Page 14 of Breaking the Habit

“No, no.” Levi pocketed the phone again, focusing on his food again. “Sorry. Just…stuff.”

Riley nibbled on her bottom lip. Maybe she was getting too technical. Maybe when he asked about her process he really meanttry to get in your pants.She was probably naïve to think he actually cared about the work side of it. Probably he was texting other women. Lining up his next fuck.

“Keep talking,” Levi said, gesturing to the laptop screen. “I swear I want to know.”

“Well…like I was saying. The cage. It’s a huge problem for shooting.”

“The cage isn’t going anywhere,” Levi confirmed.

“Right. I wish I could get a little viewing hole.”

“I told you, we’ll build you a nest. A Riley-bird nest.” He tapped her foot with his, grinning.

“Very cute,” she said. “I’ll need a sign that says, ‘please don’t disturb me in my perchorbring me regurgitated food.’”

Levi knitted his brow. When she noticed his confusion, a laugh erupted from her.

“That was a joke,” she clarified. “Because, you know, mama birds? They puke up into their—” She shook her head. “No, never mind. Let’s delete that.”

Levi cackled. “You’re weird. Hey, do you know what sick birds get?”

Riley blinked a few times. She could sense the dad joke coming—all her skin prickled, waiting to see how bad it would be. “Um…no?”

“Tweetment.”

She laughed, pressing the back of her palm to her mouth. They were so dumb, all the time. Yet still somehow great.

“That was…pretty bad,” she said. “Do you have a mental catalogue of every silly dad joke in existence?”

“Pretty much.”

The two of them munched quietly while a picture of Levi’s face filled the screen. She ran through the rest of the images, pointing out the parts that she’d messed up on—wrong shutter speed, too late in snapping the picture, and the like.

“You’re gonna learn quick, though,” Levi said, wiping his hands on a napkin. “These look great. And this was a whatever practice.”

“Sports photography is a different beast, I’m seeing,” Riley admitted. She wanted Levi to not only be happy with the pictures, but in love with them. His payments to her were saving her ass and keeping her business afloat for the next six months. She needed to deliver a seriously good product.

“And these pictures are already better than fifty percent out there,” he said.

“So you’re not going to fire me for another photographer?” she asked hopefully, only half joking about it.

“Riley, you’re my ride or die photographer now.” Levi’s warm gaze trekked from her legs up to her face, leaving prickles in its wake. His quiet confidence in her was possibly the sexiest thing about him. And she realized in that moment, she would kill to have that sort of support in her daily life. Especially when it came to her business.

Nobody in her family gave a damn about her business. Her father, one of Hollywood’s most famous lawyers, had been one hundred percent opposed to her making her living as a starving artist. Basically everyone in her family was waiting for this to fail. And until last week, so was she.

Having the belief of someone like Levi—a client who could actually see and feel the impact of her work—was a small burst of light in the shrouded cavern of her career. It helped. It might not solve things permanently, but it at least reminded her that what she was doing was worthwhile in some way.

“We’ll test your chops at the first match, though,” Levi said, setting his container aside. He crumpled up a napkin, tossing it into the bag. “That’s where shit gets real.”

Nervousness prickled through her belly. When Levi had brought up the idea for being his photographer, she hadn’t been able to imagine the full scope of things. Now that she had a practice under her belt and could imagine the forthcoming challenges of high-speed punches and that damn cage barrier, she realized that she might actually be way out of her league.

“I’m a little nervous,” she admitted, toying with the corner of her laptop. The first match was a week away. That wasn’t much time to research her ass off, which was her only game plan going forward.

“You’ll do fine. But don’t be afraid to throw elbows,” he said.

“So as the photographer for a fighter, I should also be well versed in fighting?” She laughed. “Great. I’m sunk.”

“You look scrappy,” Levi said. “I wouldn’t cross your path.”

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