PosterBoyForAverage (4 page)

Flip-flop. Flip-flop
. Aubrey growled, trying to put
the image of David into the cover the way she wanted. She needed to make sure
he was prominent but not too big, so she could up the point size of the title
and author name.

She stood, cracked her spine and then touched her toes. Time
for a coffee. Time for two coffees.

“Maybe a run…” Her eyes darted to the bed where she saw her
sheets, mussed and tossed. She’d had dream after dream about that kiss.

The first had been the kiss. Then she’d woken up. The second
had been the kiss progressing to touching. Then she’d woken up. The third was
the kiss progressing to toe-curling sex. She’d finally woken for the morning
with a flutter in her chest and a dry mouth.

Run. Definitely
.

Bruce caught on and tried his best to trip and kill her
while she changed into running clothes. “I’m not taking you,” she told him.

He paused as if he understood.

“You can’t keep up after the first block. You’re too short.
I’ll come back and walk you.”

He dropped to his side like she’d shot him.

Aubrey snorted. “Well, you’ll live, big guy. I promise. But
I will come back and walk you. That’s also a promise.”

She pulled on her shoes, laced them tight and eyed the
computer screen. Flipped the image a hair and then, “Voila! That’s perfect.
Just needed a break from it is all.”

The sight of her bed brought a fresh rush of heat to her
face. She hurriedly pulled the blankets up to cover the sheets and sighed.
“Right. Run. Shake it off, Singleton. Shake it off.”

So she ran.

It was on Grove Street she saw a runner headed her way.
Aubrey didn’t really consider herself a runner. She was more of a person who
kept trying on running to see if it fit. Some days it fit her like a glove.
Some days she felt like an elephant crashing to earth with every clumsy stride
she made.

As the other runner approached, she straightened her form.
She often ran better when other people ran by. Just because she didn’t want to
look like a slouching loser. Aubrey snorted at herself. “You’re such a faker.”

She straightened her back, shortened her stride a bit, put
her head up. Her ponytail was tucked through the back of her baseball cap and
she could feel it swishing against her back with every stride. She considered,
again, cutting it all off. Instead of focusing on that, she focused on a spot in
the middle distance and said softly to herself, “Down.”

It was a mantra she’d read about in a running magazine and
she’d be damned if it didn’t work to keep her focused and extend her running
time before she had to take an occasional walk break.

“Aubrey!”

The voice pulled her out of her reverie. The other runner.
But she squinted against the sun and realized it wasn’t just another runner. It
was Mike.

He looked sweaty and fit and just bouncing along like his
feet were made of fucking rubber instead of actual human flesh and bone.

“Hey! Mike!” She was actually happy to see him. Parts of her
were very happy. It was actually distracting, the steady thrumming pulse
between her pumping legs. A snippet of her dream floated through her head.
Him—he of the nice thick forearms—holding her arms over her head, moving over
her. Thrusting into her.

She gasped.

“You okay?” He crossed the street easily. One of those
runners who looked like they defied gravity.

“I…I’m fine. I just pulled something.”

My groin…or my brain.

“Let’s finish up together.”

“I just started,” Aubrey confessed.

“Then I’ll come with you. If that’s okay.”

“Didn’t you just run?” Just the running in place was getting
to her. She felt her heart give that little fish-flop thing it did sometimes.
She had decided to do this to get away from thoughts of Mike. Now he was going
to come with her?

She stifled a groan.

“I did. But I could go for a bit longer.”

This time she did groan.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Aubrey moved forward as tan, glistening Mike kept pace with
her. His legs were as nice as his arms. “I’m fine. Just out of shape.”

He grinned, staring straight ahead. Aubrey was glad he
wasn’t looking at her because the grin did strange things to her. Made the
sensation in her pussy seem to hum through her entire body. Despite the warm
autumn sun, her nipples peaked hard inside her sports bra.

In her head the mantra
don’t look at my nipples, don’t
look at my nipples, don’t look
…was on a constant loop.

“You look pretty in shape to me, Aubrey.”

“Ugh. You won’t say that in another block or so.”

“No?” He seemed to be gaining energy instead of losing it
and Aubrey hated him just a little for it.

But then she thought of the stamina he must have and had to
cut off another surprised squeak. She could feel it wanting to bust free of
her.

“Nope. When I’m hanging off you and begging you to kill me,
you’ll see me for what I really am. A part-time wannabe runner at best.”

