I arch an eyebrow at him. “Theramifications?”
He shifts, pinning my hips to the counter with his. “You’ll have to help me with these overalls . . . unless there’s some secret flap down there for easy access.”
I get a coat of goosebumps but try to focus on the task at hand. “Imagine it,” I tell him. “You don’t have to take any more shit jobs photographing spoiled brats. I don’t have to leave our bed at seven in the morning.” I slip my hand into the waist of his jeans, trailing my finger along his hip. His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “We sleep in. We shoot a new photo or two every day. I sit at the window and write while you edit. We cook breakfast . . . fordinner.”
He groans.
Without bothering to undo his pants, I squeeze my hand into his underwear and take him in my fist. “We make love whenever, wherever. That’s our life. If we can build this business even bigger.”
Finn assaults my mouth with a hungry kiss.
I have my answer. He wants me, he chooses me—for now. If I can bring new life into our work, I’ll buy myself a little more time. As long as our follower count goes up, so does Finn’s career. But I’ll still be here where I started. If I don’t find a way to keep up, I risk getting left behind.
28
It’s not until I’ve hung up my jacket and emptied my pockets in the foyer that I hear voices. Specifically, one voice. And it’s much too deep to be Halston’s. I head to the studio.
Halston swivels in my office chair when I enter. She brightens with a smile. “There you are.”
I put down my camera bag. “I thought we were doing this at seven.”
“No, I told you six.” She comes over to me, links an arm around my waist, and gestures to the couch. “Finn, this is Ken.”
Ken King—supposedly his real name—sets a steaming mug on the side table and stands to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m looking forward to this.”
Looking forward to touching my girlfriend—I’m sure he is. Halston found him on Facebook, a friend of a friend and a working model with a similar build to mine. He’s even got some light brown scruff. I touch my jaw and look down at Halston. “Can I talk to you?”
“Sure.” Her breath smells like coffee. She smiles at Ken. “Excuse us.”
I lead her out with a hand on her upper back, shooting Ken a glance on the way. I close the studio door once we’re in the hallway. “He’s been here since six?”
“Just about.”
“And you let him in? You should’ve waited for me.”
“He would’ve been standing in the hall for half an hour.”
“I don’t care. He’s a stranger, and you were alone in the apartment with him. Not just a stranger, but one who knows he’s here to take provocative photos with you.”
“Finn.”
I don’t care that she did the same thing with me. Or that Ken is supposedly a nice guy who regularly poses for NYU’s art department. Or that Halston trusts the friend who recommended him. I’ve been trying, and failing, to wrap my head around this for days. When Halston suggested another model, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but I’m the one encouraging her to be in control of her life. This project is more important to her than I ever imagined it would be.
Now that he’s here, I want to call it off. He’s ripped. Handsome, in an obvious sort of way. I guess he would be, since he’s a model. I’ve been trying not to wonder whether bringing a third person into the apartment has anything to do with what I read in her “dark” journal. “I’m serious, Hals. You should’ve waited for me.”
“Finn, he’s gay.” She arches an eyebrow at me. “He was telling me about a trip to Barcelona with his boyfriend when you came in.”
It’s then that I realize my shoulders are at my ears. I lower them. This night just did a one-eighty. Though I’m relieved, I try to play it cool. “Still. You didn’t know that when you let him in.”
She half rolls her eyes. “He already signed the release.”
“And the NDA?”
She folds her arms behind her back. “Not yet. I thought it felt a little extreme.”
“That’s why I was supposed to meet him first. Now, he knows who you are without any reason to stay quiet.”
“Is thatsobad?” she asks quietly.
