Chapter 25
Pepper
Sunday had been, without a single doubt, the most insanely beautiful blur of my entire life.
After the fire we set in my darkroom on Saturday night, I didn't think my heart could handle any more capacity for Aaron Fields. Replaying every detail of the night left me completely lightheaded all over again.
The collision of our lips was pure, unadulterated hunger.
His large palms cupped my jawline, pulling me into a kiss so deep and breathless that my knees instantly gave out.
In one fluid, effortless lift, his hands were under my thighs, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the leather sofa.
The sheer sensation of his chiseled chest pressing down against mine as our clothes were discarded in the ruby light sent a violent shiver straight down my spine.
When his full lips left my mouth to rain feverish kisses down my neck and bury his face between my exposed breasts, a helpless moan escaped my throat.
But it was his absolute reverence for me that permanently shattered my control.
When I slid my hands down his waistband, he actually paused, his breathing ragged against my skin as he asked if I was sure.
Most guys would have taken the opportunity without a second thought, but Aaron wanting me fully present and right in my mind only made him a thousand times hotter.
I pulled him back down for a kiss to give him my answer.
What followed was an experience that felt entirely separate from the rest of the world.
In the quiet of the darkroom, under the steady glow of the red lights, every touch felt amplified and every look felt like a confession.
We lost track of time in that studio, the boundaries between us dissolving until there was nothing left but the raw, honest connection we had been dancing around for weeks.
It was passionate and intense, but more than that, it was a moment where the rigid professional barriers Aaron usually kept so high finally crumbled.
We stayed in that space for hours, existing in a bubble of our own making, completely oblivious to the outside world until the first hints of dawn began to creep in.
He dropped me off at the Airbnb early Sunday morning, but he didn't stay away for long.
He drove home, showered, changed, and came right back to pick me up for a spontaneous day of brunch and a movie.
We spent the entire day laughing, holding hands over the center console, and just completely existing in each other's world.
For twenty-four hours, the looming shadow of work or Tokyo didn't exist. The expiration date didn't exist. There was only him.
But by Monday morning, reality came knocking right on schedule. It was time to get back to work.
Aaron and I pulled up to Leo’s on 3rd at the same time, at seven sharp, our cars parking side-by-side in the quiet dawn. The lifestyle segment shoot was officially underway, and the cozy, hipster lounge was already a bustling hub of production assistants, rolling gear racks, and wardrobe stylists.
But the second we pushed through the heavy wooden front doors, the warm, cozy atmosphere instantly froze. Standing near the open espresso bar, holding a sharp tablet and looking entirely unamused, was Elena.
"Aaron. Pepper. In the back booth, please," she said, her corporate tone clipped and completely serious. "We need to talk."
My stomach did a violent, sudden drop. Aaron and I exchanged a tense glance, sliding into the leather booth across from her.
Elena didn't waste a single second. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the dark wood.
"I was at the Apollos game on Saturday. And so were several members of our marketing board.
I saw the Jumbotron. I saw the Kiss Cam.
" She paused, her eyes cutting sharply between the two of us.
"Jolt hired you both because you are powerhouses, but I am deeply concerned that your personal...
distractions... are going to compromise the collaboration of this campaign.
If this relationship interferes with our deadlines, the board will freeze the funding before the morning is out. "
A heavy, suffocating silence blanketed the booth. Panic fluttered against my ribs, my mouth parting to defend us.
But before I could even utter a syllable, Aaron spoke up on both our behalves.
"Elena, you don't need to worry," Aaron said, his deep voice completely smooth, level, and entirely businesslike.
He didn't even blink as he delivered the words.
"The Jumbotron was just a silly kiss for the crowd. We caught the energy of the stadium, that’s all.
Our personal lives are completely separate from this set.
I can assure you that whatever happens outside of these doors will never interfere with the caliber of our work. You have our word."
Elena stared at him for a long, calculating beat, her eyes searching his rigid profile. "I hope I can trust that, Aaron. Because a lot of eyes are on this launch. Let's get to work." She stood up, smoothing her blazer, and walked toward the production crew.
