Behind His Lens (7 page)

After Bennett drops my hand so he can wrap both around Naomi, I reach down to grab my water bottle. The moment I stand, Jude’s intoxicating scent wraps around me and I inhale deeply before standing back up. He’s finally going to acknowledge me. I shift my gaze up to see him standing a few inches away. Instinctively, I turn toward Naomi for help, but she’s wrapped up in whatever Bennett’s saying.

“How’s your endurance, Charley?”

My mouth hangs open as I turn back to Jude.

What? What the hell kind of question is that?

“What?” I don’t even try to hide the shock in my voice.

I watch as his innuendo settles in and he has the decency to glance down at his feet before meeting my eyes again. No. Stop. Stop being charming.

“I meant do you run every day?” he clarifies with a sly smile. I watch the corners of his lips curl up with intense concentration. His mouth looks like it was made for whispering dark thoughts in dark corners.

“Every morning,” I answer in a clipped tone
, trying to conserve my composure. But then I feel bad for cutting the conversation off, so I add, “It looks like you work out a lot too.”

His smile widens and adorable dimples dot his cheeks.

“I try to stay in shape…”

My eyes drift down his body. Obviously he does.

“Will you be at the photo shoot on Monday?” I ask, wanting to know if I should prepare myself for his presence.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be there? It’s a two day shoot.”

“Oh, you just left so quickly yesterday.” I chew on my lip. Should I have acted like I didn’t notice?

“There was nothing left for me to do. My assistants handle the grunt work.”

He doesn’t mean for his words to slice me, but they do. They cut right through me and I can no longer meet his eyes.

“Ah,” I murmur, twisting the lid on and off my water bottle.

He clears his throat and I glance up to watch him wring out his hands. “Will you be at the bar later?”

I slide my gaze toward Naomi and Bennett. I know she’ll make me go even if I’d rather not. “Looks like it,” I answer, tilting my head to the lovebirds. His eyes slide in their direction and he smirks gently before recovering his cool demeanor.
I guess we’ll both be there against our will. How romantic.

“Then I’ll see you later,” he
clips sternly, as though we’re planning a business meeting. My water bottle crinkles as I wring my hands around the hard plastic.

I chew on my lip and nod, but I don’t reply. Instead, I turn on my heel to grab Naomi so we can begin the trek home.

“Oh, and Charley,” Jude calls behind me. I turn around to see the sun glinting off his icy blue eyes. “That running gear might be even
sexier
than that first gown you wore for the shoot.”

His wo
rds, delivered so confidently in what I later realized to be his trademark arrogant demeanor, practically burn my body into a pile of crumbled ash on the spot.

…

“Nothing about him makes sense. He’s completely cold and distant one minute and the next he’s winking at me or telling me I look good in my running gear. I feel like I get whiplash when I’m around him and I don’t know how to handle it. Most guys are easier. I can read their personality and mold to the situation, but Jude keeps me on my toes. I never know if he’s going to tell me to fuck him or fuck off.”

“And which would you like to do?” Naomi mocks in a therapist’s tone before breaking out in giggles.

“Neither!” I huff, pulling the bathroom curtain closed.

“You know it doesn’t
really count as a dramatic exit when you don’t even have a door separating your bathroom from your bedroom.”

“Yeah, well
pretend I slammed my door really loudly because you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I am!” s
he assures me, ripping back the curtain and looking at me with her puppy dog eyes. “Charley, don’t let him get to you. Yes, he might be the hottest man we’ve ever seen, but he’s too complicated! Relationships shouldn’t be complicated. They should make you happy. Like Tom. He made you happy right? And he’s cute underneath that mop of hair.”

“
And
he has an accent,” I add meekly.

“See! Just stick close to Tom and you’ll be fine. Jude probably won’t even come.”

But he told me he’d be there.

“Fine,” I huff. “
Will you pour me another shot?” I ask, batting my eyelashes up at her. I’ve been ready for the past half hour, and I’ve used the remaining time building up my liquid courage.

“Charley,” s
he reprimands me like my mother. “You’re tiny and you never drink. Do you think another shot is a good idea?”

I give her a pointed stare.
“Do you want me to go with you tonight, Naomi?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, please my sweet, exotic bonita, pour me another shot.”

“
That sentence doesn’t even make sense.” But it worked because I watch her walk over to the cheap bottle of tequila and pour another few ounces into my ‘I love NY’ shot glass.

“Oh, but doesn’t it?” I cock an eyebrow seductively.

“Nope. Still doesn’t,” she laughs before stepping closer with a determined pace. “Can I make your eye makeup darker? Your lip gloss and mascara combo could be worn by a thirteen year old.”

“Be my guests,” I say before tipping back my fifth shot. I know I’ll be toast before we even make it to the bar, but that’s not my problem. Or is it? I can’t
seem to decide in my tipsy stupor.

“God, are you already dru
nk? You just pluralized ‘guest’. You realize that, right?”

I place my hands on her shoulders and try to focus
. “Naomi. Work your magic and give me a sultry look. I want Jude to realize what he’s missing.”

I expect her to laugh off my comment, but I think she can tell that deep down I’m dead serious. I want to be the sexy vixen I was pretending to be during the photo shoot. I want the part of Jude that thinks I look good in my workout clothes to fawn all over me tonight. His demeanor might be all over the place, but I know what I want and with the aid of alcohol, I’m confident enough, or just
inebriated enough, to let myself realize it.

…

“C’mon, Charley.” Naomi tugs my hand lightly as we step inside the dim bar. I know we’re running late because Naomi repeated it three times in the cab on the way over and then she practically tumbled out of the cab before the driver had even stopped near the curb.

