Out in the fresh air, I took a steeling breath while Maura pulled away and disappeared down the road. I checked my phone to confirm where Sadie asked me to meet her, and headed for the shelter to the right of the Interpretive Center.
I wondered—too late—if I was overdressed in a button-up and jeans. Sadie said to dress casually, but I hadn’t thought to clarify whatlevelof casual.
I momentarily considered texting Maura to beg her to come back and save me from myself. Butonlymomentarily.
Sadie was impossible to miss. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and she stood alone in the shade of the shelter with a camera bag slung over her shoulder and her camera around her neck.
She spotted me about the same time I saw her, and we both waved.
“Zeke, right?” she asked as I got close enough for her to offer a hand that I took to shake. At my nod, her smile grew impossibly brighter. “I’m Sadie. It’s good to meet you in person.” She gestured behind her at the path leading into the woods. “Your partner for the day got here a few minutes ago, and I’ve already got him waiting at our first location. Do you have any questions for me before we get started?”
“No, not that I can think of.”
“Perfect. Follow me!”
We set out down the trail, and as we walked, she reiterated what we’d talked about over email: consent was king here, and both I and the other participant were expected to respect each other’s boundaries. If at any point either of us were uncomfortable with a suggested pose or with the progression of the shoot, we would stop. Otherwise, she was there as an observer, and the other participant and I were free to explore whatever chemistry we found between us.
“Just keep it safe for work until after I leave,” she said with a smirk.
We came to a bend in the trail, and she held out a hand to stop me.
“Okay, from here on, you’ll need to cover your eyes. I want to catch the first look, so no peeking.” She gestured to my arm. “May I? I’ll make sure you stay on the path.”
I nodded and covered my eyes with my hand, willing my pounding heart to calm down.
She took my arm and started us moving again. Before we turned, she called ahead.
“That means you too, Jericho. Eyes covered.”
A bright laugh met her words, and a voice called back, “Yes, ma’am.”
The nerves returned, fluttering around my stomach and up my throat, and it was all I could do to not trip over the ruts in the trail until we stepped into a patch of grass.
“All right, bear with me while I get you both into position,” Sadie said as she turned me to face her and inched me along until my back pressed up against someone else’s. Then her hands were gone, and the man behind me shifted as she adjusted him next.
“You can drop your hands, but don’t turn around yet. Let me get set up first.”
She’d positioned us in front of an old freestanding stone fireplace, and the sprawl of golden-leafed trees beyond it made for a striking backdrop to the dark hearth. On my other side, Sadie snapped a couple of test shots and adjusted camera settings and framing.
“I’m Jericho,” the man behind me said.
“Zeke.”
“Cute,” he said, and I could hear his grin in his tone. “Should we hold hands for this?”
His hand brushed mine, and my heart hammered even harder. “Sure,” I croaked, and reached back to link our fingers together, palm to palm. I was acutely aware of how clammy mine were.
Sadie watched us with a smile. “All right, I think I’m all set. You ready to turn around and meet for real?”
No, I wanted to say. Because this was already nice, and I wasn’t sure my heart could handle holding this man’s hand face to face. It already felt fit to climb up my throat and tap dance right out of my mouth.
God, Maura was right, and it had beenmuchtoo long since I’d had human interaction outside of her.
I took a steeling breath and turned.
I wasdefinitelyoverdressed.
Jericho’s head barely came up to my shoulder. There was a shock of teal hair peeking out from beneath the hood of his black sleeveless sweatshirt, which was cropped so it only barely covered his ribs and left his midriff bare. An emerald green, scale-shaped pendant hung from a silver chain around his neck and rested just below his collarbone. Ripped jeans clung to his legs all the way down to where they were cuffed above a pair of battered rainbow Chuck Taylor high-tops. He was wiry and petite, and when I finally took in the soft curve of his jaw and his full lips and large chocolate brown eyes, my breath caught. He was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen.
