Ivy laughed from behind her clipboard, shaking her head. Even Marla’s mouth twitched like she was fighting a smirk. Quinn took it as a challenge and struck a pose that earned him a few chuckles from the social crew.
“You’re dangerous,” Jordan called from the corner. “I like her.”
“Get in line,” Quinn said, grinning at him through the mirror. His tone was joking, but I still didn’t like it.
Em ignored both of them, measuring and pinning like she had all the control—and she did. “Chest thirty-nine,” she said, eyes flicking to Ivy. “Biceps twenty-one, but check that after hydration. These guys love to inflate their numbers.”
“Facts,” Ivy said, jotting the numbers down, and Quinn made a mock-offended noise.
“Cold-blooded,” he said, hand on his chest.
“Truthful,” Em countered, biting her bottom lip slightly while she marked the hem with chalk. The move was instinctive, small, but I felt it anyway. She worked with a rhythm that made the room revolve around her.
Jordan stepped up next, tugging the cropped hoodie over his head. “This thing is comfortable,” he said, flexing automatically. “You sure it’s supposed to fit like this?”
“Keep that energy,” Em said, “but don’t break the zipper.” She crouched to fix the hem, her hair falling over her shoulder, the movement causing the clean scent of her shampoo to cut through the air. She pinned quickly, double-tapped her tablet when she finished, and stood.
That was her other quirk—she always tapped twice after logging something. I’d seen her do it at the kitchen table too, and the gesture was weirdly endearing. Like her brain was signing off with a period.
Jordan twisted at the waist and grinned down at her. “I think this is the first time I’ve had someone this cute yell at me about fabric,” he said. “Can I request you for all fittings?”
“No,” Em said flatly, straightening. “You can request a zipper repair if you break this one.”
The room chuckled again. Even Marla let out a quiet laugh before she cleared her throat. “All right, gentlemen, content in ten. Jordan, Quinn, thank you for not breaking anything. Em, excellent work.”
“Thank you,” Em said, tucking her tape back onto her waistband. “We’re in good shape for next week’s shoot.” She smiled, but it wasn’t forced—it was proud.
God, I loved seeing her be proud of herself.
Marla turned to Ivy, her tone brisk again. “Make sure legal sends the content release by end of day. And Ivy, tell your player here to keep his helmet on during walkthrough so the cameras have something to cover his face with.”
Ivy grinned and scribbled something down. “Copy that, Marla,” she said, still smirking at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him camera-safe. Let’s go, boys. Back to it.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I said.
Quinn and Jordan cleared out, their shit-talking each other echoing down the hall until it disappeared. The second the door shut, the room quieted. The air shifted again, slower now, thicker. It was just me, Em, Ivy, and the scent of fabric starch and coffee.
Em moved around me, collecting the last pins from the floor. She crouched to grab one that rolled near my shoe, brushing my ankle with the back of her hand. The movement wasn’t intentional, but my pulse didn’t seem to care. She straightened and turned toward me, the light from the window catching her hair just right—warm gold against dark silk.
“I still need to see how this one moves,” she said, reaching for the tape that hung around her neck. “Arms up.”
I obeyed, my breath shallow. She stepped in close, close enough that the faint citrus of her shampoo and something softer—vanilla maybe—hit me in waves. Her wrist brushed my ribs as she measured. My shirt lifted an inch, and her fingers grazed my skin.
“Sorry,” she murmured, eyes still on the tape. Her voice had softened, a half-octave lower than before. “I forget how massive you are, Noah.”
“Same height,” I said, my throat tight. “You just haven’t been this close in a while.”
“Is that so?”
I sucked in a breath, letting my gaze drop to her mouth for just a second. Her lips were so full, so pink. The familiar thrum of desire coursed through me, as it always had for Em. I arched a brow, letting my voice drop. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Never.” That earned me a glance. It was brief but sharp, andthen she stepped back, letting the tape fall against her collarbone. She double-tapped her tablet before slipping the tape into her pocket. Her lips parted like she was going to say something, but the words never came.
Ivy’s phone buzzed across the table, breaking the moment. “All right, you two,” she said without looking up, her voice dry. “Content’s waiting.”
Em’s cheeks flushed instantly. “I’m coming,” she said quickly, tucking her tablet under her arm. She brushed past me to grab her tote, her shoulder grazing my chest.
She didn’t notice what it did to me. The heat, the scent of her perfume, the soft press of her movement all stayed long after she slipped through the door.
