My pulse quickened at his tone, but before I could examine it too closely, a barista appeared in the background of his video, effectively ending our planning session.
“I should go,” Finn glanced around the coffee shop. “But this was good. Helpful.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, though I wasn’t entirely sure what we’d accomplished beyond confirming that we needed to take photos together. “I’ll text you some dates that work for me.”
“Looking forward to it,” the sincerity in his voice made me believe he actually meant it. “Now go home, you workaholic.”
After he signed off, I sat in my office staring at my reflection in the now-black laptop screen. The photo session was practical. Necessary for maintaining our arrangement. There was no reason why the thought of deliberately creating romantic images with Finn should make my hands feel unsteady.
But as I typed potential dates into my calendar, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was setting myself up for something that had very little to do with fooling our families and everything to do with testing how real I could make this look without admitting it’s what I wanted.
Finn arrived the morning before the family engagement party, stepping out of his rideshare with a small duffel bag and a hint of nervous energy. The sunlight reflected off his dark lenses, and I registered the deliberate way he’d dressed. Dark jeans, soft gray henley that emphasized his shoulders, worn leather boots, and hair pulled back to show the line of his jaw despite the beard.
“Ready for our debut as a photogenic couple?” He stepped inside, dropping a kiss on my cheek.
“I’ve been researching optimal lighting conditions,” I closed the door behind him. “Apparently golden hour really is a thing.”
He laughed, the sound filling my entryway and making the space feel more complete. “Dom would be so proud.”
I’d spent the previous evening planning our route to Bell Canyon, mapping the short hike that would give us plenty of scenic backdrops without overwhelming Finn’s stamina or inducing my tendency to get bored on hikes. I’d already cleared my day, a luxury I rarely allowed myself, but the photo session felt important enough to justify.
“How’s your head today?” I asked as we loaded water bottles and some snacks into a small backpack. I’d chosen my outfit carefully. Navy blue ripstop leggings that moved like second skin, a soft high-neck tank in sage green layered under a linen shirt jacket I could tie around my waist when the sun climbed higher. My most comfortable hiking sneakers and a wide-brim woven sun hat completed the look. Practical enough for the trail, put-together enough for photos that could end up on social media.
“Great. Clear,” he adjusted the bag’s weight across his shoulders, testing. “My doctor finally prescribed preventative meds at my last check-up. Took the Catalyst episode to convince him I needed them. Weather’s perfect too, so I should be fine.”
The drive to the trailhead was filled with easy conversation about his flight, my work week, the logistics of the engagement party. Normal relationship talk that felt surprisingly unforced. When I pulled into the parking area, the sun was near its highest point in the sky.
The trail wound upward through scrub oak and wildflowers, the cool mountain air of May carrying the scent of sage and new growth. Finn moved carefully but steadily beside me, his breathing even despite the elevation gain. I cataloged details automatically; the way his left hand occasionally brushed againstmine as we walked, how he instinctively positioned himself on the uphill side when the path narrowed, how his eyes scanned the trail ahead even when he was telling me a story.
“Here,” I stopped at an overlook where the valley spread below us, mountains rising in blue-hazed layers toward the horizon. “This should work.”
I pulled out my phone and hesitated, the reason for our outing suddenly feeling less straightforward now that we were here, alone together in a place that looked genuinely romantic.
“So,” Finn pulled off his sunglasses and hooked them in the front of his shirt, “how do we do this without it being weird?”
“I have no idea,” I bit my lip. “I’ve never staged fake relationship photos before.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m quick at figuring things out,” he moved closer, lifting my hat and letting it hang by the straps behind me, before fixing the hair around my face. “What feels natural?”
Natural. The word lodged itself in my brain as I raised my phone, trying to frame us against the mountain backdrop. Through the screen, we looked like any other couple pausing to document a shared adventure, except for the measured space I was maintaining between our bodies. Finn’s smile looked slightly stiff rather than genuine.
“This looks forced,” I frowned, lowering the phone.
“Because it is forced,” Finn’s voice carried his dry humor I was starting to love. “Maybe we approach it differently. What would we be doing if we were here together and not thinking about photos?”
I considered this, looking out over the view. “Probably just... enjoying the view. Talking.”
“Then let’s do that,” he settled onto a flat rock, patting the space beside him. “Tell me something I don’t know about you yet.”
The simplicity of the suggestion disarmed me. I sat down, leaving less space between us this time, and felt my shoulders relax as the pressure eased.
“I used to draw,” I admitted after a moment of contemplation. “Landscapes like this. With alcohol markers, mostly since they were easy to carry and easy to blend.”
“Used to?”
“College and a little after. I was decent at it, but not great. Good enough for my friends and family to fawn over, not disciplined enough to make a living at it.” I gestured toward the valley below. “This light, though. I’d have loved trying to capture that color transition.”
Finn was quiet for a moment, following my gaze. “What stopped you?”
