I didn’t say all that to Delores. “I guess he didn't want his brothers to know I’m a nude model.”
“Oh, honey, around here, the gossip moves fast, he might have been trying to keep that under wraps for you. Wyatt and Cody are wild ones. They might get the wrong idea,” she reasoned.
“I guess, maybe. He seemed a little intense about it,” I grumped. Luke seemed like he was close to his brothers. After they left the other day, Delores mentioned that there were four of them and a sister too. If this bullshit with him hiding my modeling hadn’t happened, that would be another reason for me to stay away from him. Boys with big families tended to want big families, and I could never offer him that.
“If you ask me, you seem awfully moody about one interaction with Luke Morgan.”
Ugh, I hated and loved insightful people like Delores. It was so hard to keep them from nosing in your business. “We might have had a connection for a minute, but it was obviously nothing.”
“Obviously.”
I got to the meat of the issue, “I feel super weird about modeling in front of him tonight.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just feel like he thinks it’s something I should be ashamed of and that makes it totally not empowering.” I kept it to myself that Luke got a giant erection when I touched him. I just didn’t know what to do with that information for a number of reasons. First, even through his pants, I could tell that was the thickest, longest hose I had ever seen, and I was intrigued. Second, I had this visceral physical reaction to everything about Luke Morgan, and touching his hair had made me as wet as he was hard. Third, I was really mad at myself for feeling sexually drawn (pun intended) to a dude that made me feel dirty. I wasn’t sharing any of that with Delores, it was just too personal.
“Fuck him. If he doesn’t like it,” Delores said.
Oh, he liked it.
I got to Fletcher Community College with no time to spare. I didn’t want to talk to Luke at all. I stopped in the bathroom near the class, changed into my nude bra and panties, and put on my brand-new kimono, which I totally got on Amazon. Luke was already in his seat when I entered the room. I wondered if he showed up early because he was hoping to talk to me. Professor Rufus seemed downright flustered by my on-time arrival.
“Madeline, if you could arrive a few minutes early, it would do wonders for my nerves,” he said.
Still not my name. I wasn’t in the mood to please anyone, so I snapped, “I’ll think about it.” Then, I climbed up to my chair in the center of the room, took off my kimono, sat down, and waited for Rufus to drape me. I didn’t look at Luke. Didn’t acknowledge him one bit. The week earlier, I was draped before the students came into the classroom. Dropping my kimono in front of them, in front of Luke, felt like I was being defiant. I wanted to be brazen, to metaphorically say, “You don’t like it that I’m getting naked in front of a room full of people. Well, too bad, mister.”
It worked for like a minute.
But as the room quieted down, the only sound, the scratch of pencils on paper, my bravado slipped. Like the week before, I felt his eyes on me, caressing me, devouring me with that same insatiable hunger. Only this time, knowing that he didn’t respect me made it feel wrong. Instead of feeling the embodiment and beauty I expected to feel, I felt the opposite of the bodily empowerment I was seeking: shame.
Unlike the week before, all the eyes on me were totally overwhelming. Every glance felt like a judgement. I wanted to jump up and run from the room, but that wasn’t the job. I took quiet breaths through my nose and tried to quell the storm inside my chest. I would get through this. And if I couldn’t come back next week, then that would be okay. Or maybe I’d tell Luke not to come back. Maybe there was still some way to salvage this situation and get what I wanted and needed from this experience. I’d find a solution. I was strong and could get through anything. Even this. But for certain, no matter what, no matter how gross or horrible I felt, I wasn’t going to cry in this room. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reveling in my shame.
5
Luke
I got to class even earlier than usual because I wanted the opportunity to talk to Maddie and explain how I acted in the salon. I figured that she would get to the class early too because she had to be draped, but when I arrived, she wasn’t there. Anthony was already sitting at his easel. Over the course of the semester, we had developed a camaraderie. He was a good guy. He liked to talk, and I’d learned a lot about him during the first few weeks of class. He was the youngest of five siblings and lived in one house with four generations of family. Talking to Anthony reminded me of hanging out with Cody. We had things in common, but he always felt like a kid to me.
As I got settled, Anthony teasingly said, “Dude, heads up, we’re still drawing the blue girl. So maybe take this time to get your head on straight?”
With Maddie on my mind, I started chatting, “I actually ran into her this weekend.”
“Blue?”
I didn’t like him referring to her at all, let alone by a silly nickname, “Her name is Maddie, Anthony. She’s a person, not just an object for you to draw.”
He threw his hands up in gentle defense, “Whoa, down boy. I’m just a bad listener, not an ass. I missed her name. And, come on, her defining characteristic is certainly that mane of blue, is it not?”
I shrugged dreamily, “It’s pretty freakin’ gorgeous.”
“No offense, dude, but I wouldn’t have pegged you as a guy into a girl with an alternative vibe. It’s kinda like pairing a pony with a peacock.”
I smiled, “Anthony, I didn’t know you thought my colorful tail was so sexy.”
He shook his head. “I would make a pea-cock joke, but you’re a big dude. Not looking to ruffle your feathers.”
I was smiling to myself, thinking he was a quick-witted kid, when Maddie walked into the room. She showed up right on time, so I didn’t get a chance to speak to her. She wore a floral kimono and had her hair pulled up in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Even though I knew she was going to model, I was startled when she dropped her robe in front of the class. The irrational beast inside of me wanted to march up to her and cover her up like an idiot dad in a sitcom about his developing daughter. Maddie brought out a part of me that I didn’t even know existed—this growling caveman that constantly wanted to claim her as mine and throw her over my shoulder.
As usual, she was painfully beautiful. For a second, I was consumed by the sight of her. My heart raced. My dick rose. But before my libido totally took over, warning bells blared in my brain. I stopped looking and I started to really watch her. Maddie was not okay. She wouldn’t look my way. I could feel her discomfort from across the room. She was trembling with the need to cry. What the hell was going on? The Maddie I met the week before—glorious and confident—was nowhere to be found. Everything inside of me wilted. I couldn’t draw at all. I wanted to scream at all the people in the room, GET THE FUCK OUT. Or pick her up and carry her away and cradle her to my chest until she wasn’t hurting anymore. But instead, I just sat there, counting the minutes, looking at her trembling jaw, wondering how I could fix what was happening in front of me.