I’ve given this a lot of thought. Finn isn’t just getting recognition for his work. Since last month, girls have started requestinghim, the sexy photographer. I know he’s seen it, even if he hasn’t mentioned anything. “There’s only one photo of you. The one in the suit.”
He shakes his head. “I’m behind the camera, not in front.”
“They want more of you, babe. You’re the one bringing in all these people.”
“Me?” He laughs. “If you think that, you’re even more modest than I thought. This account is all about you. Fuck. You got a marriage proposal the other day.”
I try not to smile but fail epically. “I did?”
“It’s in the messages.”
I’ve been avoiding those, but now I’m tempted to look. “Well, yes, I have fans too, but they’ve seen so much of me. All of me. But you? Or evenus, together? That picture you took while unbuttoning my collar from behind—they love that one.” I put my bottle down and go to him, touching the hem of his t-shirt. My fingers are wet from condensation, and they leave a damp spot. “Ilove that one.”
“We did that in the heat of the moment. It was a quick, easy shot. I can’t do a whole session that way, setting up the camera and then posing for the timer.”
“Then let’s hire someone.”
He slow-blinks. “To take the photos? Are you kidding? I’m the fuckingphotographer. This ismywork.”
“No, no, no.” I flatten my hands on his chest and lean into him. “I wasn’t saying that at all. I mean we can hire another model. If we don’t shoot his face, they won’t know it’s not you. Or maybe they will, but just having something fresh will revive us.”
“Reviveus? We just had a marathon month.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Not really.”
“He and I would pose together, and you’d direct us. You’d have complete control.”
“You want someone else’s hands on you,” he deadpans.
“It’s just business, babe. You can even pick the model, I don’t care who he is.”
“I’m not going to pick a man to—” His chest expands with a breath. “I don’t even . . . is this about yesterday?”
I have the urge to pull away, but I don’t. I don’t want this to turn into a fight. “What about yesterday?” I ask.
“Youknowwhat, Halston.”
I drop my eyes to his chest. Finn was commissioned, for a lot of money, to shoot a local socialite’s boudoir session for her fiancé. If that’s not bad enough, she was made famous by stealing that fiancé from her best friend. I would’ve let him do it, but he accepted without consulting with me. “It’s not about that.”
“I told you, you have nothing to worry about. I’ve literally not thought about another woman since I met you.” He lifts my chin by his knuckle. “The money I make is ours, not mine. Come to the shoot with me. You can be the director.”
“I’ve heard she’s dumb, but I’m sure she’s not that dense. She’ll know who I am,” I point out.
He frowns. “Do you want me to cancel it?”
I’m not worried about her. I’m anxious about what this means for us. Finn’s website is getting traffic now. My designer did a great job. It even has a Press section, and there are more than a couple articles in it. Me? I have nothing. Even though Finn mentions me in every interview, there’s no website with my name on it.
If Finn starts taking other jobs and shooting less for our account, what does that mean for me? What do I even have, professionally speaking, without this? I never even dared to fantasize that one day, I might write for living, until Finn came along. But the truth is, that dream is smoke and mirrors. I haven’t actually written anything in months, nothing worth sharing, at least. What if this is it for me, but for Finn, it’s just the beginning?
“Don’t cancel it,” I say. No matter how low I feel, I would never ask Finn to jeopardize his success for me. “I trust you, and this isn’t about her—it’s about us.”
He rubs his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “Tell me more about that.”
“I want more for us. I want to quit my job and be with you all the time.” At the beginning of our relationship, I might’ve been embarrassed to admit that, but now? I know Finn loves hearing my stalker-ish thoughts.
He steps even closer to me, running a hand down to the seat of my overalls. He pulls me against him. “All the time, huh? And you’re not worried about the ramifications of hourly sex?”
