Hunter let out a low laugh, the kind that was more amused than mocking, and I noticed how different he looked outside the glare of competition. Less guarded, less tense, more… human. I’d caught a glimpse the night of the gala, but it was only a glimpse. He had a role to play then too.
Mason groaned. “I can’t feel my quads.”
“I can’t feel my dignity,” Grayson chuckled, and the otherscommiserated with him wholeheartedly.
I shook my head, fighting back a small smirk of my own. It was hard to maintain total distance and control when he looked like that. I had to remind myself it was my job, standing here watching him this closely. My responsibility. Nothing more.
The shoot went on, and I couldn’t stop noticing the details. The way his hair had mussed slightly from constant primping between sets, the subtle shift in posture when he thought no one was watching, the way his focus sharpened even under the pretense of casualness. There was more to him than the public persona, more than the bluster and banter.
And today, I saw more of that than ever. Literally.
“Seriously, Mason, did you just move his cube with your knee?” I asked, trying to sound professional but flailing inwardly.
“Accident,” Mason said with a grin that clearly meant the opposite. “Artistic liberty.”
Hunter’s eyes flicked to me, that little edge of amusement in his gaze, and I immediately felt my cheeks warm. My tablet was the only saving grace, giving me something to stare at that wasn’t over six feet tall and ripped like a god from another realm.
Grayson snorted during one of their resets. “Holly, you’re sweating. Need us to turn down the heat?”
“I’m fine.”
Hunter’s smirk grew, and he studied me closely. “Sure you are.”
I tried to regain control, and squared my shoulders. “You guys should be focusing on the shoot. Not me.”
“Perks of the job, huh?” Mason winked. “Surrounded by naked hockey players and you get to call it a day at the office.”
“Someone’s got to do it,” I shot back with a smirk that was in no way related to how I actually felt.
Grayson risked letting go of his cube with one hand to wave meover. “It’s only fair you strip down and join. For solidarity’s sake.”
They sniggered, but Hunter remained stone-faced. “Could you guys shut up so we can get this over with?”
He shifted slightly and my stomach flipped when the small movement revealed more than it was supposed to. I just happened to be standing at the right angle to catch an eyeful of his– Of everything.
“Uh, Hunter, you’re flashing me,” the photographer said, cool and calm. Like this happened all the time.
The guys lost it as Hunter quickly fixed his cube, a pink flush creeping all the way up his neck. I couldn’t look away in time, mostly because my eyes were glued to his crotch, and when his gaze snapped to mine, I could’ve sworn I spotted the hint of a challenge glinting there.
A challenge to what, I wasn’t sure. Nothing about his expression gave anything else away, and even less when he pulled the cube back into place.
“Oh, shit.” Mason was beside himself. “Callahan, I think you broke PR.”
“Stop calling her that,” he snapped, then turned to me with a crooked smile. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, I just… I, uh…”
I took a step toward the back of the studio, pretending to check the lighting while desperately trying to stop my pulse from racing. My face was hot, my thoughts scrambled.
He chuckled under his breath, loud enough that I heard it. Iglanced back, and my pulse jumped again. The other guys were laughing too, clearly enjoying the show, but it wasn’t their laughter that had me distracted—it was him. Just him.
“Don’t sweat it, Holly.” Grayson emphasized my name for Hunter’s sake, I guess. “We’ll be dressed soon enough and you can get your composure back.”
I shot them a withering look but my knees felt just a touch weak. Hunter noticed it too, because there was no hiding the smirk on his face.
The photographer called for one final pose, and I took my chance.
“Gotta make a call,” I murmured to no one in particular, and hurried to the door without looking back.
