Page 43 of For the Cameras

Were all of my clothes justnot right, somehow? I felt an urge to go update my wardrobe, another feeling that I’d never had until now.

I paced over toward the glass-paned windows in my bedroom balcony doors, looking out at the morning light. I breathed deep, realizing that my heart rate had gone up already and the day hadn’t even started.

Fuckme, I was nervous to see Chase.

It had only been two days since I’d woken up on his couch, naked, embarrassed as all hell.

Early in the morning, I’d gotten up and thrown my clothes on. I left his apartment as quietly as I could, but the shame had followed me like a dog for the last 48 hours. Chase texted me a polite message saying the night had been fun, but it didn’t do much to help.

I couldn’t think about our night together without freaking out a little inside.

But… I also couldn’t think of it without getting hard.

Really fucking hard, sometimes.

It was a cruel, delirious mixture of arousal and shame that felt similar to the lustful embarrassment I got the first few times I uploaded videos to OnlyShots. Being so turned on even when I felt like I’d done something wrong. Craving more, even though I’d been mortified waking up naked the next morning.

And today, the crew was coming over for more renovation and TV show filming. I was going to have to see Chase, and I had no idea what to expect now.

The doorbell rang out as I was looking at a bird on my balcony and I jumped.

I furrowed my brow, checking my phone. It was still thirty minutes before any of the Fixer Brothers guys were set to arrive. Who was ringing the doorbell so early?

I jogged downstairs and glanced out the front window before going to the door, only getting more confused. There was a cherry-red Ferrari in my driveway, and a man in a crisp business suit at the door.

What the hell?

The Fixer Brothers guys were doing well for themselves, but I knew none of them drove a Ferrari.

I swung open the front door.

“Good morning,” the man said to me. He looked straight out of an episode of Mad Men—fancy, professional, and slick. “Emmett Waycott. You must be Adam.”

“I am,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. “Adam Richardsen.”

He must have heard the confusion in my voice. He gave me a polite smile. “I’m with Lux Marketing. We’ve been in talks with the Fixer Brothers. Did Shawn and Nathan let you know I was coming by to shadow them today?”

“Oh,” I said, faintly recalling an email chain where Shawn mentioned a potential marketing firm looking to work with the company. “So you’re the one who wants to take the Fixer Brothers to the next level? Come on in, by the way. Shit. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

I’d already been flustered all morning, and this was a curveball I hadn’t expected in the slightest. I felt like an insensitive prick sometimes when I lagged behind on social cues. This time, I could hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head:always invite people in, don’t leave them hanging at the door! Offer them a drink!

“Thank you,” Emmett said, stepping inside.

“Would you like something to drink?” I asked him. “Coffee, water, orange juice?”

“I brought my trusty espresso and a cold-pressed green juice,” Emmett said, tapping his fancy leather shoulder bag. “I’m more addicted to caffeine than I’d like to admit, but I figure the green juice balances it out with some nutrients.”

I nodded once. “Tell me about it. I guzzle coffee like a pig at a trough.”

It was an attempt at a light joke, and Emmett gave me another polite smile, even if it didn’t quite make him laugh.

Having him in my house already felt like a puzzle I couldn’t quite solve. Social interactions that I couldn’t prepare for werealways a wild card—I’d been agonizing over what I was going to say to Chase when he showed up, but Emmett was another beast entirely. He was clearly a very nice, very professional person, but I was no good at small talk.

“Here’s the kitchen,” I said as I led him into the house. “As you can see, it’s a bit of a war zone, but the guys are making good progress.”

The kitchen was full of construction equipment, half-finished with exposed wood and plaster all over the place. It smelled like the inside of a hardware store, and Emmett looked a little out of place in his perfect tailored suit.

“Very nice,” Emmett said, looking all around. “I’ve been so impressed by what I’ve seen on the TV show.”

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