“It’s an om— Oh forget it. Thanks.”
She sullenly kicked the tripod legs back together and leaned the camera back in the cramped corner that acted as her staging area/studio/office. Ever since Auger had claimed the sofa for his own, her personal real estate had dwindled dramatically.
“You know, you’re wasting your time with food,” Bryce mumbled thoughtfully, his cheeks bulging. He gestured toward the sofa with the butt end of his fork. “You should be taking pictures of that.”
Callie automatically looked where he was pointing, even as she commanded herself not to. Auger was still somehow asleep, a forearm over his eyes, the old gingham quilt diagonal across his broad chest. Like this, he seemed absolutely harmless.
“No way,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“You wouldn’t even have to wake him,” Bryce insisted. “Ladies go crazy for this he-man shit. Just a few pictures, some candid snaps…”
“No, Bryce.”
“Uh-huh!”
Bryce left the barstool and sneak-walked across the room to the sofa like a cartoon character. Callie’s eyes widened in horror. He hovered a hand just over the hem of the quilt. Both his elbows were cocked and he half bent at the waist, all nervous energy.
Is he high? she wondered, aghast.
“Like this stuff here?” he stage whispered, his hand gesturing in quick circles over Auger’s ribcage and the thick ripples of his abs, visible even while asleep. “All this fur is like crazy sexy, Cal. This is the money shot right here.”
“Bryce, leave him alone!” she hissed, her eyes wide.
Could he seriously be high? This early in the morning?
“And then there’s alla this, down here,” he said, gesturing lower down. He glanced at the quilt and paused, his eyebrows knitting together. He drew his hands back from the suspicious mound beneath the blanket and frowned. “Hey is that his… No way. Callie, come check this out...”
“You’re disgusting, Bryce.”
“No, seriously, look at this,” he hissed, now pointing directly at the obvious protrusion under the blanket, his face contorted into over-acted shock. “It’s like a baby’s arm! Bring your camera!”
“Leave him alone!”
“Whaaaat?” he whispered loudly, arms out in a gesture of innocence. “I can’t help it! When I try to think of it… My own sister… Did you really used to… With all of that??”
Callie turned away and reached weakly for the desk, blushing fiercely. She half-though Bryce was going to rip the quilt off him to get a look at it up close. That’s the sort of thing he would do when he was like this: all nerves and elbows and a juvenile pitch for attention of any kind. He’d strip a friend, or wake a sleeping person, or do just about anything for a laugh. Or even for a shocked grimace, if a laugh wasn’t available.
“You wanna see my dick, Bryce?” Auger’s voice suddenly cut through the room like a hatchet.
Callie shot bolt upright, grateful she had turned away and he couldn’t see the look on her face, or the bright red burn in her cheeks. She stifled a gasp and resisted the urge to turn around, staring instead at the framed print of a red velvet cupcake she had shot months ago. It looked awesome. Probably the best photo she had ever taken. Possibly the last decent one, ever, she figured. Probably a fluke.
Aw, who am I kidding, she thought for the thousandth time. A photographer? Me? Yeah, right.
“Naw, dude, I don’t want to see your dick,” Bryce continued, the discomfort plain in his voice. “I was just giving Callie some career advice. Uh… Did I wake you?”
The couch springs creaked as Auger’s weight shifted. Callie moved the PC mouse around on the desk and the monitor sprung startlingly to life.
“Yeah, you woke me,” he grumbled, his voice muffled as he rubbed the heels of his hands hard over his face. Still keeping her back carefully turned, Callie opened and closed an Internet browser, trying to act casual.
“Well great! Now that you’re up—”
“You woke me,” Auger growled again.
“Yeah,” Bryce stumbled momentarily, almost managing to shut up. The floorboards squeaked quietly as he started to fidget again. “OK, yeah, you’re right. Sorry about that, but now that you’re up, I have got a great deal for you…”
“No,” Auger replied instantly, his voice low and definitive.
Callie walked into the kitchen, only seeing them out of the corner of her eye. Bryce bounced from foot to foot, bent slightly at the waist like he might dive at Auger any second. Auger sat with his forearms on his knees, his fingers plunged into his shoulder-length dark blonde hair. The quilt was arranged modestly over his hips, and for just a second Callie felt a twinge of disappointment as she glanced at it.