Exposed (7 page)

B
riar was usually
cool as ice in the audience of a show. He didn’t do much backstage—just left it to Julius and the rest of the team. They knew their jobs, and he wasn’t so much of a micromanager that he couldn’t let them.

He was the only executive at this show. A few of his guys were flying in later this week, for the biggest shows, but they had three more fashion weeks to prepare for all at once. They couldn’t spare everyone at once.

This time, though, his fingers were locked tightly together. He refused to think any less of his models than the conviction that they’d steal the show, but other things still went wrong.

“This seat taken?”

A chill flashed through him like a bucket of water tossed in the air that flash-froze.

Oh, fuck. That’s why I haven’t seen him on the runway.

He gritted his teeth to answer, but Austin was already sinking into the chair, crossing one slender ankle over his knee as he turned his gaze to the runway.

“I hear you have quite a lineup. All fresh faces. Couldn’t scare up anyone else?”

“You should stick to not opening your mouth,” Briar retorted. “You’re prettier that way.”

Austin pressed his thin lips together. “You preferred me opening my mouth.”

“Both of us remember who started us.” It was a strange word rolling out of Briar’s mouth:
us
. Like he could put a label on their fiery, undefinable, whirlwind romance.

Not romance. Fling, generously. Austin clearly never gave a crap about him if he was here to wave his dick around.

Thank god the next designer was announced then.

This was them.

Briar leaned forward, pressing his steepled hands between his knees and ignoring Austin mirroring him beside him.

“Rumor has it you’ve invited a very fresh face along. Let’s see if I can pick him out.”

Briar’s jaw twitched but he ignored Austin, watching Adam stride out in the perfect, measured Exposed gait. Nobody could walk like his guys.

Close on his heels was Jon, then Paulo. They both did just fine—just as he’d expect. Attitude for miles, a perfect pout, a twirl or stomp at the end, back.

But his eyes were on Gabe.

Gabriel was stunning. He wore the flowing trousers Briar had guessed they would put him in, what with that ass. And Christ, he made them look less 1970s than Briar had feared.

Mostly, it wasn’t the perfectly gelled blond hair or the blush of extra red on his lips, though. It was the look in his eye, like he knew he was the hottest man in the room and he just
dared
anyone else to think otherwise.

Briar shifted slightly.

“Gotcha,” Austin breathed into his ear.

Briar nearly jumped out of his skin. For a brief second, he’d forgotten the asshole he’d stupidly trusted was still there; lurking at his elbow to see who he was watching the closest.

“He’s our newest and he’s a thousand times better than you ever were. You start an agency ’cause you couldn’t find anyone to hire you?” Briar breathed out under the pulsing music.

Gabriel lifted his chin and twirled like he didn’t give a single fuck who liked his walk, and Briar smirked.

“Please,” Austin snorted. “If he doesn’t sign with me by the end of the summer, I’ll suck your dick.”

“Keep your mouth and your legs closed and you’ll go a lot further in this business, honey,” Briar drawled. “Nobody wants a petty thief.”

It was a cheap shot and a dangerous one.

“I knew it was you starting that rumor,” Austin hissed. “I could go after you for libel.”

“Mm hmm. You and whose lawyer? Hearsay, darling,” Briar hummed. “Nobody knows who started those rumors.”

He wasn’t proud of it, but fucking hell, he’d earned the right to be a bit nasty. Austin had built a career under the pretense of a life together, then trimmed the fat. Including him, Exposed, and their plans for the future.

All a pipe dream until he had enough exposure to strike out on his own.

Now, looking sideways at him in the dim ballroom light, he could barely remember the whispered conversations under the covers at nights. Traveling together, Austin moving into a managerial role, a house, fuck knows what else.

“He’ll be mine,” Austin whispered and stood up to move seats, walking a few rows back during the final lineup.

And then his guys were done.

Gabriel had walked three times in different outfits, just as planned, and he’d been flawless. Briar ought to be relieved—smug, even.

Instead, as he rose to slip backstage and meet Julius for the debrief, he just felt sick.

“
C
hampagne
, sir?”