He laughed and she pointed right to Ruby Avenue. “Up there,”
she gasped.

It was a hill and why she’d chosen it she had no idea. But
it started to seem like a good idea when he took the lead, running just ahead
of her. His legs were as nice as his arms, and his ass, in those worn gray
athletic shorts, was pretty much biteable. She did her best not to picture it
naked and walking across her bedroom toward the bathroom and failed. It would
probably be slightly sweaty in their postcoital glow. Possibly even sporting
her teeth prints.

That made her giggle and the giggle made him pause.

He glanced over his shoulder, cocked an eyebrow. “What’s
going on in that head of yours?” he asked, only slowing a bit.

“Nothing. Trust me.” He kept staring. She added, “You don’t
want to know.”

“Oh but I do. Is it dirty?”

“Yep.” His grin grew and she realized she’d just blurted out
the truth. “I mean…oh fuck,” she sighed.

“Will you tell me?” He put some more speed in his stride and
she had to do the same to keep up.

“Maybe one day.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her again. “Is it about me?”

Again Aubrey found herself confessing. Kind of. “Maybe.”

“Oh I think it is,” he said as she somehow managed to pull
up alongside him. The hill was behind them now and Aubrey knew she’d feel a
momentary—fleeting—amount of relief. Her speed would pick up. At least until
she realized that she was running.

That always slowed her down.

“And what makes you think that?” She tried to look fetching
but figured she probably just looked apoplectic.

“I know a leering look of lust when I see one.”

She snorted and nearly choked from the effort of running.
“Oh my God! Full of yourself much?”

They rounded Deerhorn Avenue and Aubrey turned left toward
home. She could feel her pulse pounding heavily in her temples. She should
never have thought to mix running and attraction. Not her smartest move.

“Not really. I haven’t had sex in eight months. I think a
man full of himself would probably be having a lot more.”

She almost tripped, swayed on her feet and reached out
blindly for support. He clasped her hand and steadied her.

“Did I surprise you?”

“Yeah. A bit. But…why would you tell me that?” she asked.
“Most men I know would die first before copping to that.”

“Why’s that? It just means I made a choice.”

They were standing in the street, staring at each other.
Aubrey wasn’t entirely sure when that had happened. She also became extremely
aware that his hand was still on her elbow.

“Well, you’re not alone. I made a choice too. And ya
know…why not tell a person I just met, right?”

“I told you because I’m flirting with you,” Mike said.

That shut her up. Few things did. Bradlee would be
overjoyed.

“Is that wise?”

“Flirting with you or copping to it? Or both?”

“I just mean…we live next door to each other. What if it
were to be a colossal disaster?”

“That would only happen if you were flirting with me too,
Aubrey. Were you?” The pressure of his hand on her elbow increased just enough
to quicken her heart.

“No! I mean, not really…” He stared at her with those pale-blue
eyes. “Okay, maybe some. Just a bit.”

Hi gaze grew more heated and she felt it in her belly.
Remembered the dream of him making her come. The image made her blush—she could
feel it.

He touched her cheek. “I’m glad. Even if it was just a bit.”

She swallowed hard. “Maybe a little more than just a bit.”

He leaned in and her body seemed to tingle with electricity.
“Even better.”

She was hot and sweaty and probably gross to look at, and
yet all she wanted in the world was for him to kiss her. It was enough to make
her feel a little lightheaded.

“I’d kiss you,” he said, plucking the thought from her mind.
“But you look terrified.”

“I do?”

“You do. Is it because we’re neighbors and we get along and
you want to take naked pictures of me?”

She stood straight, giving an offended little cry. “Not
naked!”

“Just trying to see if you’re paying attention.”

“Just…enticing pictures. You know exactly what I mean.”

He grinned. His hand cupped the back of her head, pulling
her inexorably forward. He seemed to have his own gravitational pull. She
wondered if she could use that as an excuse to herself when she messed
everything up by taking him to bed.

Mike’s mouth pressed to hers and lightning skittered under
her skin. Her nipples spiked so hard she gasped a little. His tongue stroked
over hers and her mind supplied the ever-popular image of him dragging it along
her nether lips. Finding her clit with it. Licking her there. She moaned and he
made a rough noise down in his throat. The kiss deepened and he held her tight
with that hand to the back of her head. Mike put his other hand against her
throat and seemed to trap her between his two palms. He sucked her tongue for
an instant and she mimicked him.

