Josh
I lean against the studio window, still drying my hair with a towel. I had just finished my workout, in addition to preparing ntally for the next photoshoot.
I hear footsteps behind and turn to see Hailey standing there with a coffee in each hand.
"Got you a coffee," she says, taking a long sip from her cup.
"An angel falling from heaven," I mutter.
Hailey rolls her eyes. "Right...are you ready for today’s shoot?"
I grin, reaching for the coffee. "With you behind the cara? Always."
She smirks, brushing a damp strand of hair away from my forehead. "You’re such a kiss-ass."
"Only for you," I say, taking a sip. It’s just the way I like it. She rembered. Of course she did.
Hailey walks over to the lightboard, flipping through the setup notes for the shoot. She looks focused, sharp, and completely in her elent.
"I was thinking," she starts, not looking up, "we try sothing different today."
"Oh?" I lean against the edge of the table, watching her. "Different how?"
She glances up, eyes glinting with sothing I can’t quite read. "Candid. Less posed, more motion. I want to capture sothing real."
I nod slowly. "You want raw."
"Exactly," she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Think you can handle that, pretty boy?"
I laugh, setting my coffee down. "I think I can manage. Just don’t fall in love with when I start looking too raw and vulnerable."
Her eyes flick over . "Too late," she murmurs, almost to herself.
My heart skips a beat, but before I can say anything, she’s already walking toward the door. "The car will be here in ten minutes," she says before disappearing.
I stare at the empty doorway for a beat, her words echoing in my head. Too late.
She said it so casually, like it slipped out. Like she didn’t even realize it landed like a grenade in my chest.
I run a hand through my still-damp hair, trying to settle the storm rising in . Does she an it? Or was it just banter?
The studio feels suddenly too quiet.
I glance at the ti—eight minutes now until the car arrives. I throw on a hoodie and grab my duffel, still thinking about that look in her eyes. It wasn’t teasing. It was soft. Like maybe she ant it. Like maybe she feels this too.
I head down to the curb where the car’s already waiting. Hailey is there, leaning against the back door, her cara bag slung over one shoulder, sunglasses on despite the cloudy sky.
When she sees , her lips curl into a smile.
"You ready to be your most vulnerable self in front of strangers?" she asks.
"Always," I reply, climbing in beside her. "As long as you’re behind the lens."
She smiles and slides into the car.
Hailey gazes out the window, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the strap of her cara bag. I watch her for a mont longer than I should.
She’s so beautiful.
"You okay?" she asks, catching staring.
I blink, then nod. "Yeah. Just thinking."
Her lips twitch. "Dangerous."
I chuckle. "You have no idea."
She tilts her head, resting her cheek against the cool glass. "I do, actually."
Her voice is soft again, and sothing tightens in my chest. I almost ask her...what did you an earlier? Too late for what?—but I don’t. Not yet. Because this isn’t the mont. Not with the driver up front and a full shoot ahead of us.
I follow her into the studio.
"Ah, Hailey and Josh. You made it just in ti," Marcus declares, looking a bit too cheerful.
I feel my muscles tense at the sight of Marcus. After what Hailey told about his inappropriate proposition at the club, every instinct I have screams to keep him away from her.
"Marcus," I say curtly, stepping slightly closer to Hailey.
He notices, of course. His eyes flick between us with that calculating look I’ve co to despise. "I have a surprise for you both today. A special guest who’ll be joining our shoot."
Hailey frowns. "A guest? That wasn’t in the brief."
"Last-minute addition," Marcus says smoothly. "Soone I think will add an interesting dynamic to the session."
Before either of us can respond, the studio doors swing open. A woman walks in—blonde, perfectly styled, wearing a dress that probably costs more than most people’s rent. She’s beautiful in that polished, Instagram-ready way that feels almost artificial.
My blood turns to ice.
"Riley?" I breathe.
Riley eks turns toward my voice, her face lighting up with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "Josh! Oh my god, hi!"
Hailey’s head whips toward , confusion written across her features. "You know her?"
"Riley’s an influencer from LA," Marcus interjects before I can answer. "She’ll be modeling alongside Josh today. Creating so... chemistry for the campaign."
The way he says "chemistry" makes my skin crawl. This is deliberate. Calculated. He’s playing gas, and sohow Riley is his pawn.
"Josh and I have history," Riley says, sauntering over with that practiced runway walk. "Don’t we, babe?"
The pet na hits like a slap. Hailey’s face goes carefully blank—the expression she wears when she’s trying not to show how much sothing affects her.
"Riley," I say tightly. "What are you doing here?"
She laughs, light and airy. "Marcus reached out to . Said he had the perfect opportunity for . When I heard you were involved..." She shrugs, letting the implication hang.
I catch Marcus watching our exchange with barely concealed satisfaction. This bastard orchestrated this entire thing.
"Well," Hailey says, her voice professionally neutral, "I guess we should get started then."
She turns away, busying herself with her equipnt, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. The way her movents are just a little too sharp, a little too controlled.
Riley moves closer to , her hand landing on my arm. "It’s so good to see you, Josh. You look amazing. Modeling suits you."
"Riley—"
"I’ve missed you," she continues, her voice dropping to that intimate tone I rember too well. "Maybe we can catch up after the shoot? For old ti’s sake?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hailey’s jaw tighten. She’s pretending not to listen, but I know she heard everything.
"That’s great," I say flatly.
I glance toward Hailey. She’s behind the cara now, adjusting her lens, checking the light, doing everything but looking at . Or Riley. Her posture is still stiff, her fingers moving faster than usual, as if staying busy might stop her from walking out the door.
"Josh, co over here," Hailey calls, her voice cool and clipped.
I move to her.
"Who is she?" Hailey hisses.
I glance at Riley, still posing like this is her runway coback, and then back at Hailey. Her eyes are locked on mine now, no longer hiding the hurt behind the cara.
"She’s..." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "We dated. A while ago. Briefly."
"Briefly?" Hailey echoes, her mouth a hard line. "She called you babe."
"That ended a long ti ago," I say, keeping my voice low. "We haven’t talked in years. She ghosted after saying she needed to be single to launch her social dia career. And now she’s suddenly here. This isn’t a coincidence, Hailey. This is Marcus trying to stir shit."
Her jaw clenches. "Well, congratulations. It’s working."
I take a step closer, lowering my voice further. "Don’t do that. Don’t shut down on ."
She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes flicker. I see the storm building behind them.
"I’m not with her," I say, firm now. "And I don’t want to be."
"Marcas is such a douche," she mumbles.
I can’t help but smile at that comnt. "Yeah," I mutter.
Hailey’s eyes flick past toward Riley, then back. "And what about her? You think she’s just along for the ride?"
I shake my head. "I don’t think she knows that Marcus is using her. She hasn’t always been...um...sharpest tool in the shed."
"Josh! That’s not very nice," Hailey retorts, but her lips curl into a small smile.
I shrug, the corner of my mouth lifting. "I’m just being honest. Riley’s always had this... selective awareness thing going on. She’s more focused on how things look than how they are."
Hailey rolls her eyes, but so of the tension lts from her shoulders. "Still. She looks very excited to see you."
"She is a pawn in Marcus’s ga of seduction. Too bad he is not going to win," I declare.
"I am not a prize," Hailey snaps.
"No, but you are precious," I say as I lean down to kiss her forehead.
Hailey blushes. "Let’s just get through this shoot," she says and hurries off.
I glance over at Riley, who’s now chatting with the makeup artist, clearly enjoying the attention, oblivious.
This should be fun.
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