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He’s saying he can imagine spending the rest of his life with me.
No.
He’s saying that, for this artistic purpose, I could fulfill that role. I need to remember that.
They are two very different things.
“Okay,” I mutter. “When do you want to do it?”
His teeth are clenched. He releases them when he speaks. He must be eager to get on with this project.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Maybe I should go to the studio and….”
Undress.
Jeez, is this really happening?
“And get myself ready?” I finish. “I can text you when I’m wearing… well, you know.”
He smirks, new light glinting into his eyes. “Your underwear. You can say it, Faye. Or are you really that shy?”
“I can’t be that shy, can I?” I say, summoning some sassiness as I stare up at him. “I’m about to do a freaking underwear shoot!”
“Yes,” he says, voice rumbling. “You are. Go on, then. Get ready. Let me know when I can come in.”
“And nobody’s going to see these photos?”
“Nobody but me,” he snarls. “I can promise you that.”
Confusion whirls through me as I stand, my legs trembling, my mouth dry.
It’s like he’s pissed at the thought of another man looking at me.
Could I be so freaking lucky?
“Okay. See you in a minute.”
I walk across the warehouse to the door at the corner which leads to the studio. I’m sure I can feel his eyes on me, and I let myself hope, dream that there’s more to this than some photos.
Should I trust him not to show anybody else?
I’m too caught up in it to stop now anyway. It’s like that pulsing deep in my core won’t let me.
It’s only when I get into the studio that I realize something. My heart starts thumping way too hard when the thought slams into me, followed by a vicious shot of guilt, slicing me up inside.
Making me feel small and like the worst kind of friend imaginable.
Lola.
I’ve agreed to this without even asking Lola if she’d be okay with it, her father photographing me half-naked.
I even fight the urge as I take my phone from my bra and scroll to Lola’s name.
My body feels sore, especially my sex, my folds rubbing hotly against my panties. The thought of Felix photographing me definitely has some parts of me oh-so ready, not nervous at all, prepared to be the person Felix needs me to be.
It’s not like I’m super confident about my body or anything. I’ve never had a reason to be.