She
took forever with my eye makeup, but I’m secretly glad. It was just the right amount of time to allow the alcohol to hit me like a slow, seductive wave. I’m just the right amount of tipsy. You know, the point at which you wink at the bouncer when you hand him your I.D., but you don’t throw up on his patent leather loafers. I feel good. Naomi let me stick with the clothes I’d already picked out. My skinny jeans are tucked into light grey, suede ankle boots and I’ve got on my favorite black, off-the-shoulder sweater.

The Village Tavern is a low-key bar, but it’s still packed on a Saturday night. Warm bodies move against one another, vying for the bartender’s attention. But just as I step up to join the ranks, Naomi tugs my arm.

“Not yet. Let’s find the guys.” She raises her eyebrow challengingly and I know I don’t want to pick this battle. I’ll just get a drink when we sit down. “Sexy ‘bonitas’ don’t buy drinks for themselves, Charley,” she adds with a silly eye-roll.

I’m not usually like this. Alcohol always reminds me of my mother, but tonight I’m
pushing those memories aside and indulging in the blissful euphoria swirling around me. All I know is that before I started drinking, my stomach was in knots about seeing Jude again, but now I’m excited. I
hope
he’s at the table with the guys. Bring on your sexy broodiness, Jude.

“Naomi, is
broodiness a word?” I ask through tipsy giggles.

She glares back at me
, but I still see the hint of a smile. She’s nervous about seeing Bennett; I can feel the tension emanating from her and I wish I could reassure her of his interest but nothing I say gets through to her.

“Charley!” I hear someone call behind us
, and I twist around to see Tom walking back from the bar. He’s balancing a few beers in his hand, so I assume he’s getting the first round for everyone. Everything about him puts me at ease. He’s wearing a plaid flannel button-down and his curly hair hangs over his forehead. His smile widens even more as he gets closer to us.

“You guys look great!” He shouts over the music. Bars are meant to be quiet enough for conversation to take place, but the music is always loud, forcing people to talk louder, causing a domino effect where everyone usually ends up going home hoarse.

Naomi nudges her sharp elbow into my back and pulls me out of my random musing.

Oh, right.

“Thanks, Tom. You look cute too,” I offer because it’s true. He looks happy and carefree. Just like what I plan to be tonight.

“Sorry I didn’t get you guys a drink, but I’ll walk you to the table and then head back to the bar,” he offers with a side grin.

“Sounds good,” Naomi says quickly, obviously wanting to make it to the table sooner rather than later. I’ve never seen her like this.

“Lead the way.” I gesture and fall in line behind the two of them. I stick close to Naomi so I don’t lose them in the crowd, but as I crush myself between bodies, my bracelets cling together and I glance down to make sure they aren’t falling off. I always wear bracelets and rings, having perfected the art of layering from watching the stylists do it so often. I swap jewelry out all the time, but my grandmother’s antique ring always dots my middle finger on my left hand.

“You guys made it!” I hear Bennett call in front of us with unmasked elation. He’s not playing the role of cool, calm, and collected. His emotions for Naomi read across his face like an open book, and I watch as she rounds the table to take the seat next to him. He leans in to kiss her on the cheek and Tom takes the open seat on the other side of her. Which leaves me having to pick between sitting by myself on the other end of the table or sitting sandwiched between Tom and Jude. Of course.

My eyes sweep over Jude quickly, taking in his dark jeans and white t-shirt peeking out from under his heather gray v-neck sweater. He’s got the sleeves tugged up just enough so I can see the toned muscles of his forearm. I’m practically salivating by the time I remember to breathe.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” I lean down and whisper into Jude’s ear as I take the seat next to him.

He glances up with an amused look
, as if surprised by my boldness. I like that I’ve caught him off guard, as if I’m the one controlling things for a change.

I keep watching him as I string my bag along the back of my chair, expecting him to offer a
retort, but I’m left hanging. Instead, he turns toward the beers Tom placed on the table. He leans forward to grab a bottle and brings it to his lips in one fluid move. His sharp gaze flits back over to me as the bottle reaches his mouth and I watch, completely enamored, as the liquid slides down his throat.

A slow, sexy grin spreads across his mouth and somehow without uttering a single word, he’s stolen all the power once again.

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” he murmurs, glancing at me through the corners of his eyes with amusement.

He’s going
be the death of me.

“You’re k
ind of a smug bastard sometimes,” I accuse with a skeptical glare.

Did I actually just say that?

“Sometimes?” he asks, licking a drop of beer off his lips and placing the bottle back down on the table.

Drunk off cheap shots and determination, I reach forward and take the beer, repeating the same exact move he just did for me. Except I’m taking
his
beer and the look on his face says I’m going to pay for the rebellious behavior.

My entire body shivers with anticipation. What would he do in front of all these people? Take my
bait? Kiss me? No. That would only happen in my fantasies.

“It appears our little Charley is drunk,” he smiles
sardonically, looking toward Tom.

Fuck him.

I drop the beer haphazardly onto the table in front of Jude and he has to reach out to stabilize the bottle before it tips over. The whirling of the beer’s rim on the wooden table in the only sound I hear as I try to calm my nerves.

“Tom,” I ooze sweetly, glancing up at him from under my lashes, “Would you like to go get that drink with me now?”

I glance back toward Jude and notice his jaw clench. His blue eyes drift from my face down to the exposed skin afforded by my off-the-shoulder sweater. He’s hardly a foot away, and I swear I can feel his warm breath caress the arc of my collarbone. What would his lips feel like against the delicate skin at the base of my neck?

“Oh, sure, yeah
.” Tom hops up and a sudden pang of guilt hits me. I only asked him to go with me to piss Jude off. What kind of person does that? Right then I resolve to be polite, but careful not to lead Tom on. I actually think we could be good friends if he was up for it.