Chapter 3 - Callie #2
“And is this as weird for you as it is for me?” The deadpan words pop out of my mouth before I have a chance to catch them.
“I mean . . . not that you’re weird or anything, it’s just this whole situation is weird and .
. . like who goes a blind date like this?
We’ve could’ve just gone for burgers or something, but we’re here and my cousin is taking pictures of us and it’s kinda weird that she’s doing that, and now I’m rambling because I called you weird, but not you per se, and oh my god, I need to stop because I’m just making things worse, aren’t I .
. . ” I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down hard to keep anything else from spilling out.
Jensen’s mouth twists into an adorable half-smile. “No, I get what you’re saying. This is definitely the most unconventional date I’ve ever been on.” He shoves both of his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
He seems a little shy, and there’s a quiet seriousness about him that I find really endearing. Adam was always putting on a show, always had to be the focus of any room, but Jensen doesn’t seem like that at all. And when he gives me another tentative smile, my nerves settle even more.
Mabel takes a few shots of us as we walk to a new spot she points out and then positions us in a few poses that I can only assume are the warm-up poses.
One with Jensen’s arm around my shoulder, another with us sitting next to each other on an old picnic table, and a few more simple poses that feel very low pressure.
Jensen and I move around each other politely, following Mabel’s directions, but I find myself sneaking glances at him. I swear I can feel his eyes on me, too.
“Ah, this is already so great!” Mabel squeaks from beside me as we take a short break.
“You guys are naturals.” She flips her camera around to show us one of the frames in which she’s captured my laughter and Jensen’s wide smile.
The glowing morning light in the background makes the focus on our faces even more prominent. It’s stunning.
“Wow,” I lean closer to the display screen. “Mabs, it’s stunning.”
“Thanks!” She beams. “But, we’re just getting started. Are you guys ready? ”
I know what she’s asking. The whole purpose of this shoot is to capture our chemistry, to put us into close, intimate positions like she would a real couple in love. No one wants to see pictures of us just talking or making jokes.
I’m still nervous, but Jensen gives a confident nod that makes the rest of the tension in my shoulders disappear, so I nod too. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
Mabel leads us closer to the river and positions us facing one another. I have to tilt my chin up to look him fully in the face, he’s so tall. He must stand at least a foot if not more over my 5’3 frame.
“Callie, can you place your right hand on Jensen’s chest?”
I reach out, my fingertips meeting soft cotton and a wall of hardened muscle beneath it. He’s as solid as an oak tree.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, realizing I just poked him in the stomach. I glide my hand upward until I feel the gentle thud of his heartbeat beneath my palm.
“Good, now, Jensen, will you put your hand on her waist?”
There’s a light touch as his fingers brush against the bare skin of my arm.
He finds my waist and when he wraps his hand around me, the weight that’s been sitting on my chest ever since my horrible break-up lightens.
It makes no sense, but there’s a surety in his touch that relaxes me, makes me not only feel comfortable, but safe.
What is happening right now? A tiny voice whispers in my mind. But I don’t have an answer.
“Can you guys move toward each other just an inch or two?”
We follow Mabel’s instructions, our toes bumping into one another which makes us both laugh. “Yes! Now, lean toward each other. Get close. Don’t be afraid to get into each other’s space. If it feels weird then that means you’re doing it right.”
I roll my eyes at my cousin, but do as she says, leaning into Jensen. My nose nearly skims the fabric of his shirt, and he smells so incredibly good I almost let out a laugh. Definitely no hotdog water here.
Jensen leans down, bringing his face closer to mine, and I instinctively tilt my chin up and to the side to make room.
The hand on my waist tightens and Jensen’s other hand finds the small of my back. He pulls me in, and I wrap the hand that isn’t pressed against his chest lightly around the back of his neck.
“Is this okay?” he whispers, his brows lifting.
Even though we both agreed to this, I appreciate that he’s asking, making sure I’m okay before we proceed to the “act like you’re in love” part of the photoshoot.
“Yes,” I whisper back, my fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck.
Jensen's lips brush against the shell of my ear and my skin immediately heats. A nervous giggle bubbles up in my throat. I try to swallow it, but instead it comes out as a snort.
Jensen pulls his head back a little bit, his eyes finding mine. “Did you just snort?”
“Yeah . . . sorry, I’m a little ticklish.”
“Me too, but don’t tell anyone. Can’t have everyone knowing my weakness.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I promise, nearly melting into a puddle on the grass when the corners of his mouth lift and an easy smile emerges.
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear but the wind near the water has picked up and almost immediately the same strand flies free again, unwilling to stay put.
“I got it,” Jensen says, chuckling at the way my nose has scrunched in frustration. He reaches for the strand, trapping it between his fingers and then carefully placing it behind my ear, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek.
He hesitates slightly, not pulling his hand back, but instead trailing his fingers down to cup my neck. The feather-light touch heats my skin and as I lean into it, the realization that I don’t want him to stop touching me slams into me hard.
What is happening right now? The voice in my head demands again, a little louder this time, but I shove the thought aside. A lump rises in my throat as this man’s gentle touch makes my battered and bruised heart beat in a way I’d long forgotten. A way I’d sworn I no longer wanted or needed.
His eyes find mine, a slight worry in them, which I try to smooth away by reaching up to grasp the wrist that’s holding me. For a moment, something else flickers in the depths of those ocean blues, so deep I swear I could drown in them. It’s surprise and . . . sadness, maybe?
Jensen slowly lifts his other hand, his fingertips sending tingles down my back as he touches me. And when he gently leans down, pressing his forehead against mine, I can’t move or breathe. I don’t want to.
Yes!” Mabel practically squeals with delight. “Oh my gosh whatever you do, don’t move.”
I couldn’t if I tried.