Power Drilled (Roommates, #8)(6)

“What else did the class think? Since you’re speaking for them.”

Warmth spread through me as I recalled all the inappropriate thoughts I’d had while sketching him. But I couldn’t tell him that. “We were just glad you weren’t a bowl of fruit.”

He chuckled. “I get that a lot.”

“No, I mean… we were glad to have a live model.”

“I knew what you meant.”

Oh. Now I felt foolish. Good thing it was dark, and he couldn’t see my flushed cheeks. “How do you know Carl?”

“We went to high school together.”

“Ah.” It wasn’t one of my better responses. I tried again. “And he thought you were the high school friend most likely to agree to take off your clothes?”

“Something like that.”

It felt like there might be more to it than that. “Did you owe him a favor or something?”

“No.”

“Then why’d he ask you?”

“I think he thought I’d be… easy to see.”

There was some kind of note in his voice that I couldn’t identify, but if he meant he was easy on the eyes, I had to agree with that. But I couldn’t say that.

“Easy to see? As opposed to his invisible friends?”

Jackson chuckled. “He knew that all parts of me would be easy to see. In other words, he thought his class would have more to sketch than if he’d invited a smaller man.”

I frowned at that. Jackson was taller than me, but he wasn’t a giant of a man. And then I realized what he meant. There was one part of him that had definitely seemed larger than average in my limited experience. “Oh.”

His laugh filled the car. “I can feel the heat from your blushing from here.”

I leaned back in my seat, not sure if he was serious or not, but he probably was. My cheeks felt like they were on fire… but there was something I wanted to know. Well, there were several things I was curious about, but I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to ask. “Um… how did Carl know… I mean, do guys just know that about each other?”

“We were on the soccer team together,” Jackson said, as if that explained everything.

“But how—”

“The locker room. After practice,” he elaborated.

“Oh.” I guess that made sense. Carl wasn’t gay, as far as I knew, so he probably hadn’t been overtly checking out his friend, but maybe that was the kind of thing you couldn’t help noticing. My experience with men’s locker rooms was even less than my experience with naked men.

“Is it the same way in women’s locker rooms?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“I don’t really know. I didn’t play any sports in school.”

“Too bad,” he said. “But maybe now’s your chance.”

“To play a sport?” I frowned.

“To take one for the team.”

Now I was really confused. “What do you mean?”

He twisted even further in his seat so that he was facing me. “Do you think your classmates would like it if I came back some night?”

“Yes.” I said it so fast that I felt the need to backpedal. “I mean, a bowl of fruit has its merits, too…”

He laughed. “It was only supposed to be a one-time thing, but I might be able to rearrange my schedule.”

“You can?” My pulse raced at the thought of seeing him again. Maybe next time, I could do a better job of recreating his amazing muscles… but I had to admit that wasn’t the only reason I wanted him to come back to class.

“I can, but it all depends on you.”

“On me? Why?” My pulse spiked again, and for a moment, I thought he was going to suggest something thoroughly indecent. Which should have filled me with disgust, but somehow didn’t. But what he actually said took me by surprise.

“I’ll come back if you show me your sketch.”

Too late, I realized that I’d walked right into that one. “No deal.”

He sounded amused, not put out. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Quite sure.

“Why? I’m the one who was naked, so you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

That was easy for him to say. He hadn’t been the one practically drooling in the art room. “I just can’t.”

“Wouldn’t your classmates be happy to see me again?”

Oh yeah, they definitely would. I tried to think what Susan would say if she knew I was passing up this opportunity.

“Come on, just let me get a quick look.” His tone was pleading and playful. “You’ve seen all of me. The least you can do is show me your drawing.”

“I didn’t make an agreement with Carl over beers.”

“Touché. But I’d really like to see it.”

He was wearing me down—him and Susan, whom I could practically hear in my head. “You promise you won’t laugh?”

“Promise I won’t laugh at a picture of me? I’m pretty sure I won’t. Got a few ex-girlfriends who might, though.”

I didn’t believe that for a second. “All right.”

“Awesome.” Jackson sounded victorious.