Chapter 3
Miles
I ’m on edge as I head down the hall, back to Figure Drawing, knowing damn well I’m gonna see Dax Armstrong again.
That first day, after walking out of the class, I went straight to the library to reschedule it.
Figured there had to be another class with open spots.
As luck would have it, the only other Figure Drawing class was full, so I went through the courses I needed for my major, searching for a spot in any available class that could fulfill my course requirement, but there weren’t any openings in those either.
Fuck. Me.
I can just imagine what Dad would say if I told him about my predicament: “Sounds like a good time to reconsider that major.”
He wasn’t thrilled at the idea of me getting a BA in art.
He’d prefer something sensible—accounting, business, law.
Something secure and stable since, as a CFO, it’s really the only life he’s known.
He figured art was something I’d grow out of, or that would become a hobby, but here we are, and if his disapproval isn’t gonna change my mind, it’s sure as hell not gonna be some pretty brunet who bugs the crap out of me.
It’s as if the universe conspired to force me to return and face Dax.
Weird as it is, if I hadn’t been following him that night, who knows what could have happened to him, so really, he should be thanking me for being a creep.
I’m a few minutes early to the studio since I should probably talk to Professor Reger about why I walked out of class last time.
Unfortunately, Dax is early too, wearing a robe, sitting on a chair on the platform our stations surround, fiddling with his phone.
I do my best to ignore him, but in my periphery, I catch the moment when he notices me.
I clench my jaw as I approach Professor Reger’s desk.
“Hi again,” she says, pushing to her feet.
“Sorry, I just wanted to explain about last class.”
She tilts her head, a smile playing across her lips. “Don’t you worry, sweetie.”
“Huh?”
She chuckles. “There’s always one who gets uncomfortable. And really, I thought you might’ve withdrawn. Students do it all the time, but I’m so proud of you for pushing yourself to overcome your discomfort. It says a lot about your character.”
“Wait. I…” I’m so thrown. Does she really think I can’t handle seeing a naked dude? Wow. Not what I was expecting, but as she said, it must not be that unusual for a class like this.
“It’s fine,” she adds. “Don’t worry, you’ll catch up. And if there’s anything you want to talk about after class, I want you to know this is always a safe space.”
Safe space? What is she suggesting I’d want to talk about?
I guess because I walked out when a guy was stripping, she maybe thinks I’m questioning my sexuality or something, but come on, I’ve been hooking up with guys and girls since I was a junior in high school.
Don’t really need help in that department.
But I’m also not an idiot, and if she’s gonna give me the perfect out, I need to be grateful and shut the hell up.
“Thank you,” I say through my teeth, just as a sound catches my attention—Dax snickering to himself. I don’t know that my face could get much hotter.
“What was your name again?” Professor Reger asks.
“Miles Tanner.”
“You’ll do great. And it’s totally normal to be embarrassed about this. The longer you’re in here, the less it will affect you.”
Embarrassed? Fuck, she thinks my face is red because I’m blushing over this dumbass crap. I can’t win.
I swallow the impulse to say, You are so fucking wrong, it’s ridiculous , and wisely say, “Thank you again. I appreciate your understanding.”
I head to my workspace and start setting up, getting out my supplies as I recover from the humiliation of having a teacher thinking I’m such a prude, I can’t handle a little nudity.
Dax is still watching me, and I don’t know that I really have a right to judge, considering I was doing the same with him last spring at that frat party.
That wasn’t long after the fire at Sigma Alpha, which I took the fall for.
Not that I can blame anyone else for that.
I did turn myself in to the cops. But there were a lot of eyes on me, and I knew what they were thinking about the asshole whose bullshit prank set part of the house on fire, resulting in Alpha Theta Mu’s president, Sigma Alpha’s president’s boyfriend, winding up in the emergency room.
Then there was Dax, bright-eyed, laughing, fully enjoying the night with his buddies. I don’t believe in shit like auras, but if there was such a thing, he was radiant. Although, that might’ve just been something I noticed because of all the THC pumping through my veins.
I shake those thoughts, finally turning to Dax, who’s sitting all relaxed on the platform, his bright eyes on me as he offers a subtle wave, his expression saying, Dude, we’re gonna be here for a few months, so sooner or later, you’re gonna have to get used to it.
I’ve gotten good at ignoring him, though, so I continue setting up before class starts and Dax strips out of his robe.
As much as I was pissed that the professor thought I was a prude, I find myself struggling to look.
Between parties, TaskFrat Challenges, and builds, I’ve seen plenty of his body.
