Bourbon and Ray-Bans

The GQ shoot was scheduled for February 23rd, the day before my 29th birthday. I flew to Manhattan on the 22nd and checked into the SOHO Grand. We’d be doing the shoot in an abandoned loft space a few blocks closer to Chinatown and Norm’s apartment. I spent that Wednesday night in an all out war against Mingus. The kid’s Call of Duty skills had vastly improved and mine had done the opposite. He won all but two games. Norman laughed at me the entire time.

The next morning I headed to the address specified an hour before I had to, but I liked getting a feel for things and people before all the chaos started. Plus, the more time I spent with the crew, the less awkward being naked around them would feel. The space was gorgeous - broken windows that the sun hit just right. Lots of random graffiti painted along the walls in every color imaginable. The lead photographer, Griffin, explained to me that the space was owned by a painter’s group who eventually wanted to turn the loft into a studio. They were just waiting on the funds to do the reno work.

Griffin walked me through his vision for the shoot, and I worked with the stylists, makeup/hair artists to refine my look. The first set up would have me fully clothed in a long, sheer dress perfect for something like the Oscars. Norm would be in a tuxedo. The idea being in the same vein as ‘from rags to riches’ but reversed. From riches to zombie apocalypse rags. The gorgeous dress would be ripped to shreds leaving very little to the imagination. Norman would be left in nothing but his ripped and torn pants. We’d also be wet. Because sweat, obviously. This was either going to be the cheesiest thing ever or the next best thing to porn. Maybe both.

I didn’t see Norm until I was dress for the first set up which would be filmed outside the hotel across the street. He had been taking some individual shots first since GQ was, after all, a men’s magazine. They had him leaning against a Shelby GT prop car. The car was so hot I barely even noticed Norm.

“Glad to know I got nothing against this set of wheels.” He pretended to be offended.

“Is it wrong to have impure thoughts about a car?” I ran my hands along her fender.

“Not this one.” He laughed, and we got through the first session quickly. They even let me drive the car around the block!

We broke for lunch. I got to relax in the sweats I had worn that morning. Norman spent most of the break on the phone with someone who was apparently very chatty. I got the feeling that that someone was female.

Wardrobe came to get me a little earlier than I expected. They were about to shred the dress and needed me to be in it while they did the shredding. I was allowed to wear my bra and undies for this part, and it was kind of fun to have a beautiful gown torn to bits around me. Next, they brought Norman in to do some pre-posing and light setup. I was starting to get nervous about the actual toplessness just around the corner.

Norman smirked at me when he first walked in.

“What?” I was fairly certain I looked like an idiot in my current getup.

“Someone spent some time starving herself and working out this month. Are you having chocolate withdrawals?” Was that a compliment?

“I’m heading directly to the greasiest diner I can find in this stupid city as soon as we’re done. I haven’t stuffed myself good and proper in ages.” I had been dreaming of diner food, literally, for about two weeks now.

Once everything was ready to go, they closed the set to nonessentials to make me feel less awkward. My tits were on a strict need-to-see policy only. My wardrobe assistant applied pasties with some kind of hideous smelling glue and reworked the dress now that my bra had been removed. I actually ended up feeling less naked that I thought I would. There was fabric covering me; it was just completely see-through. Next she took a spray bottle and started wetting me down. They were using a sticky sugar water that wouldn’t really dry out. This was the closest I had been to sugar in weeks.

Wardrobe gave me her final approval and walked me over to Norman. I couldn’t meet his eye. Griffin wanted both of us on our knees - me in front with my back pressed against Norm’s chest a little off center so you could still see most of his right half. Griffin wanted Norman’s hands to grip my hips tightly and pull me into him. I was supposed to push my ass into Norman and arch my back a bit (also known as stick my tits out) while reaching up with my right hand to grip the back of his head, my face turned into his neck, and my left hand on top of his left hand.

They took a million pictures like that. My knees ached, and I could tell Norm’s did too by all his weight shifting. They altered the pose a little bit here and there. They had him turn his head down towards me slightly or me bite his neck - no tongue though. AMC had vetoed any tongue. My boobs were fine, but tongue was taking it a step too far. No one said anything beyond Griffin’s prompts and directions. I still hadn’t looked Norman in the eye. I was just concentrating on breathing and trying not to focus on my hand in his hair, his chest rubbing against my back, or his hands gripping my hips. No need to even mention his goddamn neck and how good he smelled.

Our final pose for the day was very similar to the last one, but we’d be facing each. And Griffin wanted me sans sheer fabric from the waist up. Getting the sticky shreds off was a painful bitch. Not that much had physically changed, but it felt very fucking different. I immediately glued myself to Norman’s chest and wouldn’t look anyone in the eyes.

“Hey, I can’t breathe. Just relax. At least your nipples aren’t on full display like some of us here.” I finally looked at him long enough to shoot daggers. “You’re far less on show now anyway, unless you’re worried about my tits rejecting yours which I can assure you won’t be happening. Approximately every straight guy in this room is drooling and that includes yours truly.”

