Diana laughs behind the camera. “You two are adorable. Okay, let’s try something different. Sit on the couch. Get comfortable.”
We move to the leather couch they’ve positioned nearby. Bailey sits first. I settle beside her, close enough that our thighs touch.
“Bailey, tuck your feet up. Daniel, put your arm around her shoulders. Like you’re watching a movie on a Sunday night.”
I do as instructed. She curls into my side naturally. Her head fits perfectly in the space between my shoulder and my jaw.
“Tell me something true,” I say quietly.
“What?”
“Something true. Something you’ve never told anyone.”
She’s silent for a long moment. “I’m scared this is going to end badly.”
“This photoshoot?”
“This arrangement. Us. Everything.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Really? You always seem so controlled. Like nothing scares you.”
“Everything scares me. I’m just good at hiding it.”
She tilts her head to look at me. “What are you scared of?”
“Letting people in. You.”
“I’m scared of you, too,” she whispers.
“Good. We can be scared together.”
Diana snaps several shots in rapid succession. “Perfect. The chemistry is incredible. Just a few more setups and we’re done.”
The next twenty minutes blur together. We pose by the window and against the desk, then we stand close with our hands intertwined. Every position is harder than the last.
Bailey’s perfume surrounds me with every breath. Her warmth seeps through my clothes where our bodies press together. The easy way she leans into me feels natural. Right.
When Diana positions us by the window with the light streaming through, she tells Bailey to rest her hand on my chest. Bailey does so, and I feel the contact everywhere.
“Perfect. Don’t move,” Diana calls.
And I realize I don’t want to move. I don’t want this moment to end. I don’t want Bailey to step away and remember we’re supposed to be pretending.
I want to stay frozen in this exact moment, where she’s touching me and looking at me, and the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
“That’s a wrap,” Diana announces. “These are going to be stunning. The article should run next month.”
Bailey steps back immediately. The loss of contact jolts as cold air rushes in where her warmth had been.
“Thank you,” she says to Diana with her professional smile back in place.
“My pleasure. You two are naturals.”
If she only knew.
We collect our things in silence. The elevator ride down to our floor is quiet, the space humming between us with tension. Bailey’s shoulder brushes my arm as we walk, and once again, the brief contact sends electricity shooting through me. I feel it in my fingertips, in my chest, in places that have no business reacting to such an innocent touch.
