“Aren’t I?”
Ah. One drunk night flashes into my mind. “Yes. Feel special because I’m still talking to you and ignoring the fact that it might be awkward.”
Dennis snorts. “What do you want?”
“A photo book ASAP. You can randomize the images if you want, though they’re clustered in themes, so that’s preferable. If I had your book templates, I’d do it myself.”
“ASAP. You mean tomorrow?”
“No, I mean in a few hours.”
“Dylan.”
“Please,” I beg. “He leaves tomorrow. I want to give it to him tonight.”
“Asking your previous hookup to help you with a gift for your present hookup. That’s ballsy,” he deadpans.
“You’re such a drama queen. We were drunk, and it was one night. Do you honestly think you could handle me for more thanone night?” We both know I’m not referring to sex, though that should be thrown in too.
“You can pick it up at three,” he says. “Anything else, diva queen?”
“Yes, spread that name around. I like it.”
He snorts. “Later.”
Grinning. I close out of all of Larson’s pictures, though I’m tempted to make the fireworks one my background. I’m obsessed. I wonder if he’d allow me to use it as my phone background. No one else will see it there.
I spend a few hours going through the backlog of shoots, beginning with the set I’ve had the longest. Before I came to Kala and my clientele shifted from primarily women to a majority of men, I used to think having men in the studio was a novelty. It was a treat, especially because those on Kala weren’t so concerned with masculinity and shit.
We still get fragile masculinity sometimes, but I know how to deal with that here. Considering the fact that they’re here on Kala—a gay resort—I know that their toxicity comes from the pressures of society and trying to fit into a very specific mold to avoid confrontation and justlive.
It’s easy to break down their walls most of the time, and by the end, I not only have them feeling hot, confident, and happy, but they’re also far more comfortable showing a softer side and redefining what masculinity means. At least for a short period.
There’s a loud knock on the door that I barely hear. I nearly ignore it, but then realize it might be Larson. It’s dangerous bringing him in here because I’ll be tempted to take more hot pictures of him. He’s so willing. Open to any suggestions.
Still, I’m not going to make him hang around outside. That’s just weird.
My heart jumps when I see him smiling at me from the other side of the door. How in the world is he here for me?
I pull the lock back and push the door open. He steps inside, his arms immediately wrapping around my waist and pulling me up his body so he can kiss me. Fuck, a man can get used to this kind of greeting.
“Had a good workout?” I ask when he sets me back down. I’m not breathless, you are.
“Yep. You have a good gym here.”
“Were there other people in it?” I ask.
Larson laughs. “Lots.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
He laughs further. “Yes. Some people enjoy working out, you know.”
“That just can’t be true. Maybe they’re all like you and need to get back in shape for their sport.”
It’s clear that he finds me highly amusing. That’s okay. I don’t mind. However, I’m only reminded further that he’s leaving Kala tomorrow. It makes my stomach roll with dread.
“I’m almost finished with this set. Want to come in?”
