Page 97 of Sand in My Boots

Her condo is quaint, in a quiet development of only a few units. She has two bedrooms, one used as an office, and a larger one where she sleeps and stores her clothes, complete with a walk-in closet to herself, brimming with apparel. It’s a stark contrast to the house she grew up in because of the size, though every appliance is top-of-the-line, and granite countertops line the counters in the galley kitchen. She’s made it a home but was quick to add it’s temporary. I didn’t want to read anything into it. She’s lived here for two years, and while it’s “home,” it’s not forever.

Some days I feel the same way about my townhouse. I like it well enough, but I don’t want to live there forever. At least not by myself. And even then, we’ll eventually outgrow it.

Whoever the “we” happens to be.

I can’t get ahead of myself. I’m confident in my heart that Juli and I aren’t a fling. What I can’t say with certainty is whether we’re forever material. Right now, I’m happy knowing it’s more than casual. I’m committed to her, for as long as she’ll have me. Maybe it’s odd to be at the “boyfriend/girlfriend” stage at our ages, but I’m here as long as she wants me. However it looks when we have to say goodbye in five days. I’m glad it’s not as friends. We’ve yet to talk about what will happen, but I’m guessing we’ll do our own version of long distance.

I’m avoiding thoughts of when I have to leave and enjoying all the moments until then. Like now, I’m going to rile her up about the amount of towels for one person. They are neatly organized in four drawers—drawers, not a linen closet. She’s yet to tell me about the rotation, but I plan to take notes while I’m here.

“So, I kinda thought you were kidding about the whole ‘thirty’ towels thing. But I see you’re not.”

“I’m very serious about my towel obsession. You’ll have to get used to it.”

The funny thing is, I already am. Not as obsessive as needing a new one every time, but I’m all over making sure she has a clean one for herself.

“I can do that. Mind if I poke a little fun every now and again?”

“I’d be afraid something was wrong if you didn’t.”

We’re lying on her bed after the tour of her condo, both of us a little tired from the travel. Or maybe it’s the late night and early morning catching up with us. Whatever it is, rest was required.

“What’s on our agenda for the next few days?”

“I need like an hour or two a day for work so I can meet some deadlines, but the rest of the time is up to you. We’ll have dinner with my parents and Elisa on Friday. I’ll need a day to introduce you to my favorite spots around town. Anything special you want to see?”

“I’ve yet to study up on Atlanta. I’ll work on that tomorrow morning while you’re busy staring at pictures of hot men.”

“Oh! I forgot to tell you.” She sits up on her knees, excitement drifting off her. “A few months ago, I started chatting with a local photographer. She’s venturing into cover model photo shoots. She invited me to come to a session next week. After you’re gone,” she clarifies. “She said she wants my opinion on what poses will work best for covers. Isn’t that amazing?”

I want to be happy for her. I really do. But damn, jealousy’s a bitch sometimes.

“Live, half-naked men? Not only pictures on the screen?”

“Yes! I’ll have first dibs on a few different ones to offer my clients exclusive covers. It’s gonna be freaking amazing. And a tremendous boost for my business if we can sell them.”

“That’s awesome.” My comment is half-hearted, and she’s quick to call me out.

“You could pretend to be happy for me. It’s something great.”

“I am. Pretending to be happy for you.”

“You understand this could be huge for my business, right? For her, too.”

“Yeah, I get that, but . . .”

How do I explain myself without sounding like I’m insecure and don’t trust her? Because I do. My ego’s getting in the way. I want to be the only man she sees at any stage of nakedness.

“Like it or not, I’m not backing out. I’ll let you deal with it however you want, but I’m doing it.”

“I wouldn’t ever stand in the way of you doing something you want. Even if it’s with other naked men.”

“Your jealousy’s not warranted.” She drags her eyes down my body, her tongue licking her lips as her eyes undress me. “Ever thought about modeling?”

“It was my childhood dream,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes.

“I’m serious. Want me to see if the photographer has time while you’re here?”

“No.”