He gripped my elbow, keeping me on my toes and close to him. “What, when you wanted to join me in the shower?” His voice lowered. “While I was in there thinking of you joining me?”
I’d known it, but it felt good to have it confirmed. It felt too good.
His eye contact was intense as I lowered back to the floor.
And, just like that, a smug smirk graced that beautiful face.
“Quick!” I made a theatrical moment of gesturing everyoneback. “Places, everyone! He’s showingfeeling!”
He laughed and Jason got everyone into position. Nix managed to smile for longer, his gaze falling upon me and when I threw a dramatic thumbs up his way, his smile reignited, more laughingatme thanwithme. As long as it got results, I didn’t care.
“Okay, we’ve got it,” Jason said. “Nix, we’ll only need you when we do the big group shot in half an hour.Luca, we need someheadshots.”
Waiting for Nix to collect his things, my eye caught onLuca’snumbers discarded at the side by my chair. “Tell me if this is an awful idea, but for the group shot, could we haveAlv’snumber in the background? It would be a good way to honour him.”
Jason gave me a measured look. “We’re keeping a shot of him for the end of the intro… yeah, okay. Let’s give that a go and if it doesn’t work, we can edit it out.”
Luca beamed. “That’s a great idea, Livie.”
Nix looked down at the numbers on the floor, unlit and dull. It took a couple of times for him to hear me say his name.
All smiles were gone.
AndLucaand the production team were walking off for hisheadshots. It was just Nix and me and I didn’t dare to interrupt him, rapt, staring.
I couldn’t even begin to understand how he felt. Guilt? Shame? Grief?
My heart broke for him.
Then he shook his head, looking up and blinked when he saw me standing there.
I should have walked away.
He opened his mouth, then stopped, slamming it shut.
“I need a video of your hands,” I blurted.
His blink this time was slow and he said with a chuckle, “Sorry?”
“Subtly.”
He frowned with another breath of laughter. “What?”
I straightened and walked towards the bike. “I need a video of your hands. A picture of your hands. Last night, several reels about your hands went viral. So we play into that. Tell me about the buttons. The screen. Point.” As I instructed, he got onto the bike, staring at the handlebars and started to flick them.
“My hands?” he asked in astonishment.
He lifted his palms to stare at them in wonder. I gently turned them over. “The back of your hands.”
“The — what?”
“Women find them attractive,” I said, getting up the camera app on my phone.
His frown deepened. “My hands?” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“Okay then,” he said, gaining himself and once I nodded to tell him he was filming, he was in his element, explaining each of the buttons, the screen, how to save fuel consumption. He moved his hands masterfully, slowly, gliding his finger against the smooth metal.
