She launches herself into my arms with a squeal, and I don’t even have to anticipate how I’ll catch her. Don’t have to think twice about where she’ll fit.
She peppers kisses against my cheek before either of us register what she’s doing.
Her eyes blow wide as she freezes. “Sorry. I was just?—”
“I know,” I chuckle. “Don’t worry about it.”
She slides against my body to the ground, then takes off running.
I jog to keep up with her, catching the door as the bell jingles above us.
The employees soon mirror Kate’s enthusiasm, excited to be hosting someone so experienced for the next hour. It doesn’t take long before Kate is equipped with one of their cameras and a ten minute timeframe. We leave our drivers licenses as collateral before they turn us free on the town to snap a few photos.
“Ohmygosh. Hang on,” Kate exclaims, tugging me to a stopbeneath an awning. She sweeps her sunglasses over her hair and beams up at me, looking more like the girl I met in college with every passing second.
“Give me two minutes, okay?”
“I’ll even give you three.” I wink.
She rolls her eyes with a grin, then carefully darts to the other side of the street.
I see what she’s aiming for, now. A myriad of umbrellas hang strung in the air between two shops. The rows of umbrellas form a sort of shade roof, bright coastal colors foregrounding the azure sky. I’m rooted in place as I watch Kate come alive.
I can’t see through her viewfinder from here, but I don’t need to in order to tell the photos will be spectacular. It’s in the angled crook of her elbow, how she alternates her stance to line up her shots. I’ve never paid much attention to umbrellas, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to look at them the same again. Not after I’ve seen them through Kate’s perspective.
Kate skips back to me with a radiant flush to her cheeks.
Before I know it, I’m bending to press a soft kiss to one of them. It wasn’t an urge. It was a need. An exuberance of life that Ihadto taste for myself.
Kate’s cheek flushes brighter as I pull away, but she doesn’t look mad. If anything, her eyes seem shinier as they flick to my mouth and back again.
And I swear, if she was mine,reallymine, I’d kiss her senseless right here and now—tourists be damned. I see my conflict mirrored in her expression.
“Would you two lovebirds like a photo of yourselves?” An older lady with wrinkled apples for cheeks smiles at the two of us, a visor-clad husband beside her.
Our laughs are awkward and stilted, but neither of us has the heart to tell her no.
The woman takes the camera before Kate’s palm works its way to the center of my chest. My arm wraps above the swell of her hips, and I fight to hide the fact that every inch of her body pressed to mine feels like pure agony.
I wonder if she can feel the drum of my heart giving me away beneath her hand.
The camera clicks, and the sunny old couple then goes on their way. Our ten minute timer beeps, letting us know the allotted picture-taking time is up.
Kate clears her throat, waving the camera. “Ready to go develop these bad boys?”
“So ready.”
Ironically, the darkroom studio isn’t dark at all. Plain old fluorescent lights illuminate the square room. A tall machine sits perched on one of the counters beside a line of trays and graduated cylinders. Bottles of white-labeled chemicals stand beside a slew of odd-looking instruments.
But Kate roves the room with intention, chatting animatedly with one of the workers. She knows this space and isn’t shy to make it known.
And it’s hot.
The worker provides us both with a set of protective gloves and safety glasses before deeming Kate proficient enough to handle this on her own. Granted, we both signed our livelihood and eyesight away before they even let us close to the equipment.
I slide my protective glasses on while giving Kate a come-hither stare, and she laughs.
“Sosexy,” she says. “How do you keep the women off you?”
