Chapter 3
Iwoke up on the couch in one of the studio dressing rooms, confused, disoriented, and my lips burning with the memory of his touch. How had I ended up here, dressed like a girl, and fainting beneath the kiss of a well-known model?
I reached up to touch my lips, like I could still feel him there. Had he found out I was a boy? Maybe been horrified and left? Was I horrified?
No. It hadn’t been like I expected. In movies people mash their faces together and call it romance. I’d always thought it a bit gross. Lucas’s kiss hadn’t felt anything like that. It had been sweet, warm, and gentle, like a caress. Not even awkward like most hugs people requested from me.
The door opened and Lucas stepped inside, gaze searching, then widening when he found me awake. He crossed the room to perch on the edge of the couch, setting an armful of water bottles on the floor beside his feet, then opening one for me.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” I echoed, feeling dumb for passing out. I gulped down the water like I’d been lost in the desert. Had I had anything all morning? I couldn’t recall. Every trip back to the dressing room had been filled with clothing changes and makeup touch ups, no time for a break.
“I should have realized you were nervous and not drinking. The lights get really warm. You should have had at least four of these already,” Lucas held up another bottle for me. “I forget not everyone does this all the time like I do.”
“I feel stupid,” I whispered. And his lips still on mine. Did he know I was a guy? Did I sound like a guy? I had passed out from lack of water? I hadn’t eaten anything since the Pop-Tarts this morning, either. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin the shoot.” I tried to sit up but he held out a hand to stop me, his touch solid on my shoulder, palm to bare skin warming my cheeks in a flush.
“Rest. Drink some water.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m really sorry for the kiss. It was unprofessional of me. I got a little lost in the moment.”
His expression changed to a bit of panic. “I mean, that doesn’t make it any better. I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking.” A blush stained his cheeks but he bowed his head in shame for a moment. “Most of the models I work with are so cold it’s hard to get any chemistry with them. Even pretend chemistry for a shoot. You and I have a natural sort of thing. You should talk to my agent. He can set you up for a contract. Maybe we can work together again.” He flinched. “If you don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. I’m not mad,” I promised. “Surprised, but not mad.” What we had was chemistry? Was that why his touch felt nice? Was it normal if we were both guys? “No offense, but I’d rather be taking pictures than in them.”
“That’s too bad,” Lucas said. “You’re a natural.” He held up the bottle again. “Drink. No reason to pass out again.”
“It was the shoes,” I tried to blame them even though I’d only worn them for a few minutes.
“Right? What even was that? They weren’t safe for anyone.”
I drank down the rest of the second bottle surprised to still be thirsty.
“People don’t realize how much work it is—the lights, holding a pose, standing in awkward positions, moving with someone else to fit some preconceived image,” Lucas said. “It’s very little pretty pictures and glamor, and a lot of sweating and makeup.”
No kidding! “Thank you for being patient with me. I hope they can use some of the pictures. It was fun, even if it’s not something I normally do. You helped make it easier.”
“I’ve seen a handful of the pictures on the computer. Mr. Clark, my agent, is negotiating with the modeling agency and the boutique owner right now. Your aunt wants to make sure you’re well compensated. You’ll have to bring home some papers for your parents to sign. Releases and that sort of thing, but the pictures looked amazing.” He grinned. “We look great together.”
“What if my parents don’t sign off? I hadn’t exactly planned to become a model today.” Would they get mad? Would my dad not want anyone to see me dressed as a girl?
“It will work out. You’ll see.” He helped me sit up, adjusting the strap on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. Most people don’t look too closely at the faces in these sorts of things. No one is going to chase you down the street demanding an autograph.”
“Has that happened to you?” I wondered.
He grimaced, “A time or two, but usually only after big stuff like commercials, or that TV bit I did last year.”
I didn’t think anyone was going to recognize me.Ididn’t recognize me. And that was okay. “That would be bizarre. People wanting an autograph for being in a picture?”
He shrugged. “That’s sort of what being a celebrity is, right?”
“Maybe,” I agreed.
“So I was thinking…” he began, “as an apology for making you pass out, maybe we could do brunch tomorrow? My treat? Sundays are one of the few days I have off.”
My heart hammered in my chest. Was Lucas Hart asking me on a date? He must have seen the war of emotion on my face because he continued, “If you don’t want to, I totally understand. I’d be pretty pissed if someone just kissed me while I was working.” His expression changed a moment. “Though that’s been known to happen.”
“Girls kiss you during shoots?”
“Sometimes. That’s why I feel bad. It’s always a stolen moment. They do it for a chance to boost themselves up on social media. Not because anyone ever directed it. Or even because they want to date.” He flushed. “Well, now I feel like a total tool.”
