Page 15 of The Girlfriend Zone

“Why not?” she asks, her lips teasingly close, a playful challenge in her voice.

“I want to make you wait for it,” I say, enjoying the game.

She pouts. “You’re a tease.”

“I’m only a tease if I don’t follow through…later,” I add, brushing a finger along her jawline.

She sighs softly, her eyes flickering with desire. It takes all my willpower not to lean in. But discipline’s my middle name. I pull away, nodding toward the trail. “Next cache?”

“If you can handle more of my geocaching excellence,” she says.

“And I thought we were a team.”

“I guess I’m competitive,” she says with no remorse. But she has no idea how competitive I can be.

“I can handle it.”

Her eyes sparkle with the thrill of the challenge as we continue down a narrow path.

We’ve been out for a couple hours, and somehow, wehaven’t talked about my job. Maybe because there’s so much else to talk about—the trails, the park, where we should look. “So, you’re doing Birdie’s photos?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I am. She wants them at the coffee shop, high-kicking on the counter. I think I love her,” Leighton says, laughing as we walk along a small creek.

“That’s Birdie’s style for sure.”

“I can’t wait. It’s exciting to shoot different types of photos.”

“You do more than boudoir?” I ask.

She nods. “Well, I’ve only just started out. I graduated from college last year,” she says. “But I apprenticed while I studied, and over the past year, but I just returned to San Francisco a few months ago. I’ve done a few boudoir shoots and want to do more, but I do some sports, lifestyle, fashion, headshots—whatever feels right. And honestly, whatever pays the bills.”

It hits me—she’s a whole decade younger than my thirty-three. I sort of guessed that, but didn’t know it till now.

There’s no point in pretending we’re the same age. “I graduated more than a decade ago. A decade and a year.”

She laughs. “That’s specific.”

But that’s all she says, so I suppose she’d already figured out there are some years between us. “And you do sports photography too?” I ask, returning to that. Sure, Birdie said not to discuss my job, and that’s fine by me. But I don’t want to leave out details that might matter to her.

“I do,” she says. “I did that in college for the school paper—online of course—which is where I really learned to shoot.” Then she pauses, giving me a serious look. “But we don’t have to talk about work, Miles.”

And that’s clear—she doesn’t want to. “Fair enough,” I say, and I guess Birdie really does know best, so I’ll keep following her advice. And I should give credit where it’s due. “Confession time,” I say, glancing at Leighton who’s walking next to me.

“Oh, is it now?” she asks, clearly intrigued.

“Birdie said I should take you geocaching. I’m pretty sure she engineered this whole date. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’d called that model and asked him to cancel.”

Leighton smiles knowingly. “She asked me if I was single.”

I crack up. “She’s about as subtle as an anvil. And I’m going to seriously owe her.”

Her eyes lock with mine, glimmering with mischief. “You are.”

There’s that confidence that hooked me the other day—that flirty, bold side of Leighton. It pairs beautifully with her more vulnerable side. I reach for her hand, tug on it, and pull her close to me again, stopping her on the trail as trees canopy us, and birds flicker from branch to branch. She lifts her chin, her gaze challenging. I slide a finger along her bottom lip, and she bites the pad of it, just enough to send a charge through me.

“Soon, soon,” I whisper. “I swear I’ll kiss you soon.”

“So you say,” she says.

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