I tried to calm my breathing and focus on the fact that the shoot was almost over. But then Griffin came out of left field with a request I was not expecting. “Would you guys mind too terribly if I asked you to actually do a little making out?”

What the fuck? “Kissing’s not allowed,” I blurted out.

“Well, technically, you’re free to kiss as long as it doesn’t end up in the magazine. But I’d like an almost-kiss shot which I’ve found is only really believable if those involved are actually kissing. I’d just use a still image right before or after any actual kissing. It’d make a great cover. The issue would sell out guaranteed.” He was giving us his best puppy dog eyes. “Ultimately, it’s up to you guys, though. I just assumed you’d eventually have to do it on the show anyway. And I had heard rumors…”

My whole body tensed. I pulled away from Norman and wrapped my arms around my chest. I looked at him incredulously. Was this really about to happen? He shrugged his shoulders at me and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “He’s right, you know. We’ll have to do it eventually anyway. Might as well get the practice in now before we make our debut in front of a much larger audience.”

I hadn’t even considered this a possibility. On the show, I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that one day, years from now, it would probably happen. But I ignored that part of my brain as much as possible. To be confronted with this out of the blue and all of a sudden sent me reeling. But I didn’t want to be the crybaby. I’d have to do it. I’d have to sit here on my knees, half naked, and make out with the boy - the man - I couldn’t even admit to myself that I might have feelings for.

“Whatever.” It was barely a whisper.

“You look like you’ve been sentenced to death. If kissing me is really that bad, you can say no, B. We’ve done everything we signed on to do.” I risked a glance to him. He actually looked sincerely hurt.

“No, it’s not you. I’m just nervous. I’ve never done anything like this in front of people and a camera.” He squeezed my shoulder in an attempt to reassure me.

Griffin repositioned our arms around each other so that enough side boob was visible (Jesus). “Y’all can begin whenever you feel comfortable. Keep it pretty chaste. No tongue, please. I’m not in the mood for a lawsuit.” I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood. He was actually a really cool, professional photographer to work with, and mostly I had felt comfortable the entire session.

I looked at Norman’s nose fully expecting him to take the lead. His grip on me got tighter, and my stomach did funny things that it shouldn’t have.

“Eyes up, Brodie. I need to know this is okay.” He spoke so softly that I knew he only wanted me to hear. And he had said my full name. Why did that have such an effect on me?

I looked up at him, full permission written all over my backstabbing face. Because the truth was, I wanted him to kiss me far more than I wanted him to not kiss me. My hands were twisted in his hair, and I knew they were shaking so I gripped his hair a little harder which was the final thing I remembered before his was mouth was on mine.

I’d be lying if I said time slowed down and the world stopped spinning. Blah, blah, blah. The world sped up, time flew by, and the few kisses we shared were over before I had time to wrap my mind around the fact that his lips had been anywhere near mine in the first place. I couldn’t even recall if I had kissed him back. The whole thing was one gigantic, fuzzy daze. Our first kiss and I had mentally checked out.

“Hey, B. You can let go.” Shit, I was still yanking on his hair. People were already taking lights down and a robe had been placed over my shoulders. Totally fucking embarrassed, I reared back and quickly wrapped the robe around me. I stood up so fast I nearly fell over backwards. Griffin walked over and shook our hands, thanking us for our time, and assuring us the spread would look great. I just nodded along to everything before running off to put my clothes back on and get the hell out of there.

“Brodie, wanna grab dinner?” Norman was running after me as I jogged down the stairs to leave the building.

“Um...no thanks. I’m just going to head back to my hotel and call it an early night. I’m a bit tapped out.” I was back to not being able to look at him.

He caught up to me quickly and held the door open. I walked through it and felt shockingly relieved as the freezing air hit me. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just...it’s been a long day, and I have an early flight tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t fly back tomorrow. Stay and hang out this weekend. For your birthday. Mingus would want you to. I want you to.” The offer was so tempting. I wanted to stay with him. Hell, truth was I wanted nothing more than to go back to his apartment, crawl into his bed, and never leave. But I was being ridiculous, acting like a lovesick teenager with a crush on the quarterback she had no hope of catching. Whatever had happened back there hadn’t even fazed him. I had gotten way out of hand and just needed to be back in Atlanta with my dog and in Jason’s bed. Because there was a Jason.

“Thanks, but I gotta go home. Trix is there. And Jason.” Might as well drop his name now.

“Who’s Jason?” He had lit a cigarette and hidden behind the Ray-Bans.

“He’s a guy. A guy I’m dating. For a couple of months now. Trix is with him.” I sounded almost ashamed of having a boyfriend shaped thing or whatever.

“Okay, cool. Well, Happy Birthday, B. I shipped you something. I hope you like it. Mingus and I made it.” He smiled and reached his hand out to hail a cab. When one pulled over, he opened the door and motioned for me to get inside. I dipped under his arm and ducked into the car. He shut the door and waved as the cab pulled out into traffic.