Gabriel delicately picked up the glass stem between two fingers and tilted his chin in a slight nod to the waiter circulating the room like a polite, black-and-white-clad ghost.

“So, like I was saying, Markie’s elephant prints? Come on. It’s not a safari.”

“I think they’re innovative.”

Gabriel was staying the fuck
out
of this conversation. It was still surreal to be invited into it at all, let alone witnessing the heavyweight fight about to unfold.

Kingston and Paulo were two of the top male models in the world, and they were signed to different agencies. It was a rare friendship between guys who were technically competitors, but somehow it worked. They let their agents handle duking it out for the best gigs, and, at parties like this one, they hung out—and flirted, of course.

Rumor had a lot more happen between them, but Gabriel was about to get his first proper glimpse at it.

“It’s stylish in a retro-contemporary way,” Kingston put his foot down, sipping his champagne and giggling as he leaned into Paulo. “You just hate animals.”

Paulo clicked his tongue and gestured toward Gabriel with his glass, addressing him instead of his friend. “Untrue.”

Gabriel laughed. “Animal prints?”

“No, he got bit by a dog or something,” Kingston winked. “Since then, he rejects everything. Jameson made him walk in this cute little number with kittens on it. Nearly pissed myself at the look on his face.”

Gabriel knew exactly which collection and show that was; he hadn’t been following Paulo on Instagram for years for nothing. He pretended this was the first he’d heard of it, though, and laughed.

“I like the knit ties with everything,” Gabriel admitted. Who didn’t like knit ties? Boring, but safe.

“Mmm,” Kingston hummed. “It seemed old to me, but the runways
are
always a step behind
us
.”

Gabriel grinned. Models really liked to think they were on the cutting edge of fashion—even more so than anyone else in the damn business.

In reality, a lot of male models couldn’t afford the clothes they wore in print spreads. The top few hundred, maybe. Luckily for him, it looked like he had a shot.

Not that he’d complain about making a living, but if he could make
more
money for the same shit?

Hell, yeah.

Kingston offered Gabriel a nibble from the passing hors d’oeuvres tray, but Gabriel winked and shook his head. He knew that trick: fatten up the other agency’s guys.

Kingston clicked his tongue and shrugged. “So, Gabe, your first show? How’re you liking it?”

“It’s… a lot,” Gabriel admitted. That much was true. “But I’ve been waiting a long time for this shot.”

Paulo half-smiled, casting Kingston a wistful glance. “Oh, that first-show feeling. You never forget your first time.”

Kingston toasted that, sliding his arm around Paulo’s shoulders. “Yours was glorious, baby. Nobody will forget that week in Paris.”

“What happens in Paris…” Paulo smirked, clinking his glass to Gabriel’s. “You did great, baby.”

Just then, a hot blond sidled up behind Gabriel, putting his hand on his shoulder. “How’re you? Great job earlier.”

Gabriel turned into him for a quick look up and down.

Well, wasn’t
he
sexier than a tall lemonade? He stood an inch shorter or so, and he had earnest, wide, dark eyes.

The kind of eyes that won Gabriel over instantly.

Like Briar’s.

Gabriel’s heart dropped. He wasn’t in the habit of comparing hookups. Every guy was hot for his own reasons.

But Briar hadn’t looked twice at him since supper that first night. They’d never been in the same room long enough anyway. No doubt he was avoiding him in the interest of discretion, but it made Gabriel’s heart sink.

He batted his lashes anyway, turning into the other guy and murmuring, “Thanks. I didn’t see you backstage, did I…?”

“I’m with a magazine. I was on the other side of the curtain,” the stranger told him with a grin.

Gabriel laughed.
Is this a chance at something?
“Ahhh. I’m pleased you remembered me out of everyone who walked today, then.”

“How could I not?”

Gabriel knew when he was being blatantly hit on. He still hesitated, scanning the dark club around him for some distraction.

There was Briar, lounging against a post, his hip cocked and one toe against the ground. He rarely modeled now, except for the rare business or lifestyle magazine as a CEO, but he still stood like one when he wasn’t thinking.

It was a tiny detail that Gabriel loved. Fucking hell, was he stuck on this guy?

