I’m a total bad a-word.
“What do you think?” Raina asks me, and I swivel on my stool, my eyes wide.
“Who, me?” I look around to make sure she’s not talking to an invisible man on my head, and she lets out a tinkle of laughter.
“We were thinking today is nude day.” She elbows Tristan. “Think our model will come in a robe or just in all his naked glory?”
My stomach plummets to my toes. “Uhm,” I croak, “I-I thought we had to sign a consent form for nude models.”
Her bushy brows pull in. “We did. It was a requirement for the class.”
How do I not remember that? Oh yeah… My parents did it.
Wait, Mom and Dad are okay with me painting a penis?
Sweat builds in my palms, and I swipe them on my apron, suddenly not okay staring at the classroom door. He wouldn’t walk in without a robe, right? I mean, it’s a public hallway. The thing would flap around and stuff, yeah?
I do not know how penises work.
I barely know what one looks like.
Why would anyone want to paint one? From what I’ve seen, they aren’t exactly pretty.
Oh gosh, what if he has a tattoo down there? Or a piercing? Or he had like a botched circumcision? Or what if it’s super, super long?
My breathing has gotten embarrassingly loud, enough to scare Raina and Tristan off from continuing their conversation with me.
I can’t paint a penis. I can’t see his butt. And if he’s got that V muscle thing that leads to it… Oh gosh, there’s probably hair.
My brush teeters out of my shaking hands and clatters to the floor. As I bend to pick it up, the classroom door swings open.
Bare feet. Bare ankles. Bare calves. Tattoos on those calves.
I shoot back to my stool, positioning myself so my canvas covers him from neck down.
“Ah, Zach,” Miss Barley says, squeezing in between Tristan’s and Raina’s easels. She pulls up a cushioned chair. “In case you need a break,” she says, gesturing to the seat. “We have a forty minute session, but I don’t expect you to stand for it all.”
My eyes burn a hole through my canvas, the jawline, long neck, and muscled chest I’ve started to paint seeming too large to paint below the belt. Maybe I won’t even need to look…
“Class, I understand this is an unexpected surprise, but art is about taking risks, making things work, and putting a twist on the traditional.” She gives me a pointed look, and I jerk back at the twinkle in her eye. I’d probably appreciate the subtle nod to my way of painting if my palms weren’t sweating a puddle on my apron.
“I want you to take what you’ve already painted and try to apply what our model will be showing today.”
So… a penis. I have to paint a penis.
“Miss Barley?” Ben asks from his spot on the other side of the room. Since I’m concentrating so hard on not looking at Zach, I see Tristan smile from behind his canvas. “I’ve painted him in pants already.”
“Then this will be a challenge.” She grins and fixes her hair, shoving a paintbrush up into her bun. “I’m excited to see what you come up with.”
Nope, nope… I can’t do it. Miss Barley nods to Zach, and he locks his eyes on mine, offering a small smile as he wriggles around. I imagine he’s disrobing, but my canvas is nice and huge and covering everything.
I’m in a room with a naked man. There is no way I’ll be able to concentrate on how I’m going to ask him out if he’s naked.
Naked.
Naked.
Naked.
My heart beats wildly in my chest, and my eyes start to do that stupid watering thing, and my fingers won’t stop shaking like an 8.2 magnitude earthquake. His icy blues twinkle at me in amusement, but it ain’t amusing whatsoever. I duck behind my canvas, but his painted eyes stare at me there, too.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I whisper at painting Zach. I don’t give a flying fart that Raina gives me the side-eye. It’s too soon to see him naked, even in the name of art. I’ve managed to avoid painting nude models in my twenty years, and I need to last a little longer. It feels too intimate of a thing when I haven’t had sex yet, haven’t even seen a penis in the flesh, or touched one… And I really, really, really, really want to date this guy, and all I’ll see