"What do you think about modeling?" came the nonchalant question from the bed.

"Like, as in, for magazines and stuff?" Ryder responded, looking over at Sam.

Sam looked up at him, nodding and closing the issue of Sports Illustrated he'd been reading. "Yeah. My body is good enough for it, right?" He grinned and pulled at the hem of his shirt, a strip of flesh peeking beneath the fabric.

Sam was his. He didn't want to share him. Most people would've killed to date a model, but that boy was his. He needed to be supportive, though. "Go for it."