Page 44 of Wildest Dreams

She puts her hand on my arm. “We could be such a power couple. Like Jay-Z and Beyoncé. I don’t understand your problem.”

I push her away, hoping no one snapped another photo of us together. “That’s it, Marina. You want the status. The headlines. The photo ops. You don’t want me. You don’t even know me.”

“But I could.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but this has to stop. Don’t call me anymore. Save whatever feelings you have for the camera.”

With that I leave, the heat of her glare burning a hole in my back.

I shower as soon as I get to the house. There are about thirty mosquito bites on my legs, so I decide to wear jeans to cover them.

I can’t wait to see Kendall. It’s been excruciating, not talking to her this week, which of course has only made me miss and want her more. I can’t stay at her apartment too late. Since shooting this week got pushed back a day because of the rain, we have a full schedule on Main Street tomorrow.

As I’m leaving, an empty nail on the living room wall catches my eyes. It’s about the size of a large photo, and I assume a wedding photo was there at some point. I look around. There are a lot of empty spaces here that once held memories.

Maybe if I could create new memories here, Kendall would come back. She said herself this is her dream house. She shouldn’t let Tucker take that away from her.

I have an idea. Tonight, we’ll make new memories.

* * *

“You weren’t kidding about the flowers.” I stand in the lobby of Kendall’s office, the smell of roses completely overpowering as I look at the mounds of bright buds and dark green leaves covering every surface and half of the floorspace. I hug her and kiss her forehead.

“It’s a little overwhelming, much like you,” she says with a sly grin.

“You deserve every petal and more. I’m only glad I got your attention.”

“I’m sorry to have you come over here again,” she says. “I don’t want any more attention, and there’s nowhere to go without running into someone with a cell phone and a big mouth.”

“Yeah. Even if we drive to Montgomery or Auburn, someone is bound to recognize me.”

We walk upstairs, which is as covered in flowers as the office. I chuckle as she shakes her head. “I told you!” she says.

“I have an idea for these flowers.”

“What’s that?”

“Where’s your camera?”

“At the bottom of the chifforobe. Why?”

“I want to take your picture. We can recreate your Easter picture by the rose bushes.”

“I’m not putting my hair in pigtails.” She crosses her arms over her body and covers her face, like she’s embarrassed.

“You don’t have to. I’d like to photograph you just as you are.”

“But why?” She’s suddenly awkward and putting her walls up. I can feel it.

“Because you’re beautiful, and we have all of these flowers to use as a backdrop.”

She flushes. “I— I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

“Why? You can keep your clothes on, I promise.”

Her face turns bright red. “It’s not that. It’s… I’m not photogenic at all. You saw those pictures of me on TMZ.”

I shake my head and walk up to her, holding her face in my hands. “Kendall,” I say, “you’re the most gorgeous person I know. Let me show you how you look through my eyes.”

---