Then the world brightened and seemed to sway because he
pulled back and looked at her. “You’re right,” he said, stepping back.

“I…what?”

“Probably a bad idea.”

“I…of course. Yes.” Aubrey couldn’t remember ever feeling
more confused.

“We’d never be a good match,” he said, nodding brusquely.
Then he smacked her on the ass and made her hiss. “Race you home,” he said and
took off.

Fuck. Fuckety, fuck, fuck!
What the hell had
that
been?

She let the hot water beat down over her head. If only it
could wash her recurring memories away with the sweat. But it was impossible to
block the memory of his lips touching hers from her mind. Even more impossible
to foil the tangible memory of him cupping the back of her head and even worse,
him covering her throat with the other hand.

“Damn, damn, damn!” Aubrey growled. Now she had to get
clean, change her clothes and have him over to model for her.
Model!

Shirtless!

The water grew even hotter, which meant that in a minute or
two it would turn ice-cold. Aubrey gave herself a final pep talk. She could do
this. This was business. No need to panic. She took pictures of studly guys all
the time.

Problem was, none of those summer studly guys had kissed
her. Barring one peck on the cheek, and even a nun could handle a peck on the
cheek!

She toweled off and then wrapped her hair in the soft blue
towel. Aubrey slathered moisturizer on and rummaged in the laundry basket for
fresh jeans. Lucky day, lucky day! Her favorites were clean. Old Levi’s that
were so soft it was like walking around in pajama bottoms. They were her armor
on difficult days with difficult shoots or difficult people. They’d be perfect.

A glance at the clock told her she had twenty minutes before
Mike stopped by so they could figure out the pictures she wanted to take. She
figured maybe him in the garden. He looked like a nature guy. Maybe down in her
basement studio that was still woefully under construction. Will had helped her
get started on it but then they’d fizzled out and she’d been content to work in
her room on the desk upstairs.

“Because you didn’t want to deal with it and you’re lazy,”
she muttered, stepping into the jeans
sans
panties. For no other reason
than she didn’t feel like digging in the basket for them. “Talk about lazy,”
she snorted.

Aubrey found a purple tie-dyed, long-sleeved thermal top and
a bra. At least she could put on a bra, right? Maybe she should just greet him
at the door nude. That would work wonders.

“Jesus. You’re like a teenager,” she scolded herself. Only
Bruce hopped up from his bed because he thought she was addressing him. “Now
that he’s declared he doesn’t want you, you’re hell-bent to get him to want
you.”

The phone rang and she saw her sister’s number. Bradlee was
the last person she wanted to talk to. Simply because her sister knew her like
no one else. One listen to her voice and…

“Hello?”

“Oh God, did you do him yet?”

“Bradlee! And no. I was in the shower.”

“I just want to know.”

“No kidding.” Aubrey bent her head forward and shook it.
That would be the extent of her doing her hair. She hadn’t owned a hairdryer
since she was eighteen. A decade without one had proven just fine by her.

“He’s doable.”

“No kidding,” she groaned.

“Uh-oh, what does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Moving through the room, Aubrey kicked a pile of
dirty stuff ahead of her and scooped it into the hamper before walking into her
closet to find shoes. Not that she truly needed shoes. He was coming to her.

“Did you almost do it?”

“No!” Aubrey roared. She snagged the mukluks Laura had given
her for Christmas. There. She’d be super-calm and nonchalant.
Nothing says
I’m-so-not-trying-to-impress-you more than slippers, worn jeans and wet hair.

“Then why are you so angry if not from coitus interruptus?”

“Because—” Aubrey cut herself off and chewed her lip. She
flopped down on the bed and pulled on the slippers. She debated makeup. Decided
not to. It would make her feel like flirting again.

“Come on. You’ll feel better if you tell me. You know you
will.”

“Don’t you have my niece to attend to?”

“Playdate.”

“Housework to do?”

“Did it early.”

“Papers to grade since you’re substituting for the math
teacher?”

“Already done!”

“So what? This is you calling because you’re…bored?”

“Why can’t it be because I care about my sister?”

Aubrey flopped back on the bed. “Brad…come on, girl.”

“Fine, I’m dying to know. He’s hot, he likes you. You’re
hot, you like him. Together you’d be super-hot and my husband is away and has
been forever and I need to vicariously have hot monkey sex through you.”

