Chapter 11

Hannah

It's Thursday night, Culver's back, and we're checking off another item on my hot girl summer list.

Originally, I was meant to do this life drawing class with Evie, but something came up at the stadium, and she couldn't make it.

Culver, being a good sport, agreed to come along at the last minute.

"So, how does this work?" he asks, adjusting his easel. "Are we painting fruit or a vase of flowers?"

"Uh, no," I say, getting comfortable on my stool. "I told you, this is a life drawing class."

"Yeah, and fruits and vases are a part of life, aren't they?"

I giggle. "Are you playing with me, or do you really not know?"

"Not know what?"

I giggle again. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. What?"

"A life drawing class is where we draw the human body." I lean over. "From a live model."

"A live model?"

"Yes. They're usually naked so you can study the human form?—"

His jaw drops. "Naked?" I nod. "Define naked."

"Would you like the Oxford or Merriam-Webster definition?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing at the front of the room. "You mean to tell me that there is going to be a naked person standing less than ten feet away from us?"

"Uh-huh. Is there a problem?"

"No. I…I guess not. Are you okay with it?"

I inspect the brushes laid out in a few jars on a small table between us. "I am."

"How are you okay with it?"

I shrug. "It's just a body, Culver. And it's art. A lot of art features the naked body. It's really no big deal."

A brief pause.

"Is it going to be a male model or a female model?"

"I don't know. This is my first time taking a class like this. Why? Does it matter?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

I look over at him, and oh, boy, he looks more uncomfortable than I realized. "Hey. If you're uncomfortable and don't want to do this, we can just leave."

"Hey. Nuh-uh. This is on your hot girl summer list. Chester got you that painting set, which you've mentioned several times you'd like to use, so we are doing it. I am not a prude."

"I never thought you were a prude." I reach over and grab his arm. "Well, maybe just a little bit."

He smiles, knowing that I'm joking.

The model enters the room, draped in a flowing black wrap, but my eyes remain glued on Culver.

Because the model in question is male.

Culver's eyes flick to the guy, but his face doesn't move. "I'm perfectly fine," he mutters, staring straight ahead. "I see naked dudes all the time."

That draws a chuckle out of the person sitting behind us. We both turn around.

"Doyle, what are you doing here?" I ask.

"I like to consider myself somewhat of an artiste," he says with a French flourish. "But I do wonder whether I'm at a disadvantage tonight." He glances at Culver and smiles. "Since unlike some people, I don't see naked dudes all the time."

Culver sights. "You know I meant in the locker room."

"Have a great class," I say politely to Doyle, still a little miffed at him over the whole flinching fiasco.

"I will. Oh, and don't forget—auditions for the Festival of Living Pictures are coming up next week."

He's only looking at Culver, so I respond with an overly enthusiastic, "Oh. We haven't forgotten, and we will both be there. Don't you worry."

Doyle forces a grin. "Glad to hear it."

I will get my flinch redemption. I. Will.

As the model disrobes, Culver leans over. "Everyone in Comfort Bay is going to know we were here tonight."

I giggle. "Good thing then that neither one of us is a prude, right?"