Chapter 42: Lucas: Mixed signals
IRIS WON’T stop staring. She has been glaring at
ever since the design team started dressing —Lynn included, although I must say, she hasn’t been acting strange ever since being assigned to attend to my upper wear.
In fact, she’s been avoiding .
When they were supposed to apply lotion on my back, I noticed her slip away from the range, letting the others do the work whilst she stood in the distance. I’m glad she has backed off and given
the space I’ve always wanted, but right now, I could use that little bit of attention to make Iris jealous.
She sits on one of the chairs next to the director, arms wrapped around together. Our eyes make contact and she shuffles, avoiding it so she can smile at the photographer and talk about sothing that I can’t hear over all the noise.
They’re done dressing
and applying lotion when the head photographer takes
to a red backdrop, positioning
on a stool and asking
to stay still for a mont as he rushes to talk to the sa guy Iris was ignoring
with a while ago.
Now that she has nowhere to avoid , our eyes et again. I gesture for her to co near . Fortunately, she obliges, walking lazily as though I’m the last thing she wanted to make contact with her this afternoon. Standing a few ters, she nods at .
"What do you want?"
"Did I do sothing wrong?" I ask, genuinely.
"No," Iris responds, but her voice is saying otherwise.
I look at the head photographer. He’s still talking to the guy from before. Taking my chances, I take Iris’ arm and pull her away from prying eyes behind the backdrop.
"What are you doing?" Iris whispers under her breath. "You want them to think we were doing sothing weird behind—" I pull her before she can finish, hugging her and planting my lips on her head.
Iris stills but doesn’t fight . I’m nearly shocked to death when she extends her hands and pulls
into a hug, squeezing my back so badly—I feel like she’ll strain so muscles there, or better yet, she might break my spine.
"What’s got you mad?" I ask once again.
She nuzzles in my chest, not bothering to look at
when she says: "Promise you won’t laugh when I tell you."
"I promise I won’t laugh," I reassure her even though the urge is starting to build up before she’s even said anything.
"I’m not mad, I’m just annoyed," Iris confesses.
My mind being the overturning gear it is imdiately links her frustration to Jerald, but I don’t say it. I rub her back. "It’s okay to be annoyed, but if it’s affecting your work, I think it’s better if you take a day off."
This ti Iris looks up at , eyes squinted. "You sure you don’t know why I’m annoyed?"
I shrug. "That’s why I’m asking."
Her hands unwrap around my back, palms landing on my chest before she pushes, hard. I still have my hands on her back, hugging her.
"I won’t let you go unless you tell
what’s wrong Iris."
But she won’t budge. She keeps pushing, a futile act that’s only straining her hands. She knows how strong I am. I can flip her over without groaning, and yet, she doesn’t want to acknowledge that fact, or she’s just ignoring it.
"Iris, tell
what’s wrong," I whisper.
"Let
go," she whispers back, angrily this ti.
I should give in and let her go but I don’t want to. I have a feeling letting her go now will escalate whatever she’s angry about. Gripping her a bit more tightly, I raise her a few centiters above ground, smiling to myself for the victory I just had. Iris struggles to wriggle herself free, but I have her plastered to my chest.
"What are you guys doing," cos a voice that startles the both of us.
I drop Iris and she lands on her two feet like a cat, adjusting her hair and looking away from the onlooker. I’m not surprised when I turn my head and see Lynn standing on one open end of the backdrop, scrunching her face as though we’re disgusting. I return the gesture and she stops.
Sighing, she backs away a little. "Look, I didn’t an to ruin your sweet mont, but everyone is looking for you Lucas. I’m not sure why they didn’t bother looking behind here even though you guys don’t seem like you’re trying to hide where you are shaking the paper sheet and all that—"
"Backdrop," I try hitting her with a cheap shot.
"Backdrop," Lynn corrects herself. "That’s not the point. We have so more work to be done and you’re wasting our ti doing stuff you’re supposed to have done this morning in your bedroom."
