Page 6 of The Photographer

I’ve never met a man more attractive than Philip, and I feel giddy, wishing I could just drink him with a straw. My cheeks heat. He must know I think he’s hot, but I get that he won’t make any advances and he probably never will. He’s too moral. But maybe the two of us can have a relationship, once I’m older? I’ll wait for him if he waits for me too. All I know for sure is that I want Philip to have my virginity. The last thing I need is a boy fumbling around, clumsily asking me if he’s doing it right.

As if I would know!

I’ve never even been kissed, unless you count the times I experimented a bit with my girlfriends. But their lips were a little too soft and they tasted like bubblegum. Not how I imagine a man tastes. Not how I imagine Philip would taste. My face flushes when I think about what I asked mom yesterday. I asked if she and Philip had ever kissed. After all, they used to hang out a ton but mom laughed so hard she nearly fell off her chair. She told me that in all the years, she’d been around Philip she had never seen him bring a girl, flirt with one or even mention one. I don’t know why, but it made me feel a stab so sharp in my womb that I nearly fainted. It was as if my body suddenly cried out for something, but I don’t yet know what it was. But I still feel it, throbbing with a brutal passion in my lower belly.

It increases each time I look at Philip. Pinching my lip, I try to be professional and I straighten, ignoring the group of guys that walk by and let out wolf-whistles. They go to the same school as I do; wear the same uniform and Philip must’ve noticed because he tenses. He glares at them, giving them such stern look that they cower from his power and immediately cross the street.

”Friends of yours?” Philip grits but I shake my head.

”They’re punks.”

The corners of his mouth curve. ”Do the punks give the little princess a hard time?”

”Nope. They just wanted attention just now. They always do. I’m pretty popular at school and I’m used to them being annoying.”

”Popular?” Philip says with a raised brow and I shrug. ”Don’t know if I like the sound of that. Popular girls tend to have a ton of boyfriends.”

”What does it matter to you?” I whisper and he freezes.

”It doesn’t. Just don’t like the thought of anyone touching you.”

Another stab hits my womb. ”Why?” I whisper, in an even lower tone than before and I’m not sure he heard me. Then I realize that he did, because he puts his camera down. Something swirls in his eyes that makes me feel as if I’m pinned to a wall. My clothes have been torn off and my arms are spread as are my legs. I feel like a target, about to get hit on by a man more than twice my age and my limbs turn limp.

”Don’t ask me those questions,” Philip rasps. He swallows, putting the lens cap on and to my disappointment I realize that we’re done. Bummer. I wanted to spend more time with him. If I could, I’d be frolicking around in his bed all day. Philip walks over to me. ”Do you know that you’re pretty?” he asks.

My cheeks heat. ”Yes…”

”Then do you also know that making it in the industry requires more than just a pretty face? It’s a lot of hard work and not many photographers are as nice as I am.” His gaze lowers to my mouth. ”You need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

”I’ll handle it. I know I can make it.”

He rubs the back of his neck. ”If I were you, I’d reconsider. You have a ton of options. Why not try for college…”

”No,” I clip and Philip’s eyes darken. ”You sound like my mom.” I cross my arms over my chest. ”And that’s not a compliment.”

Philip’s eyes soften. ”Maybe your mom’s right.”

”Nah-ah,” I firmly shake my head and take off my jacket because I’m just too warm. But maybe I shouldn’t have. Because the heated way Philip’s eyes slide over my breasts makes me feel as if I’ve just been tossed into lava. My breath hitches. It stocks in my throat and my arms prickle. ”Phil…” I pant and he takes a step back.

”Graduation’s next week you said?” he says, his voice gravelly and I nod while holding my breath. ”Come back then. I don’t want to see you around here until then.”

”But…”

”No buts.”

”Will you come to my graduation?”

”No.”

”Why not? Please come.”

”Sweetheart, I’m not doing that. Do you understand me? There’s no need for me to be in that crowd. I’m not your daddy.”

I flinch. My face flames and I clumsily take a couple of steps back. I stare at Philip, then take my purse and run off. Embarrassment flares in me. Why did he have to say that and with so much ferocity? It felt as if he was scolding me, as if he thinks I was trying to make him fit a role and he doesn’t want it. I walk into an alley and lean against the brick wall. My heart is pounding and I put a hand on top of my heart. It’s beating like a hammer trying to kill me. I take a couple of deep breaths when I hear footsteps. Someone followed me in here.

Philip.

My jaw slacks when I turn to him. He stands there with his camera and the stark colors of the sunset flare behind him. I tremble when he walks closer. He lets go of his camera and puts both hands on either side of my face. I can smell his cologne, and he smells of Sauvage and something else…whatever it is, I want it on my skin and I want to smell like him for the rest of my life.

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