As I suspected, the briefs are a wee bit loose in the front, since Rex’s rocket is slightly bigger than Fitzy’s. But that’s not to say my man doesn’t fill out a pair of briefs fantastically. And besides, I honestly wouldn’t have cared if half the swimsuits hadn’t fit. I’m just thrilled we managed to find replacements for all six players.

Someone else isn’t as thrilled, though. Erik Laurie sits in the front row with the other members of the faculty, including Mallory Reyes, the department head. Laurie holds his program in his lap, fashionable as ever in a pinstriped suit and with his hair slicked away from his high forehead and clean-shaven face.

A face that’s harder than stone as he stares at my model. Correction, at my boyfriend, who is so fucking hot it’s almost…otherworldly. Yup. No other way to describe the oiled-up, muscled, tattooed man putting himself on display for me.

“I want to go out there and bang him on the runway,” I growl. “In front of everybody. I don’t even care.”

“I don’t blame you,” Brenna answers. “Look at that body. He’s magnificent.”

He really is. And the relief on his face when he returns backstage is almost comical.

“I feel like I’m going to ralph,” he groans.

I tamp down a laugh. “You were so good!” I assure him. “But, quick. We need to get Rex’s trunks on you because you’re walking again after Nate.”

Each designer was given our own dressing space sectioned off by a curtain, and I shove Fitz toward mine. His second swimsuit is nowhere near as skimpy as the first one. I saved the trunks for last so he could be done with the awkward briefs right off the bat.

Fitz scratches his bare chest, then remembers that Brenna and I rubbed oil over all the guys before the show started. His big paw is glistening now, and he bites his tongue seductively before saying, “I’m all oily. Can you take these off for me?”

I roll my eyes. “Oily hands in no way prevent you from taking your own briefs off.” But I still hook my fingers under his elastic waistband, because what woman would ever say no to sliding what’s essentially underwear off this hottie’s body?

I slip my hands under the briefs and squeeze his butt cheeks. His ass is so muscular, it’s insane.

Fitz’s eyes flare. “Don’t do that,” he warns. “You’ll make me hard.”

“You’re the one who wanted me to undress you.”

“You’re right. What was I thinking?” He swats my hands away and drops trou on his own.

I have one brief, glorious moment to admire his sweet penis before he has the trunks on and is tightening the drawstring. “How do I look?” he asks.

“Fuckable.” I reach around to smack his ass. “Now get back to work.”

He chuckles as I usher him out of the dressing space and get him in position. Nate walks off the runway, and Fitz steps onto it, but before he walks, he winks at me and murmurs, “I wouldn’t do this for just anybody, you know.”

“I know. And I love you for it.”

Brenna sighs as he disappears. “You two are so sappy.”

“Yup. I own that.” I grin at her. “You still seeing McCarthy?” She’s being very mum about her love life lately.

She shrugs. “Not really. He’s in Boston. I’m in Hastings. I’m not going to make that much of an effort for a Harvard boy.”

“What if it was Connelly?” I counter. “Would you make the trek to see him?”

“What’s with you and Connelly?” she demands in exasperation. “I swear, you’re obsessed with the guy. He’s an arrogant ass, Summer.”

“But he’s so hot.”

“Arrogant asses tend to be hot. That’s how they become arrogant asses.”

Fitz returns with loud cheers in his wake, and I urge Hollis to get out there. He’s closing my show, and he milks the finale for all he’s worth. Flexing his biceps as he plants his hands on his hips. Showing off the hard ridges of his abs as he does his turn. And then my part is over and the Kappa sisters are hugging me, and a few of my classmates congratulate me on a job well done.

Ben is up next, so my friends and I clear the wings for him and his models. Brenna and the Kappas go to sit in the audience while Fitz and the others change into their clothes. I thank each of them profusely for their help, and a pang of sadness tugs at my heart at Hunter’s noticeable absence. Fitz and I agreed it’s best to give Hunter space, but it still sucks knowing I’d hurt him.

When it’s just Fitz and me (and he’s wearing clothes), I grab the back of his head to tug his mouth to mine. “Thank you,” I whisper against his lips. “You literally saved my life.”

