Through the Lens (Click Duet #1) (Bay Area Duet Series) Persephone Autumn (black authors fiction TXT) 📖

Hanging my head, I mumble, “So, this is also about me. Her frustration isn’t just with you, but also with me. Am I right?” I hate that us being together will cause a rift in his career.

He brushes my hair behind my ear and follows the gesture with his eyes. “I didn’t mention you when I spoke with her earlier. But I’m sure she put two and two together with my greeting you. None of that matters, though. I’ll talk with her. Explain things she knows nothing about.”

My chest tightens as guilt riddles me. I don’t want animosity—between him and his agent or me, by proxy. “Okay. But, Gavin…” I pause and he locks his gaze on mine. “Please don’t make me the sole reason you return.”

He cocks his head and studies me a minute. His eyes narrow then relax behind his sunglasses as he starts to shake his head. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” I furrow my brows, obviously unaware. A small piece of my heart tells me I know the answer. Whispers it softly in my ear. But the gut-wrenching memories step out of the shadows and remind me to never assume. Assumptions kill dreams and crush hearts.

“It has always been about you. It always will be.”

“Gavin…” He can’t say things like that. Not unless he is prepared to back every sentiment. And not with more words or promises, but with actions. Actions are what I need.

His fingers brush along my jawline, from my temple to my chin. “You don’t get it, baby. I have missed you every day since the moment my mom packed our life up and moved us away. It’s been four thousand six hundred and ninety-eight days, Cora. And until I’m back here, with you beside me again, I won’t stop counting. Because it’s the only thing that gives me hope.”

My throat squeezes at his words, making it hard to swallow the lump building from emotional overload. Making it difficult to breathe. How do I follow up after he confesses facts so heavy? Anything I say after seems minuscule. But not responding makes me an asshole. Just as I am about to formulate a response, about to use my words, Alyson steps up to us and huffs.

“You two ready? The day won’t last forever,” Alyson snaps.

“Yep,” I snap in return. “Just discussing things while we waited for you.” I am over her shit already. It is too damn early to be bitter, but my lack of sleep is making me grouchier than usual. “Follow me,” I command, turning and walking away, not looking to see if either of them follows.

I understand her pissy state—I do. But being a bitch because someone chooses their happiness over yours is just plain shitty. Yeah, her job won’t be as easy going forward, but it’s manageable. Several professions nowadays don’t require people to reside in the same city, let alone state.

We walk a while, maybe thirty minutes. None of us mutters a word. The silence between the three of us borders on awkward. But the quiet gives me time to replay Gavin’s earlier confession. To come to the realization that he has missed me more than I previously suspected. But if he has pined for me all these years, why has he not done anything to remedy it? Why didn’t he reach out to me? He should have at least tried to explain what changed. It makes no sense. In the beginning, sure. Neither of us had the means to visit each other. But if he has wanted to return so badly, what has stopped him? His job? His mom? Maybe someone else?

The thought of another woman being the reason has my stomach churning. No doubt Gavin spent time with or dated other women over the last thirteen years. I’d be shocked if he hadn’t. But the idea of him being in a relationship now has bile coating my throat. So, I shove it aside and file it in the ask Gavin later part of my mind.

A quarter mile down the trail, I stop in my tracks, and Gavin runs into my backside.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “I should’ve said something to let you know we were here.”

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses my temple before correcting his stance.

Behind us, I hear Alyson huff and mumble something under her breath. Honestly, if she doesn’t chill the hell out, I am going to open my mouth and bark out things I cannot take back. I won’t regret a single word, but they will reflect poorly on my professionalism. And today is not the day to test my sanity.

Alyson slides a collapsible chair from a bag, opens it and plops down. After a minute, her focus shifts from me and Gavin to her incessantly dinging cell phone. Whatever keeps her attention focused elsewhere is good with me. Because every ounce of my rational side prays she remains silent the entire shoot. For her sake and mine.

This section of the trail is near the water, so we have the ability to get photos in the greenery, near the water, and a combination of both. The location is absolutely perfect. Not only for the scenery, but also because today’s shoot entails more skin. More skin than I typically shoot. More skin than I have probably seen on another guy in years. And not just any skin, but Gavin’s skin.

Please, powers that be, let me make it through today without doing or saying something stupid. Please.

Hence the need for partial seclusion. Alyson is nearby, but not close enough to see us in clear view. Let alone, hear us.

Don’t get me wrong, I have taken intimate pictures before. Couples who wanted to capture special moments such as pregnancy. Women—and men—who wanted to do something special for their significant other such as boudoir sessions. Boudoir sessions are the extent of the raciness in my portfolio. And they were saucy, steamy, and intimate as hell, but