I know how hot he is, and I’ve definitely peeked more than a few times, but it’s different this time because now he knows I’m looking.
I force myself to get it over with, and my gaze travels up and down him, stirring something in me…and also, something on me. I glance at the workspaces on either side of me, adjusting how I’m sitting so neither gets an eyeful. But as my gaze returns to him, I notice I’m salivating, my face warm.
I scratch at my arm uneasily, hoping he won’t look this way again while he’s posing.
Professor Reger directs him through a few quick poses to get us warmed up—per the syllabus, we’ll do some of these, then a longer pose, gradually working up to one that will last weeks of class.
The professor settles on one with his legs shoulder-width apart, hands resting on the back of his head, totally exposed, that tight ass facing me.
The guy doesn’t seem to have an ounce of insecurity about any inch of his body, and I can’t blame him.
He’s slender—though someone should tell his abs, which are perfectly defined and decorated with a sexy-ass happy trail, dark as the hair on his head.
For being fun and playful usually, he’s taking this modeling gig seriously, his expression stoic, accentuating his cheekbones and thick, full, kissable lips. Regardless of how kissable he may look, without his attention on me, it’s easier to relax and get to work.
Professor Reger makes some comments, noting the curvature of his spine and the positioning of his head. But I’m not really listening. Too busy.
My work has always been the only thing that can quiet my mind when things get chaotic, and I’m relieved to find it’s the same now, even under the circumstances.
I don’t really feel like there’s a significant difference between my more abstract work, where I’m articulating moods and feelings, and this, where I’m supposed to be imitating reality.
In both, there are rules and boundaries, and in both, there’s freedom to be found in bringing the elements to life.
I’m relieved at how easy it is to immerse myself in the experience, assuring me I’ll be able to deal with a few months of this, after all.
I’m taking great care with the lines of his back, the subtle grooves between the muscles, especially those I’ve never noticed before, when I hear Professor Reger say, “And that’s all the time we have for today.”
I’m caught off guard by how quickly that went by, and Dax shifts out of his stoic state and flashes a look my way. He puts on his robe and chats with Professor Reger while I pack up hurriedly, but not fast enough because soon I notice Dax approaching, then looming over me.
“Wanna chat?” he asks in that cool, breezy way he has.
“About?” I don’t make eye contact, but he’s unusually quiet, so I finally break and look to see him glaring at me.
“Oh, I don’t know, Miles. I thought we could have a deep philosophical discussion about Impressionism. What do you think?”
“I’m more into modern art,” I quip, and he smirks.
“At least you have more of a sense of humor now than you did over the summer.”
“And here I thought you’d figured out that the best thing to do was to stay away from me.” I finish stuffing my things away and push to my feet.
“I honestly don’t know how you think I’ve figured anything out about you. First you’re picking a fight with me.”
“You know you were tripping me up to get me back for the fire.” I don’t believe that for a second, but I need to get away from him.
“That’s not what was happening. I was being friendly with you.”
“Your mistake.”
“Well, if it was such a mistake, why were you escorting me home, seeming genuinely worried about me?”
I reflect on that night at the party. He seemed to be drinking a lot, which was none of my fucking business, but he was holding it fine.
At least, it looked like it. But since I wasn’t sure that would last, I tailed him as he headed back to Alpha Theta Mu.
In my mind, I would just follow him a bit to make sure he was all right, but the way he was walking, or maybe because of how high I was, it was hard to tell if he was stumbling or if that was just in my head.
We were about a block away from the party when I noticed I was still following him and how fucking weird that was.
Why did I even give a shit if he made it home okay?
I didn’t even know the guy. Then he took a fall, and I sprinted into action.
Now it’s biting me in the ass.
Dax’s brow creases. “I can’t make sense of you. You ignored me most of the summer. Then you’re storming out of class one minute, and now, here you are.”
“Here I am.” I’m not giving him more than that.
“If we’re gonna be in the same room for the next few months, don’t you think we could squash whatever this is?”
“Maybe I just don’t like you, Dax.”
He winces. “Everyone likes me.”
He’s not wrong, and it’s frustrating that he doesn’t even get it—he’s not the asshole; I am. That’s why he shouldn’t be messing with me.
He stares me down, studying my face, and a rush of adrenaline pumps through me. One thing everyone knows about Dax is how good he is at reading people, and I fear he’ll somehow catch on to more than he should.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I need to get the hell out of there, so I walk away. As I hurry out the studio door, I glance back and see him standing there, mouth hanging open, surely just as confused as when he first approached me.
And if it’ll get him to leave me alone, that’s probably for the best.