I got it.
I really bloody got why his hands were going viral.
They were large,veiny. Strong.
When he was done and I lifted the camera to look at his face, he gave a dashing smile and I had to stop the video right there and then to no longer watch him through the lens. “Is there anything you could hold with your thumb out, fingerstogether? Something wide?”
“Why?”
“Hand necklaces,” I muttered, looking for something to picture him holding. A large mug? He had a thermal flask… could that work?
When I looked up, there was a deep crease between his dark brows. “Hand… necklaces?” he asked, French accent strong. “What does this mean?”
I peered around us to check if anyone was about, then lifted my hand to my throat to lightly choke myself.
His expression didn’t budge.
“Like…” Fucking hell. “Come on now, Nixon. You know what I mean.”
He blinked with understanding multiple times, head inching back. I hated that he could be cute. “Oh. Hand necklaces,” he said with a laugh. “Why call it that?”
I shrugged. “It’s just the… PC term.”
“Do you know much about hand necklaces?”
I hadn’t discussed sex in a very long time. Especially not any kinks I liked.
“Not your business,Armas,” I muttered, but I could feel my face heat.
His smile became a smirk. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I was thinking of trying to use your mass consumption of petrol as a positive,” I said, watching through the video. “Donations and events for global warming. There’s an upcoming campaign I want to sign you up for. We can use your arrogance to our advantage.”
“My arrogance is advantageous,” he agreed, but I didn’t look up from my phone, cropping the length of the clip. I’d have to browse through my saved trending audio later.
“Something along the lines of as you’re the fastest, and therefore consume more petrol, you’re fighting the most against climate change.”
“I am the fastest,” he agreed.
“Sorted,” I said, saving the draft and thankful it was time for the group shot by the shouts across the studio.
“You really care about this, don’t you?” he asked, looking me over.
“Your image? Yes. It’s my job.”
“So it wasn’t just because you like the thought of wearing my hand necklace?”
“No,” I snapped but Nix walked off with that same satisfied smile.
And I wanted to hit him.
Queueing to get on the coach back to the hotel withLuca, a hand grabbed my shoulder. “You not going to drive me back, Livid?”
Lucapaused at my side, letting the others go up and get seated as he waited for me to talk to Nixon.
“You can drive yourself now, I’m sure,” I said and went to go again.
“I think I’m still too hungover,” he pressed. “And seeing as we couldn’t have our meeting here, because we took so long at the hotel…”