“Eww.”

Bradlee groaned. “Aubrey.”

“There will be no hot monkey sex for any of us,” Aubrey
said, trying to sound very no-big-dealish.

“Oh noooo,” Bradlee cried. Aubrey heard the poof and then
squeak of Bradlee’s favorite easy chair. She could picture her sister draping
her long legs over the arm and settling back to commiserate. “Why?”

“He kissed me today.”

The image of the kiss in her mind turned to muscle memory
and her lips and skin could still feel his touch. She shivered a little and
hated herself for it.

“Well, that’s good!”

“Then told me we’d be a bad idea.”

“He…um…what?”

“You heard me!” Aubrey said, crossing her legs, pointing her
toes at the ceiling and then reversing the motion to stretch out her muscles.
The run was still with her in the form of hurt feelings and stiff hamstrings.

“But why?”

“I don’t know! Maybe he thought I was a terrible kisser.”

“Doubtful.”

“Well, he fucking kissed me. And a hell of a kiss it was
too, sister of mine. And then he said we’d be a bad idea and then he kicked me
in the shin.”

“He kicked you?” Bradlee gasped.

Aubrey giggled. “Not really. What he did was say ‘race ya
home’, then he smacked me on the ass and proceeded to run off. We’d been on a
run together. So now I have to take pictures of him nearly naked, not care and
pay him for the pleasure.”

“Oh my God, he’s a man-whore,” her sister said.

“He is not! It was my idea before I even knew I wanted him
to kiss me. I had no idea I wanted anyone to kiss me.”

“I think the hot monkey sex is still imminent,” Bradlee
said.

“Wishful thinking,” Aubrey said. When the doorbell rang she
sighed. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear. So here he is. Gotta go. I’ll
tell you how awkward and bizarre it was later. Kiss munchkin for me.”

She hung up before Bradlee could complain. Then she was
traitorous to her own damn self by real fast swiping a bit of cheeky pink blush
on each cheek. Then she hurried to answer the door. And pretend she couldn’t
remember that kiss.
What kiss?

* * * * *

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Aubrey leaned against her doorjamb and tried not to look
beyond his eyes. Problem was his eyes were amazing and it just made him seem
even more amazing, despite her keeping her eyes trained only on his face. It
wasn’t as if he had a big set of boobs to ogle, after all. Only she knew what a
chore it was not to let her gaze sweep over his body.

Plus she was about to take a bunch of pictures of him with
his shirt off. So what was the fucking point?

“Can I come in? Or are we doing this on the porch?”

“Oh! Yeah!” She felt her face grow hot and tried not to roll
her eyes.
Good going, Aubrey.
“Sorry. I’m still recovering from the
run.”

From the kiss.

“It’s nice and sunny out. I thought maybe some pics out in
the garden.”

“Trying to roll me in poison ivy?”

She let out a little warble of laughter, mostly because that
sounded like her a little bit. But only if she didn’t like a guy. She liked
Mike. He just didn’t feel the same, it seemed.

“Nope. I just thought you’d look good outside in the sun.
And then maybe back by my big oak. And then in the basement.”

“Another possibly dangerous locale. Maybe you have a torture
chamber down there?” He winked.

“Oh I do. It’s called a laundry room and if you keep teasing
me I’ll put you to work in it.”

He reached out and touched her collarbone. Just that. With
one finger.

The heat that swept through her was astonishing. Aubrey
locked her knees and her jaw, refusing to show how it had affected her. Such a
small touch.

Mike smiled and then his face went grave again. The way it
had after the kiss they’d shared. She was dying to ask him why. What was wrong?
What was he thinking? Instead she stepped back and let him in.

“We can go through the back way.”

He reached for her again and she stalled. But then he dropped
his hand, seemingly coming to his senses.

“Lead the way.”

She did. Walking fast through the living room, into the
sunroom and opening the back slider. Bruce came tearing around the corner from
the kitchen, saw Mike, skidded, considered stopping but just kept going. He
ended his routine by flying off the end of the deck like some oversized squat
bird.

“Now you see why we call him Batman,” she laughed.

“I do. He’s a piece of work.”

Aubrey shook her head and laughed. “That’s one way to put
it.” She finally paused to consider his outfit. Faded jeans like hers, a
Henley, sneakers. Without thinking—she was used to touching the models—she
pulled up the hem of his shirt to see what kind of undergear she was dealing
with.

