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“Lovely to meet you, Asher.”
“Likewise.” He winks, then his gaze drops down my body and the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “You’re welcome to come and see what I shoot if you have the time. Only fair since I took a very rude glimpse into your own work.”
“Maybe I will,” I reply. My voice trembles slightly and warmth explodes through my cheeks.
Asher’s smile widens. “I look forward to it. Emma.”
He says my name like it’s important punctuation and butterflies explode through my stomach, followed by a curl of disappointment when his hand slides out of mine. Then he’s gone, striding away through the studio with a fantastic ass being hugged by a pair of light blue jeans.
Holy shit. How have I never seen him here before? I don’t know who he is, but he’s gorgeous and I want him.
Fuck. Ana’s right. I need to get laid.
The sensation of Asher’s palm against my own follows me through the studio as I collect water for my client and head back to her. She’s fully dressed by the time I return and remains in good spirits. As per the end of every shoot, we sit together and go through the pictures, which allows her to choose which ones she wants to keep, and which ones I can use for my portfolio. As an amateur, my rates are exceptionally low, but most models are very willing to give me pictures for my portfolio. The next hour passes in a blur of pictures and some subtle editing, but my thoughts linger on Asher through it all.
There’s a strange anxiety in my chest, an itch that makes me want to move and shake out all my limbs. What if he’s gone by the time I finish? What if I miss seeing him again? My handsome, flirty photographer man.
Tina finally leaves with a wide smile on her face, a generous tip in my pocket, and a promise to be back the next time I have an opening. It takes an agonizing twenty minutes to tidy up the studio, and then I wander the studio in search of Asher.
The voice in my head telling me to prepare for disappointment gets suitably squashed when I reach the far end of the studio. Through an ajar door, I spot that gorgeous backside. Asher crouches in front of a flower stand, where a mass of petals of all different shapes and colors rain down around a plushy dog. Given that animals are not allowed in this studio, his substitute is just as cute.
I slip inside and quietly close the door, then Asher becomes my complete focus. He moves like a wildcat, stretching and stepping around his display to capture the best angles. There’s a moment when he gets so low to the ground but somehow doesn’t go onto his knees and I’m in awe at his flexibility. From here, I can see his computer too, and with each snap of his camera, beautiful pictures flash up on the screen. The colors are incredibly vibrant, and the lighting is so soft from some angles that you can’t even tell the dog isn’t real. Asher works for a good few minutes then pauses and looks at me.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” I smile immediately, unable to keep it from my face.
“All done with your sexy, spicy shoots?”
“For now. I figured it was time to get more in tune with nature.” I perch on the edge of the desk, keeping one hand on the hem of my skirt to stop it from rising too high past my knee.
“Nature is where the beauty is,” Asher says softly. “You’d fit right in.”
Warmth spreads across my cheeks, pouring down my neck. He’s definitely flirting. I like this. I like this a lot.
“Well then, we’re both in the right place.”
“Indeed.” Asher’s smile turns into a smirk. Then he resumes his work but at a slower pace. “So, is it rude of me to ask why you shoot boudoir?”
“No,” I reply. “Unless you plan to judge me.”
“Not at all.”
“Well…” The answer balances on the tip of my tongue. I haven’t discussed my photography with someone else in a long time. Ana and Meghan make comments, sure, but there’s no one in my life who really understands the extent of my passion.
“I like making people feel beautiful. I think, these days, it’s far too easy to get caught up in comparing yourself to others or tangling into a nest of what you think you should look like or can look like. I like helping people see that they are beautiful. Painting them in a light that shows who they are without changing anything. It sounds corny, but I mean, I struggled with the same thing for years, and now I get to help other men and women embrace their bodies, regardless of size and shape.”
“Admirable,” Asher replies, finally stopping his work. “What I saw of your work is breathtaking.”
“Oh.” I scoff softly, waving one hand. “It’s nowhere near as good as it can be.”
“Well, now, you wouldn’t be comparing yourself to other photographers, would you?” He levels me with a warm stare and our eyes lock.
“Not exactly.” I tilt my head and fog creeps along the bottom of my glasses as my face warms. “What about you?”
“Well, in a gray world, I like to remind myself about the beauty of nature. That color is closer than you think.”
“Boring,” I tease. “You just have a thing for flowers.”
