8. Ethan
Ethan
I’d hoped that as I spent longer in this beautiful man’s presence, I’d locate my ability to converse normally.
Thirty minutes later, it was further away than ever.
Sam had left us to it, which was a relief. I didn’t mind input into my shoots, welcomed it even, but I hated when it evolved into micromanaging. What was the point of hiring someone who knew what they were doing then not allowing them to get on with it?
Fortunately, Sam didn’t fit into that mould. It put even more pressure on me to not fuck this up as I already knew I wanted to work with him again.
“Lift your left arm slightly higher,” I murmured, peering at Rami through the lens. “That’s great.”
For his part, Rami was the perfect model. He didn’t huff when I adjusted his position or complain if he was holding a pose for too long. Honestly, if every model Sam hired me to work with was like this, I was in for my dream job.
I clicked the shutter over and over again, marvelling at how the light caught on the contours of Rami’s abs.
I defied anyone to see this man on a book cover and not pick it up.
Rami was built for this. It wasn’t even just his looks—plenty of people had those.
What made a model captivating, what made Rami captivating, was the emotion.
He stared down the barrel of my lens like I was the love of his life.
There was an intensity there that wasn’t easy to fake.
The desire and need in his gaze would translate directly to the image.
Everyone who saw it would feel like they were the one Rami wanted.
It was a difficult thing to get right. Rami had to have a lot of experience. Maybe even a background in acting. It’d explain how naturally he was able to convey such emotions without saying a word.
I snapped a few more shots before lowering my camera. My gaze swept around the room. “Mind if we shift to a different position?”
“Not at all.” Rami unfolded himself gracefully from the sofa he’d been reclined on. I had to force my eyes to stay on his face rather than his rippling muscles. It was almost impossible. I was in a relationship, but there wasn’t anything wrong with my vision.
I gestured to a wall that was thankfully free of artwork. “Just over here, please. I’ll get the lights moved.”
“Let me help.” Rami glided forwards, and before I could protest, he had a lighting rig in each hand. He looked at me expectantly. “Where would you like them?”
“Um, there and there.” I pointed. I felt a little helpless as this giant man manoeuvred my equipment with ease. “You don’t need to do that, but I appreciate it.”
“Happy to help.” The easy grin he gave me had my stomach swooping. “Is there anything else I can do?”
My brain unhelpfully gave me several ideas of ways it’d like Rami to help me. Or maybe it was my cock. One head was definitely doing more thinking than the other. Pull it together, Ethan. You’re a professional, damnit. A professional with a boyfriend.
“No, but thank you.” I smiled politely. The last thing I wanted was for Rami to have any inkling of how his presence was affecting me.
Poor bloke probably dreaded having unscrupulous photographers drooling over him.
Sam would never hire me again if I made Rami uncomfortable.
“I’ll just be a minute or two while I adjust the settings.
Feel free to take a break. We might not stop again for a while, so now’s a good time to grab yourself a snack or a drink if you’d like. ”
Rami straightened suddenly, his head bobbing. “Good to know. I’ll be right back.”
He swept from the room, taking the fog of lust that’d settled over me since entering with him.
I put my camera on a nearby table then pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and gave myself a quick pep talk.
Do not fuck this up. You need a job. Yes, Rami is attractive, but so are lots of people you’ve photographed. You’re a professional, for fuck’s sake.
And you have Dave. Dave who’s been at your side through the worst moments of your life.
Mostly.
That was enough to have my libido wilting. How could I so much as look at another man with all Dave had done for me? Sure, he had his shit moments, but he’d moved back to the UK with me. He hadn’t broken it off like so many people would have.
I owed him better than this.
I had my back to the door when I heard Rami return, reaching above me to shift one of the lights by a few inches. “I’ll be ready for you in about thirty seconds.”
“Actually, I’m going to need ten minutes, if that’s okay.”
I closed my eyes. He’d already had ten minutes. Maybe Rami wasn’t the easygoing model I’d pegged him for. But I bit my tongue and forced a smile to my face before turning. “Of course. Take as long as you need.”
Rami sat on the edge of one of the full sofas, a sizeable tray of charcuterie in front of him. “Great. Come join me.”
“Um, what?”
Rami smiled encouragingly, patting the sofa beside him. “Come, sit. Eat. If we’re not going to be stopping for a while then you need sustenance too.”
“Oh.” I rubbed the back of my neck self-consciously. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. You’re the one we need to keep in tip-top shape.”
He raised a brow and fixed me with a stern look that had me repeating my pep talk silently. “But what if you keel over from low blood sugar? You can’t get your photos if you collapse and break your camera.”
I found myself grinning. “That’s kind of a leap.”
Rami sighed, patting the cushion again. “Humour me. You had a long walk here from the bus stop today. I haven’t seen you so much as sip water since you arrived. Let me fuss a little.”
I hesitated. I was a little hungry, which was weird. Still wasn’t used to that sensation after the endless rounds of chemo.
“Please,” Rami said softly. “Join me?”
Well, that wasn’t fair. How was I meant to say no to those eyes? I wanted to know what acting school he’d gone to, because there was no way he’d learned that pleading, adorable, gaze on his own.