Aqua-blue band on what she was willing to wager were boxer
briefs.

“Um…” he watched her, barely breathing.

Aubrey snatched her hand back quickly. “Sorry. Occupational
hazard. I usually…you know. Help, arrange, pose, poke and prod the models.
Whatever you want to call it.”

“Poke away,” he said, nodding.

She made the mistake of looking him right in the eye for a
heartbeat. Big mistake. It was mesmerizing, that gaze of his. His lips curled
up into an even more amused expression and she bit her tongue to keep from
crying. She felt like the giant punch line to an unknown joke.
Why did the
roofer dislike the photographer? To get to the other side!

Aubrey poked his rock-hard belly. Just to see what he’d do.
The muscles flexed and he grabbed her wrist. There it was again, her thundering
pulse.

“Just remember if you poke me enough I might poke back.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Good to know. This way.”

He dropped her wrist and followed her down the deck. She
waved at the overgrown-but-somehow-picturesque box garden.

“We’ll start here. The light is good. And then maybe by the
tree, like I said. Then the basement. You have a body that was built with work.
So let’s show it off.”

“Working in the garden?” He chuckled.

“Well, the garden would be a good neutral backdrop for the
pics. That way I can play up the foliage around you or fade it out. Either way,
being out in nature certainly won’t harm a picture of a body like yours.”

“Poster boy for average,” he muttered again.

She flicked a finger at him, now in her element. “Not even
close, man. Now take off your shirt.”

His eyebrows shot up but he obeyed. Aubrey fought the
instinctual urge to touch what she was looking at. She was a pretty tactile photographer,
often posing subjects as if they were her own personal Ken and Barbie dolls.
Truth be told, there were more Kens, but the occasional Barbie showed up in the
mix.

“I like that look. Grab that shovel.” She nodded to one
propped by the fence. “And climb in there. Let the growth swallow you up.”

“Seriously, Aubrey, if there’s poison ivy in here I’m going
to spank you,” he muttered. Mike was facing away from her when he said it so he
didn’t see the sudden rush of color that must have come into her face, but she
felt it.

“There isn’t. I double-checked. Plus, Bradlee was letting
Laura roam around in here the other night. Trust me, if that happened, there is
no poison ivy in here.”

He squinted against the sun, gripping the shovel. When he
came back toward the garden, he nodded. “I hear you. She’s a bit of a mother
bear, your sister. Not that there’s anything wrong with that in this day and
age. Parents need to be that way.”

Aubrey raised the camera. Got him in frame. She liked the
way the sunlight seemed to peek over his shoulder and roll down his belly. But
the belly needed more highlighting. “Hold on,” she said and darted over to the
picnic table. Nearby was a potting stand that also held bug spray, sunscreen
and for Laura’s visits an economy-size bottle of bubbles.

She snagged the sunscreen and ran back, almost tripping over
a wayward pumpkin vine that had snaked out from the far corner of the yard. She
almost righted herself, stumbled again, then hit the lip of the garden bed and
sprawled forward. Almost. Instead of hitting the dirt in a tangle of jalapenos
and tomatoes, she hit a broad-chested man in a flying tackle. He stopped her
momentum easily and she got a face full of man-chest.

“Oomph,” she said.

“You okay?”

“I’m…” She was addressing a mole two inches above his left
nipple. She could smell soap on him and some very subtle cologne and sunshine.
“Yes, I’m a bit clumsy.”

“No worries. Me too.”

“You’re a roofer!”

“And afraid of heights and still a roofer.” He touched her
nose and Aubrey felt as if he’d touched some naughty part of her instead. She
tilted her head back to look at him. It was hard not to be captivated by the
way small little lines appeared at the corners of his eyes when he smiled.

“I need to rub you,” she said. Then she heard what she said
and groaned.

“Well, I’ve never had a woman be so very blunt about it
before.”

It was easy to see by the way he was pressing his lips
together that he was trying very, very hard not to laugh in her face.

“With lotion!” she said.

His jaw grew even tenser as he tried to keep his amusement
tamped down. “I don’t know if I need the extra lubrication but—”

She pulled back from him, disengaging so fast she almost
went down on her ass in a cluster of cherry tomato bushes. “On your chest! For
the shine! For the camera!” Her shock and dismay had morphed into anger and
that was when he finally did laugh.