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My instincts are pulsing, telling me to charge at the door, throw it open, and pull her into my arms.
“Come in,” I call.
Faye pushes the door open, a folder clasped in her hands. I swear, her scent moves into the room before she does. She smells young, ready, and eager to start our future together.
Except no, no, she doesn’t.
That’s what I want her to be feeling.
Except no…I don’t.
If she felt that, Lola would crumble.
It would break her, this betrayal.
Wouldn’t it? What am I basing this on?
Oh, right.
Common fucking sense.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, all skittish as she walks over to my desk.
She holds the folder in front of her with both hands, her arms brushing against her breasts. It makes me think of what she’d look like without her shirt, her bra, pushing her tits together as she aims that pout at me.
“You can do whatever you want to me,”I imagine her saying, causing my manhood to surge against my pants. My helm bulges. “You own me. I belong to you. Whatever. You. Want. Felix.”
“Uh, I’m done,” she says after a pause. “The first batch, I mean. Did you want me to go straight onto the second?”
I nod, ordering myself to smile or try to. But I can’t. All I can do is stare at her with hunger pounding through me – then think of Lola, of her reaction if I told her how her best friend’s making me feel.
“Yeah,” I say. “Well done, Faye.”
She smiles tightly, laying the folder down. “Don’t say that yet. Maybe I picked all the worst ones.”
“I saw your photos. I know you’ve got a good eye. But we’ll see.”
She nods, opening her mouth, closing it. She looks like she wants to say something, but that flush has returned to her cheeks, spreading across them, making me want to grab my camera and snap a photo.
I would do it right now if she weren’t friends with Lola, even if I should know better. Even if I should realize how dangerous it would be coming on this heavily.
It makes me think of Lola’s mother and how that ended.
And that just solidifies this even more, how much I care about Faye. So much more than I’ve ever wanted anybody else, with a depth I don’t even understand, like she’s cast a spell on me.
“Is there anything else?” I ask after a pause.
“Well….”
She gestures to the other side of the room, where my whiteboard is.
“I guess I’m curious about that.”
I read the entry at the top of the whiteboard.
Underwear shoot?
“I’ve never known you to do anything like that,” she goes on. “But it would make a good change. Something a little less….”
