I squeeze my eyes shut and mentally write the email I will probably have to send to my therapist tonight to see if she has time to fit me in tomorrow. I’m so busy writing it in my head I miss when the clicking of Jim’s camera stops.
“Okay, let’s try the other pose I want,” he says, coming close and lifting an arm to move Loncey.
Shit, no. Don’t move them. Don’t…
They don’t move. They are yanked, but they don’t move an inch. They stay where they are, their back against my front, andalthough I’ve loosened my hold, I’m still lodged close enough to them that my skin is still grazing theirs.
“Give us a minute,” Loncey says to Jim, who tuts loudly and walks away swearing.
“Maeve, can you get your towel?” Loncey leans their head back so only I can hear.
I look down at the towel at my feet. “Yeah, okay,” I say and I quickly reach down and pick it up.
“Is it on?” they ask.
“Yeah,” I reply once it’s wrapped around my body.
“I’m going to move now.”
“Okay,” I say, and they do. Standing up and turning to me, they offer me a big smile. It’s so big and so surprising and so kind that I can’t help but smile back.
Fucker. I’m not supposed to be enjoying this. This Jim Fucking Harlow can have all my fake smiles but he doesn’t get my real smiles.
But the camera shutter is not clicking, and Jim is still chatting away with his staff.
“So,” Loncey says, and that snaps my eyes back to theirs. “I think he wants your back to the camera now. And I’ll stand in front of you and again, I’ll stand close enough that nobody will see anything. And I’ll stay close the whole time.”
Part of me wants to roll my eyes and berate them for being a bit OTT with this protector role they seem to want to adopt, but a bigger part of me is too busy letting out a long exhale of relief. Because they really are helping me. They’re making it easy for me to do this stupid topless shoot without actually being topless in front of anyone.
“Okay,” I say, simply, and I move to stand in front of them.
I look up into their eyes as I take a few small steps and get close enough that the material of my towel brushes against their warm skin and my hand is wedged between us, holding it up.
“Jesus fucking Christ, get closer. You’re supposed to look like you just fucked each other’s brains out not like you’re afraid you’re going to get nits from the other.”
“This fucking asshole is so close to getting on my last nerve,” Loncey says under their breath, still holding my eye contact. They’re only a few inches taller than me and I like it. Why, I’m not really sure, but I do.
“I don’t think he’s a very nice man,” I say simply. “And where I come from, we still believe not very nice men go to hell.”
Loncey grins at that. “You don’t believe in horoscopes but you believe in heaven and hell?”
I shrug. “You can take the girl out of Catholic Ireland but you can’t take the Catholic out of the Irish girl?”
“When you’ve fucking finished nattering, I’d like to wrap this before the end of the fucking year!” Jim’s voice snaps but neither of us looks his way.
“Ready?” Loncey asks, their hazel eyes fixed on me.
I nod and they move a little bit closer. At the same time I drop the towel and press my body against theirs. We’re so close now that holding eye contact is impossible and for some inexplicable reason I find myself missing it.
“Hands on her fucking waist, please. I would say she doesn’t bite, but who fucking knows.”
“Such a fucking cunt,” I mumble so only Loncey can hear.
“A big fucking cunt,” they agree.
“And now you need to toss those golden locks over your shoulder, sweetheart, and give me a fucking dazzling smile, please,” Jim orders and even though I’m not facing him I can tell from his voice that he’s getting closer.
“Fucking arsehole,” I mutter before doing as he asks.
