new, leafy and green when I leave the house. Even if I don't, Robin supplies me with his castoffs more often than not. At this point, I'm pretty sure he's killing them on purpose so he can cheer me up with a new addition every week.
"So?" he asks, the excitement clear in his voice as we settle on the sofa in the living room. "How did the shoot go? You didn't say anything earlier."
"I wanted to tell you in person." I pick up the TV remote and click on play and one of our favorite shows starts to play out on the screen. We both know it by heart now. Half of the time we spend together is just quoting the freaking show to one another. "It went well, I think."
Robin reaches for the remote and pauses the show. He's always afraid he'll miss something if we talk while we watch it, even though we've both seen every episode a thousand times. "Well, tell me everything. I got a text from Katya. She said the photographer couldn't stop gushing about you."
I laugh out loud. Katya, one of my brother's ex-girlfriends, who he stayed in touch with – much to Elise's dismay – was the hairstylist on set. She's the one who told Robin that Raphael was looking for unique models. And then Robin wouldn't leave me alone for weeks, begging me to go through with it. He thought it would be good for me, and as hesitant as I was about the whole thing, it ended up working out.
"Well, first of all," I start, narrowing my eyes at him. "You didn't tell me it was a nude shoot."
He laughs, nervously scratching the back of his dark-haired head. "I figured it would be. But you're cool with that, right?"
Robin knows I'm nowhere near cool with that. Not that nudity is the problem. No, it's being exposed – all my scars plainly visible for the viewer. But I find myself nodding now, as if it isn't a problem at all.
"It was actually kind of fun," I admit. "And really exhausting. I must've been there for five hours or even more. Two to do the makeup and hair, and then another three of shooting."
"So, what's Santino like?"
"He's..." I struggle to find the right words. "Intense. Interesting." Freaking hot as sin, I want to add, but I force myself not to. Although Robin knows me so well, I'm pretty sure he can tell what I was going to say next. "I'm glad I went, anyway. Thanks for making me go."
"You're welcome," Robin beams before waggling his brows at me. "Heard the guy asked you out."
I groan. "Katya really can't keep her mouth shut, can she?"
"Nope." My brother's grinning from ear to ear. "So, how'd you turn down this one?"
Despite the scar, I've been asked out a fair few times in the past few years since I moved out to LA. But I almost always turn down people who ask me. After a few disastrous experiences – including one where my date turned out to be a plastic surgeon and spent half of dinner explaining how he could fix my scar – I've pretty much sworn off dating altogether.
"I didn't," I finally say. "We're going out tomorrow."
"What?" Robin's mouth gapes open. "You agreed to go out with him?"
"Why not?" I shrug weakly. "I haven't been on a date in almost two years. Figured I might as well try again before I fully commit to being a green-fingered spinster."
"Cute." Robin stares me down. "So what are you doing on your date?"
"Dinner," I blurt out, my cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as I feel his penetrating smile on me.
"Dinner," he repeats. "Wow. You must really like this guy."
Robin knows as well as I do, I never do dinner dates, because I hate eating in front of other people. It's always awkward, and I don't want to deal with their prying questions about why I'm just picking at the food on my plate and not actually eating anything.
"What are you wearing?" my brother asks next and I shrug.
"I don't know. The usual?"
"Nuh uh, no way." I groan as I look into his determined eyes. "Why don't you borrow something from Elise? I'm sure she'd be happy to lend you something, and you're the same size, too."
We're only the same size because his tiny girlfriend starves herself on a daily basis to fit into a size zero. But then again, am I not doing the same thing?