“I don’t know if it is.” I lean over and scroll to the bottom of the article to see if anyone has commented.
“Almost two hundred people,” Finn says, reading the screen. “Is that normal for Buzzfeed?”
I stand up again. “It’s a lot. Sometimes things like this go viral, so if people are sharing it all over social media, then . . . that must be what happened. Plus, you’re number one on the list.”
“We’re number one.”
“That’s not my face at the top.”
“Hals.” His eyebrows draw together, his gorgeous lips turn down into a frown. “Honestly, I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. I assumed it was aboutourwork.”
My caption is included, but that’s obviously not what this article’s about. Professionally, this is huge for him, yet he looks unhappy. Because he’s worried how I’ll react to this? He shouldn’t be. I want his success probably more than he does. He deserves to have his moment.
“It is about us.” I bend down to kiss him. “They wouldn’t have picked you ifourwork sucked. And you know what?”
He watches my mouth. “Hmm?”
“I don’t need a Buzzfeed article to tell me how sexy you are, but it’s still pretty amazing they picked you. And you picked me, so I’m feeling good right now.”
He pulls my arm so I fall into his lap. “You’reamazing.”
“You know, there’s a lot of pressure on us now. Our next post has to be seriously good. None of that bobby pin bullshit.”
He grins. “It’s the onesie one.”
“The onesie one?”
He gestures over my body. “The leotard thing. That’s our next photo.”
I instinctively glance at the computer and Sadie pops into my mind. I said I was okay with what I saw, so I need to be. There isn’t enough room for both of us to be paranoid about past partners. He has more reason to be distrustful, even though I’d never pick Rich over him. Finn, on the other hand, hasn’t ever made me feel insecure about our relationship. “Right. The bodysuit. It’s good, but is it good enough as a first post for all those new followers? Let me see which caption you chose.”
He pinches my chin. “It’ll be perfect. Don’t worry.”
“But—”
“I’ll handle it, babe. I want you to enjoy this moment.”
“I am. Remember that day I said I wanted to hit ten thousand followers by mid-January? Before this article, we’d almost doubled it. Now we’re closing in on forty, and it’s barely February.”
“Is this you enjoying the moment?” he asks.
It is. Watching the numbers grow excites me. Knowing all those people are not just reading my words, but relating to them. Feeling them. I hate to admit that the thrill doesn’t end there. The article said it, and forty-thousand people agree, so it must be true: the photos are sexy. And they’re of me. I can’t wait to see what happens when we post the next series of Butter Boudoir images. Just as I’d suspected, they’re the most provocative yet. “I think with Valentine’s Day around the corner, we can double that number by March.”
He looks skeptical. “Eighty-thousand?”
“No. A hundred. Pick a day in March. We need a goal to keep us on track.”
“Jesus. That’s the population of a town.”
“We can do it, Finn. This is the kind of thing I was talking about. We can do more with more.”
He scratches his chin but nods. “Okay, but . . .” He runs his hand down my thigh. “Can you give me a teensy bit more motivation?”
“If we hit a hundred thousand by the date you pick in March . . . I’ll give you blowjobs until my jaw falls off.”
His eyes widen. “March first.”
I laugh. “Are you sure? Day one? You’re going to take that risk?”
