Model Behavior

by Sierra Spencer

Being in love with her was ruining my life. No, that wasn’t right.

He had been in a 14-year relationship and hadn’t mentioned it once. How was I supposed to interpret that?

Sometimes, I felt incapable of loving anyone. I told Avery that once, but I think she thought I was kidding. Sometimes, I was worried that my head was so messed up that I couldn’t do normal things, like even wanting to love someone.

I nodded like I understood, but truthfully, I was picturing my 6’4” hockey player of a fake boyfriend holding a fine-tipped brush and trying to paint a horse.

“So I heard you’re into painting pottery,” I told Liam, leaning against the bathroom doorframe in my Islanders sleepshirt. Liam paused in the middle of washing his face. “Which one of my teammates did you just sentence to death?”

“That’s a secret I’ll never tell. But I did notice a new one appeared today with a very cute sunshine pattern on it.” Liam dried his face with a towel, tossing it back on the counter with a hint of annoyance. “Wouldn’t know anything about that,” he muttered.

“If you’re a good girl and wait until we get to the room, I’ll eat you out in front of the window where anyone could see if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t think you want a good girl, Liam.”

“This dress was my final straw; I hope you know that.” When I got home, I’d build a shrine to the short, thin, silky fabric and buy one in every color.

“You do something to me—to my brain that makes me want you all the time. It’s all I can think about, and I think we should get it out of our systems…”

If she genuinely wanted me, I’d get on my knees for her right now, and she could consume me whole. I might even thank her for it after.