Chapter 10 - Leo

The best sex of my life is an extreme understatement. The weeks of pining and sexual tension were 1000% worth it. 

Now when we’re doing a shoot it takes every bone in my body to resist jumping on him. I never realized how intimate photography is. Someone has laser-focused attention on you and is seeing sides of you nobody has ever seen before. Both literally and figuratively. Only a few feet in between, examining every part of your body trying to get you at the best angle. I’m surprised we didn’t sleep together sooner. 

Oh, yeah. Boxer briefs, by the way. 

It’s weird because I really surprised myself last night. For the first time in maybe ever, I was actually aware of how self-destructive I was being. I got mad at Jordan for something that I knew he wasn’t implying. Deep down I knew he didn’t mean it the way I was making it out to seem because I truly think he would never do anything to hurt me. But even so, I still kept going. Whether it was self sabotage, I don’t know. That part is typical of me so I’m not surprised. The surprising part was that I was angry at myself. My brain was angry that I was letting my mouth say all of these things I didn’t mean. It’s like my brain was thinking one way, but my mouth was saying the opposite. Usually when I’m mad, both my brain and mouth are on the same page. My brain kept telling me to stop and shut up, but I couldn’t. What he said last night triggered some part of my brain and catapulted me back to the darkest times of my childhood. 

‘Never rely on men for anything. Especially money. You’ll be used and abused.’

These are the things my mom would tell me. I didn’t see her a lot during my childhood so the words she actually did say to me stuck. They’re lodged in some deep part of my mind and are only brought to the surface if I’m triggered like I was last night. 

 By the time we got to The Rabbit Hole, I thought this was over. The entire 5-minute ride my brain was catastrophizing, screaming at my mouth to say something. 

To say sorry. To say I didn’t mean that. To say literally anything, but I couldn’t. Until right before I was about to get out of the car. I think my mouth realigned with my brain because I knew if I didn’t do anything this would be the end of us. Then I did something that I don’t think I’ve ever done in my entire life: I apologized for what I said. 

When we were in London and he was talking about girlfriends he’s had, I was starting to think he was just messing with me and that he wasn’t actually into me, which resurfaced some repressed memories. Then he asked me why I still work at The Rabbit Hole when he pays me enough. Or at least that’s the way I took it at that moment. 

But now when I look back I know he’s not that type of person. He’s very supportive of me being independent. Usually it feels like my emotions are driving and I’m in shotgun, giving directions but being ignored, emotions taking their own route. But last night I was able to compartmentalize my emotions and not act on past impulses. Wow, I actually learned something from therapy. Who would’ve thought.

Click. 

Click. 

Flash.

Jordan gets up from his squatting position and starts going through his camera. “That’s good for today.” I make my way toward a clothing rack in the middle of the room. Jordan has only been taking pictures of me during his hiatus and is declining any jobs that I can’t do. A lot of brands are still reaching out to him even after he publicly announced he’s taking a break but because he loves what he does, he’s still not fully taking a break. I change back into my crewneck and jeans and saunter toward where he’s now sitting on the couch. 

“What do you do with all of the pictures you don’t like? You don’t just delete them do you?” 

He glances up at me, trying but failing to hide his smile. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never taken a picture of you that I don’t like.” I take a seat next to him and roll my eyes into my skull. “Okay lover boy. Before me, what would you do?”

He takes a cloth and starts wiping the lens. “Depends. Sometimes they want all of the photos to make their own decisions on which ones they want.” I watch his hands as he uses a wet wipe all around his camera. The same hands that were in between my thighs last night. “But most of the time,” he continues. “They ask me to send them my best 5 or 10.  Once they approve them and the project is finalized, I save the rest on a backup drive in case they lose them or change their minds.” 

I push all horny thoughts of my brain and I pull my legs up onto the couch. ”And how do you pick which ones are best? Do you always print them out and hang them on your walls?” He puts one hand over his mouth and turns his head down. His hair covers the expression he’s making but I can hear amusement in his voice. “No, that was just for you. I’d only do that for yours.” 

I crinkle my nose. “You already got in my pants, you don’t have to say stuff like that anymore.” He whips his head up and raises his eyebrows at me. “Do you think I’m saying these things just to get you to sleep with me?” 

I shrug. He wouldn't be the first. As if reading my mind he continues. “Other guys may have said things like that just to sleep with you but when I say things like that I actually mean it. And I’d still say these things even if we weren’t sleeping together or if you told me you’re never sleeping with me again.” His voice is full of sincerity. 

I rest my head against my knees and look up at him. “Okay. I believe you.” 

And I really do. He watches me for a second longer. I stop myself from asking him how many people he’s said words like that to.