“Just for a few minutes,” I said, settling onto the sofa beside him. My stomach gave an approving rumble as the scents from the tray reached me. Mortified, I pressed my hand against my tummy and gave Rami a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise.” He smirked. “I’m always happy to be proven right.” I watched with fascination as he loaded a cracker with several layers of meat before topping it off with a slice of cheese. It was kind of amazing how deftly he was able to manoeuvre given his size. “Here.”
“Oh,” I said in surprise. I’d thought he was assembling it for him. “Is that for me?”
Rami glanced down at the cracker before wincing. “Shit, are you a vegetarian? Vegan? Or is it just weird that I made it for you? My hands are clean, I promise. Fuck, sorry. I —”
I cut off his babbling with a chuckle. Honestly, knowing I’d inadvertently made him nervous stripped away a little of his mystique. Rami was a normal bloke, just like me. “No, it’s good. I love this stuff. Just not used to people doing things like that, I guess.”
Rami frowned as I accepted the cracker from him. “That’s a shame.”
I groaned as I took my first mouthful. Fuck, it was nice to have an appetite again. I got so lost in the flavours that it took me a minute to realise I hadn’t responded. “What is?”
“Never mind,” Rami said, holding up another loaded cracker. God, that was embarrassing. I’d been so focused on what I was eating that I hadn’t even realised he’d made it. “Here. Have some more.”
I took it with a grin. “Keep feeding me like this and I might never leave.”
Rami’s lips curved. “Damn. You’ve foiled my plan.”
Fuck, was he flirting with me? I sucked in a breath, accidentally forcing a crumb of cracker down the wrong hole. I choked, slamming my fist into my chest as Rami hastily reached for me in alarm.
“I’m fine,” I wheezed, giving him a watery smile. “Went down the wrong way.”
Rami lowered his hands slowly as his eyes darted all over me. “Are you sure?”
“Perfectly.” I reached for one of the two glasses of water on the table. “Sorry. I should probably tell you now that I’m a bit clumsy. Broken a fair few bones.”
“Really?”
I nodded as I glugged down half the glass. “Oh yeah. I broke my left leg falling off my bike one summer. My nose the next. Again, falling off my bike.”
Rami’s lips twitched. “What I’m hearing is you can’t be trusted on two wheels.”
“Or two feet.” I sighed, holding out my left arm. “See these scars? That’s from where I had pins in my wrist when I was eighteen.”
The words died in my throat as I stared at my wrist. At the pristine skin there.
Where the fuck did my scars go?
Rami hummed as he touched my wrist, right where the scars once were. “Pins? Fuck. How’d you manage that one?”
“Slipped off a kerb,” I said faintly, distracted by both my missing scars and the goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch.
What was going on with me today? Was I that touch deprived?
To be fair, I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched me in a way that wasn’t clinical.
Dave must’ve hugged me recently, right? Kissed me, even?
I wracked my mind. Fuck. The last time that I could remember was when I’d told him I’d been given the all-clear. That hadn’t been a kiss though.
When had those stopped?
I stared at Rami’s fingers. At where they lingered on my wrist. How long had things been this bad between Dave and me?
“Ethan?” Rami’s deep voice startled me out of my thoughts. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry,” I blurted out, snatching my arm back. “Went into my own world there. What were you saying?”
“Just asked if you’d had any other big injuries.” Rami’s smile was slightly tight as he settled back against the sofa. “Or if Sam should’ve arranged extra liability insurance for this shoot.”
I stiffened. “You don’t need to worry about that; I’m extremely conscientious at work. I also have my own insurance, so if anything does happen—”
“Whoa, whoa,” Rami interrupted, eyes wide with alarm. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. I was making a joke, honestly. You could smash up anything in here and no one would give a fuck.”
My lips twitched. “I think Sam might have a thing or two to say.”
Rami thought about it for a second. “Yeah, you might be right. He’d be the only one though.”
“Well, like I said, there’s nothing to worry about there. I tend to pay more attention at work. Outside of it’s a different story. It’s okay though, haven’t walked out in front of a bus in a while.”
Rami rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, that one might result in more than a broken bone or two.”
Blood. So much blood.
A smile. The most beautiful smile.
I blinked the images away. Where had they come from?
Before I could think on it any more, Rami changed the subject. “Have you lived in London long?”
“No,” I said, smiling as Rami put together yet another cracker. Hopefully this one was for him, but something told me it wasn’t. “I lived in California until fairly recently.”
I bit back a smirk as I took the proffered cracker. Rami stayed silent as I chewed, probably not wanting a repeat of me choking. It wasn’t until I’d swallowed that he finally spoke. “You didn’t live there all your life though. Not with that accent.”
I nudged the crackers towards him pointedly. “For you this time. We don’t start again until you eat too.”
Rami grumbled but moved to do as I asked.
“I moved there when I was twenty-one,” I said when I was satisfied he was going to eat. “Before that, I lived in Southampton. Well, I went to university there. I grew up in Kent.”
Rami nodded slowly. “I have friends in Southampton.”
His words struck me unexpectedly. Once upon a time, I could’ve said the same.
But not now.
“It’s a big city,” I said, suddenly keen to be away from this conversation. From the reminders of what I’d lost, and the future I’d gained without a clue of what it would hold. “Have you had enough to eat?”
“Have you?”
What model worried about whether their photographer’s needs were being met? Not any I’d come across before. “Yeah, I’m good. Thank you.”
My simple thanks had Rami’s face lighting up. “In that case, let’s continue.”