The blond magazine guy was saying something and Gabriel had to turn back to him. “Mm?”

Kingston and Paulo had slipped away to talk in a corner nearby, so he had no hope of rescue there.

“I was asking if you have plans tonight.”

“Sleep is one,” Gabriel grinned. “The makeup chair calls at an early hour.”

“Too early to stay up too late? That’s a shame.”

Gabriel nodded, letting his gaze flick up and down. An Armani scent, expensive branded clothes. Not just an intern, then; this guy could be important. He couldn’t brush him off.

He ignored the part of him that said,
Holy shit, you stupid asshole, you got into the biz to fuck guys like him and now you’re trying to ditch him?

Instead, Gabriel winked again. “I’m sure I’ll see you around this week.”

“I hope so.”

Before Gabriel even made it to the place he’d last spotted Briar, he felt a hand brush down his back. He recognized the firm touch and the sweet, spicy scent of his CEO and the man who’d hired him.

And his heart lifted with hope.

Gabriel smiled, turning slightly until he met Briar’s eyes. “Hello.”

“Enjoying the attention?”

“I am. Jealous?” It was a bold question, but Gabriel wanted to test the waters between them. Fuck, but all he had to do was look at him for about ten seconds and that chemistry crackled to life under his skin again.

Some guys he fucked once and never looked at again, but this wasn’t like that. He and Briar still had a lot of hot encounters in them.

And Briar felt it too, by the way his eyes fell for long moments to Gabriel’s lips before he shook his head. “No need to be. You earned every moment of attention today.”

And it was true—Gabriel had worked his ass off that day, and technically, he was still working and representing Exposed. Gabriel inclined his head to acknowledge the comment.

“A lot of eyes on us tonight,” Briar murmured, leaning in closer. “And you have to be up and at it early. Saturday night, I expect you’ll be ready to party.”

After the final show—the biggest of all? Fuck, yeah, Gabriel would be ready to get drunk and…

Oh. Wait.
That
kind of party?

Gabriel grinned broadly. “Oh, yeah.”

Then Briar nodded once to him and was gone, picking his way through the crowd to check in with Adam. Was he making some indecent proposal to him, too?

Gabriel watched after Briar for a minute as he finished his champagne glass and set it down.

He refused to admit that it was his turn to be jealous.

* * *

“
M
y lips are fine
.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth with irritation as Charlie insisted on putting on another top coat anyway.

He was going to look
too
fem now with lips that color. But then, he reminded himself, the runway took half of it off. He was seeing up close what was meant to be stage makeup.

“There.
Now
they’re fine, darling,” Charlie beamed. “A little more on your cheeks…”

Gabriel cocked his head. He had nearly perfect skin already, but Charlie was layering on makeup anyway?

“Just to even your skin tone, make sure the lights show you at your best.”

Gabriel clicked his tongue but straightened out his head for Charlie to have one more go at his cheeks.

“There! Now you’re ready to go!” Charlie concluded with another grin. “Well, once they fit you for sure.”

Gabriel was getting tired of people pinching and sewing and pulling him around, dressing him like a mannequin. He was good at acting like he didn’t care, loose and pliable in the team’s hands, but underneath, he simmered with annoyance.

Still, he let them do their jobs until he was lined up, ready and waiting for the light.

This time, Gabriel was first.

He’d tried to ignore Adam’s sideways glances at him when the producer had told them the lineup.

He’d also tried not to smirk too much.

He
was
good. By his second or third show, people had seen that. It was his fourth now in as many days, and he knew what to expect every step of the way.

Sure, there were last-minute malfunctions: a jeans zipper went, a hem didn’t sit right, or a hairstyle wouldn’t cooperate until it was gelled into compliance. But they all got fixed in time by someone or other. His job was just to stand there and look pretty, and he could do that damn well.

He strutted toward the door when his light turned green.

The world was
his
stage and he was fucking rocking it.

Gabriel was completely unfazed by the sea of faces now, and the thumping music and footsteps of the other guys behind him… it was all only a backdrop to the main attraction: him.

One foot in front of the other, his hips and chest out, his shoulders flung back, his chin cocked, Gabriel walked.