I sat frozen in the booth, a sharp, bitter sting cutting right through the center of my chest. A silly kiss for the crowd.
The words echoed in my ears like a slap to the face.
I didn't know what to think. Of course, I knew the kiss wasn't silly—not after the breathless, earth-shattering night we had just shared in my studio.
But hearing him completely dismiss what we were, seeing him refuse to be accountable or stand up for our...
whatever you wanted to call it, just to appease a corporate suit?
It hurt. It hurt a lot. It felt like his rigid handbook had just locked me right back out.
But I was a professional first. I swallowed the lump of disappointment in my throat, blinked back the heat in my eyes, and pushed the pain deep into the back of my mind. It was time to shoot.
The moment I lifted my heavy-body camera and the lights were calibrated, the raw, unadulterated magic of Leo's took over the entire campaign. The lifestyle segment turned out to be an absolute masterpiece.
Instead of traditional, sterile athletic poses, we focused entirely on contemporary realism.
We directed the models to look like regular, everyday people moving through a vibrant morning routine.
I tracked a male model in the unreleased black Jolt Noir tech-hoodie as he casually strode through the heavy front doors, the natural morning light filtering through the massive glass windows and catching the premium texture of the fabric.
I captured a tight, high-contrast burst frame of a female model in the orange lounge set, her fingers loosely wrapped around a steaming artisan latte cup, the industrial metal of the spiral staircase creating a gorgeous, moody shadow matrix in the background.
It looked incredibly authentic, raw, and effortlessly cool.
Leo's was the absolute perfect touch for the campaign; it completely stripped away the unapproachable, elite edge of typical sportswear, reaching out to the everyday, lifestyle consumer base who wanted luxury comfort in their daily routine.
Aaron operated right alongside me, his cinematic tracking crane sweeping smoothly through the bookshelves, matching my shutter clicks step-for-step without a single ounce of friction.
Professionally, we were completely in sync, executing the vision flawlessly.
But every time the director shouted cut and our eyes met across the dimly lit coffee shop, the heavy, unresolved silence between us hung in the air, a beautiful lifestyle shoot masking the quiet storm brewing between our hearts.
After the final shoot wrapped up, Elena was on such a high I believe she forgot all about the Kiss Cam issue entirely. But I didn't.
The lifestyle segment had turned out better than anyone could have expected.
The vibrant palette of the new collection—especially the striking orange, deep fuchsia, and rich sage green pieces—looked absolutely amazing set against the rustic brick, dark wood, and moody lighting of Leo's environment.
The colors popped with a luxurious, high-fashion warmth that grounded the entire line in contemporary realism.
"That was absolutely great, guys! I look forward to the final training segment!" Elena exclaimed, her eyes beaming with corporate satisfaction as she gathered her tablet and walked off toward the exit.
Within thirty minutes, the bustling energy of the coffee shop cleared out.
The equipment vans were loaded, the models had changed out of their wardrobe, and pretty much everyone was gone.
A heavy, quiet stillness settled over the empty lounge.
I stood near the back corner booth, my back turned as I carefully zipped my traveler luggage shut.
Suddenly, a familiar shadow cast over the table. Aaron approached my side, the soft thud of his sneakers against the hardwood floor instantly making my pulse skip a beat.
"Can I take you somewhere nice for dinner tonight?" he asked, his deep voice low, warm, and entirely hopeful as he looked down at me. He was completely oblivious of how hard his words stung.
I stopped freezing my hands against the zipper.
A heavy, suffocating wave of reality crashed right back over my chest. Though I knew logically that he had only said what he said to Elena to protect both our butts and ensure we kept our jobs, I couldn't help but let the cold logic pull me back to earth.
He was right. It was a silly kiss for the crowd.
The entire thing was silly to begin with—believing that we could actually go any further past this two-month deadline.
September was a hard wall. Tokyo was waiting for me, my entire career was rooted out of the country, and I knew damn well I didn't feel like going through the agonizing heartbreak of falling completely in love with a man I had to leave behind.
So, I chose survival.