Page 110 of Promise Me Not

That’s got to be some kind of sign.

Payton steps up to who I thought was the photographer, and within a moment, she’s swarmed, her short little body buried behind half a dozen others from the school paper.

A hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I look to find Coach standing there with a brow raised. “Go on, kid. Get some push-ups in, and get those veins bulging. Wouldn’t want to look like the skinny one in the pictures next to Blanca.”

I glare, and he laughs, shaking his head as he stalks off toward the long table covered in finger foods. Pretty sure it’s intended for the staff, but that doesn’t stop him.

Shaking off my thoughts, I do exactly what Coach suggested, adding in a solid hundred crunches before those big blue eyes find mine in the crowd, calling me over without a word.

Too bad Jeremy and Fernando are called on too. I smirk when I glance at Jeremy, his chest, arms, and overall physique smaller than mine, but a frown digs at my brows when I face Fernando. Fucker’s added a good twenty pounds on since the end of the season, and in all the right places, but she doesn’t like that big, buff look.

She likes trim and tapered, wide shoulders, and a core that looks painted on…if I do say so my damn self. She likes, well,me.

I glance her way, narrowing in on the pink of her cheeks as she looks at the three of us through the lens.

Right?

“Okay, Payton, we want at least a dozen group shots to pick from and then double that for the individuals. We’ll be featuring them come summer, trickling them in to help build excitement for next season. And if there’s one thing theAvix Inquirerreaders love, it’s abs, so don’t hold back. Move them where you want them, and let us know when you’re done. Kari and Leddy are working lighting, so just do you, and they’ll follow your lead.”

Payton nods, the slight press of her lips letting me know she’s a bit nervous, but then she blinks, straightens her shoulders, and hot damn. She transforms.

One minute she’s a blushing, shy little thing, and the next she’s bossing a two-hundred-and-sixty-pound man around like no one’s business.

It’s a damn good look on her, but I’m not the only one who thinks so, and when it’s Fernando who goes first for his solos, he’s a smirking bastard, staring her right in the eye the entire time.

I stand to the side, arms crossed and glare intact, listening as she instructs him, praising when he does what he’s told, but when she asks him to twist his torso slightly while keeping his hips facing forward, he pretends like he don’t get it.

“You’ll have to show me, sweetheart. I’m not sure what you mean.” He grins, and the fucker ain’t ugly.

But he is lying.

I’ve seen his Instagram. He’s a thirst trap pro. Loves the mirror.

Payton steps away from the tripod and onto the small rise of the set. Her hands move out, and she directs him without touching him.

Fernando’s eyes are on her face, and he smiles wider. “Like this?” He doesn’t even move.

“No.” Payton chuckles, and this time when her hand goes out, her fingers press to his upper abs. “Twist here. It will define the abs more, and keep facing forward.”

My teeth are grinding together, and I take a step forward when his hand shoots out, wrapping around her wrist as he does what she asked.

Payton’s eyes snap my way instantly, and that is the only reason my feet freeze in place.

She knows I don’t like it, doesn’t she?

Knows I want his hands off her and hers off him.

“Like this?” Fernando smirks.

Anger and jealousy start to boil in my blood, and my foot starts tapping.

This is her job. She’s working.

She’s not touching him because she wants to.

I close my eyes, counting to five, and when I open them, she’s behind the camera again.

Jeremy goes next and listens a hell of a lot better, and then it’s my turn.

---