Page 141 of The Stud

“Ugh,” she pouts on a tiny wiggle, “we need more space.”

“There is a bit more towards the back by the restrooms.” I casually point. “I’ve seen other fans using it to pose with their signed materials while another takes the actual photo.”

“Perfect!” She grabs my hand with her free one, an action that has Peck lightly laughing at my expense.

Can’t blame him.

I would do the same if the situation were reversed.

The more secluded area stays that way thanks to her steady, shrill, squeaking insisting that people are going to mess up her shot.

Post her placing her cup on the decorative table, Peck and I each place a hand on her lower back, lean in, and smile for the photo op, suspecting that she’ll want more.

And she does.

Various positions are struck one after another, angles taken, recalibrated, and then executed to be taken again; however, by the time we’ve entered our sixth stance with Peck and I beyond bromantically close, there’s a spearing in my gut that has me believing these may be for her own personal fantasy collection.

Which is fine.

Honestly.

Everyone should have a spank tank.

I just don’t have to be part of the replenishing effort.

My mouth drops to declare that’s probably enough when Khurana pops his head around the corner to announce, “Peck, your fiancée is here.”

“Wings?!” His enthusiasm is instant. “Wings is here?!”

“I didn’t see her carrying wings,” Khurana confusedly counters, “but uh…maybe?”

Peck’s eyeroll is expected as is his swift self-dismal that unfortunately leaves me all alone with the wanna be Guinevere. “Can we do just a couple more?” She doesn’t leave room for denial and aggressively presses herself into my side, posing with one leg in the air. “Smolder.”

“What?”

“Smolder.” She presses her lips together in a small pout and leans inward towards the camera. “Like Beckham.” What I assume is meant to be a flirty look is executed. “Or Hunnam.” Her eyes meet mine in the camera. “Or Tiffin.”

“You do know they’re all English, yes?”

“So are you.”

Click, click, click, precedes me sighing, “Doctenn.”

“Ohmygod,” she cranes her face up to mine, “that’s so much hotter.” Another click is taken. “Can you like lean towards me and say your line again?”

Annoyance threatens to rear its ugly head when I snap my face downward. “It is not a line. IamDoctenn.”

Pattssee cups my cheek and coos, “Perfect.”

Her face crane closer to mine – too close in fact – prompting me to step away at the same time Arden steps in. “What the fuck’s going on back here?”

There isn’t even time to open my mouth to reply.

“Andwhyare you back here?”

“The main room is too crowded for us to be together,” announces the female I can’t fight the feeling is about to be a point of contention.

“We were simply taking fan photos,” I promptly explain, hands lifting in surrender.

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