Ouch. I feel sothing tug my t-shirt, and when I glance at it, it’s Iris. She’s looking down, cheeks, ears, and the back of her neck red from embarrassnt. Thanks to Lynn, I just found out a new guilty pleasure—Iris blushing all over.
And when I say all over, I an all over.
"Ouch," I hiss when the tug soon turns to a pinch. Her nails are digging into my skin, softly at first and then a bit rough as she deepens the pinch.
"Iris, you’re hurting ," I try to keep my voice cool but fuck, her nails hurt.
She lets go of , turning on her heel and sashaying away but not before I notice the small smile tugging at her lips. Smiling to myself and shaking my head, I walk out with her.
The head photographer is sitting on the stool, hitting his knee with a rolled paper. When he sees
coming, he stands and gestures for
to sit, grabbing my stiff body and bending it at the right angles he wants for the pictures. And so the shoot begins.
★★★★★
Phew.
Models make it look so easy, but in reality, this shit is crazy. I can’t explain the movents I had to make just so we could co up with five pictures the head photographer and Iris approved for the magazine.
It took us the rest of the day to finish the shoot, and my muscles felt stiff. I need to go to the gym tomorrow.
Removing the shorts and slipping myself into my suit, I co out of the changing room, handing the clothes I’ve been wearing to the designer waiting for
by the door. I scan around for Iris, but she’s not where I left her a mont ago before changing.
Turning to face the designer who’s already walking away, he stops when I call out. "Have you seen Iris?"
Everybody knows who she is. The girlfriend of the CEO’s son. So when he shakes his head and shrugs, I know he didn’t. She slipped away.
Thanking him, I too slip away, rushing toward the elevator so I can catch up with her. But when I arrive monts later in our office, everybody is gone, and so is Iris. Her bag is nowhere to be seen. My eyes twitch.
Hah.
I take my bag and head for the car park, frustration building in
like a tornado.
I know she’s still mad and confused about what happened last night but this? She’s keeping
on edge, and away from her. How am I supposed to know what’s up with her if she keeps
at a safe distance and I have to walk on eggshells around her?
It’s getting old. I don’t like it.
Deciding to be more assertive once we et, I unlock my car from a few ters away. The beep of the door opening and the thud of it closing makes
freeze montarily, before I spring into action, sprinting toward my car.
I open the driver’s door, imdiately gripping the wheel and slamming my arm on the hijacker, keeping him on hold before I—
"You’re pinching my breasts, Lucas. It hurts."
Iris!
Imdiately letting her go, I pull away. "Sorry, I thought it was a thief. Wait here, I’ll get an ice pack for you."
"No, it’s fine. It’s my fault anyways, I should have told you I was going to wait for you at the car."
I ease up, looking at her. What was I doing thinking she had left ? We’re living together no damnit!
"Sorry," I mumble, drumming my fingers on the wheel.
Iris laughs. "Now I know why Lynn likes you so much. You’re good with the ladies."
"What do you an?" I ask scrunching my face.
"You apologize when you’re wrong, you know what to say when they’re sad and, well, you’re an eye candy. If we go deeper, you’re good in bed too."
Ohhhh.
My whole body heats up. "What are you trying to say, Iris?"
She smiles at , but it’s restrained. "That you’re too good for any woman. You need you a woman who loves you deeply with her whole everything. A woman like Lynn."
"Where is this coming from?"
"Nowhere. It’s just an observation. Let’s go ho," Iris responds, smile dropping as she turns to face the front.
And just like that, all my hopes and dreams have been crushed. I’ve been rejected before I’ve even confessed.
My phone chis and I take it out, giving Iris one last glance before looking at the ssages that are making it constantly vibrate. The last thing I expect to see is Jerald’s na on all ssages—and it’s a repetition of seven words only:
JERALD: Can we et at my pub tonight?
★★★★★
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