“Well, not literally,” he whispers back.

“Literally,” I argue, and his lips twitch in humor before covering mine again.

Someone gasps from behind us, and we break apart to see Nora standing several feet away. At first she’s pale with shock, but then her lips twist in a nasty grimace and she spits out, “I can’t believe you, Fitz. That’s who you were talking about? Her?”

And then she stomps off, her pink-streaked black hair whipping as she spins around.

I turn to him in confusion. “What did she mean, what you were talking about? When did you talk to her?”

“Right after we slept together for the first time,” he says gruffly. “I told her I couldn’t go out with her again because I started seeing somebody.”

“Oh. You didn’t mention that.”

“To be honest, I forgot.”

I’d forgotten about Nora too, at least in relation to Fitz. She’s no longer a threat to me, although I do feel bad that she witnessed us kissing when I know she had a crush on him.

Do you, though? inner Selena Gomez asks. I can tell she’s trying not to stick her tongue out at me.

Fine. Maybe I don’t feel that bad.

“Should I go talk to her?” he says in concern.

“Absolutely not,” I say cheerfully. “She’s a big girl, and she’ll get over it.”

The fashion show ends around nine thirty, which was when it was scheduled to start before Laurie decided that tearing apart my essay and embarrassing me in front of the class wasn’t enough. But his attempt to sabotage me tonight failed. And I don’t miss the anger in his eyes when Mallory Reyes pulls me aside at the Briar-hosted after-party and raves about my designs. She can’t get enough of the bohemian influence mingled with my modern glam style, and she says as much to Laurie as he stands there glowering at me over her head.

“Come talk to me before the semester ends so we can brainstorm your work placement for your senior year. I have some ideas.” She glances at Laurie. “I adore this girl’s style, Erik. It’s a lot of fun.”

“Very fun,” he agrees, but the unchecked anger in his eyes betrays his airy tone.

I don’t give a shit how much he hates me, though. The independent study is pass/fail, and there’s no possible way he can fail me after Mallory spent the past ten minutes gushing about my work. Even better, she’s the one who’ll be reviewing my midterm appeal once I begin the process.

I have a feeling it’s going to go in my favor.

I excuse myself and do some mingling. Fitz stays by my side, looking less miserable than usual at having to attend a social function. He’s evolving, my sweet-penis man. I’m proud of him.

His teammates take up residence at one of the two bars. Since the party is being hosted by the university’s Fine Arts department, the bartenders aren’t serving anyone without ID. But most of us are of age, and I sip a wine spritzer while Fitz drinks a beer, and we stand there watching the crowd for a bit. Brenna is on the other side of the room chatting with Hollis. They’re laughing about something, and every time she throws her head back, I notice a spark of hope in his eyes. Poor Mike. One of these days he’s going to have to accept that she’s not interested in him.

Fitz gets drawn into hockey talk with Nate and Matt, so I wander around and mingle some more. At one point I bump into Nora and nearly compliment her on her show. Her punk-rock-inspired dresses had been pretty incredible. But her eyes blaze the moment we collide, so I simply murmur an apology and keep walking.

A bit later, I see her at the bar chatting with Laurie, and her expression is drastically brighter. She’s sipping on a pink cocktail, and he’s holding a glass of red wine. He touches her arm, and then he winks and tweaks a strand of her black-and-pink hair. She giggles.

Looks like Nora got her wish—she’s finally the exclusive recipient of Laurie’s attention. Well, she can have the slimy bastard. Good riddance.

The party is winding down when my phone vibrates in the back pocket of my skinny jeans. I pull it out to find a text from Rex.

REX: Saw on Snapchat da hockey boys rocked it. Pissed tho. We wanted to do it!!

* * *

ME: I know you did, sweetie

* * *

REX: Still on for the after party, tho? Got all these kegs here. Shame to waste em.

I walk back to the bar and address Fitz and the others. “Are you down for the after-after-party at Rex’s?”

“Sure,” Fitz says, although grudgingly. “If you want to go?”