Page 29 of Between the Blue
And, once again, I’m reminded just how little I know about this man that has managed to become the bane of my existence.
“Are we about to be on a middle name basis, Bennett James?” I ask, letting out a fake flirtatious gasp.
“No–”
“Mine is Annette.”.
“I don’t care,” he responds instantly, his voice gruff.
I narrow my eyes at him, raising my brows as a way of telling him to get on with whatever it was he manhandled me for.
“I just needed to say that you better not have a camera in there today.” He ducks his chin sharply down towards my gym bag.
I don’t follow his line of sight, keeping my gaze on his face as my lips curl into a smile.
Ah, yes. I figured this was coming.
I have to say, my little stunt a couple of days ago was risky, but so worth it.
Ben had me going out of my mind. I caught myself out of my usual calm, cool, and collected demeanor. And that’s when it hit me that he could be the perfect thing to photograph.
I’m used to colors and frills. Airiness and earth. Beauty and feeling. Not monochromatic black and athletic wear. Sweat and equipment. Grit and stress.
By the time I got back out of the locker room with my camera in hand and had found a subtle shooting spot behind a workout machine, Ben was just finishing up his final set of bench presses.I snapped one or two photos the best I could before he moved over to the cable machine. He sat down his water bottle when he got there, taking a moment to stretch in a way that looked like something straight out ofSports Illustrated.
It took me a moment after rolling my eyes at how absurdly, infuriatingly good he looked before I snapped myself out of it, remembering the reason I was standing there and lifting my camera to capture the image.
The second I pressed the button, he so perfectly looked away over his opposite shoulder, and though I had approximately zero experience in athletic photography, even I knew that was going to be a fantastic photo. I waited patiently as he took a minute to set up the machine for the exercise and weight he was going for, then took my next picture the moment he pulled down on the cables.
The same moment he turned his head and looked right at me.
I lowered my camera slowly, feeling the knot in my stomach at being caught. When I looked back up again, I saw Ben’s stare trained on me with fire, a single one of his brows raised. My spine steeled as I stood up to my full height. There was no point in trying to hide myself at that point. I’d been busted. The second I gave myself away, my hand with my camera falling to my side, Ben suddenly let go of the cables, the machine's weights smacking together with a loud clang that rang throughout the whole entirety of the gym.
And that was my cue.
I turned around and practically jogged to the women’s locker room.
But not before throwing him a devilish grin over my shoulder.
The photos ended up being great. Especially the one I took right as he caught me. His face was perfectly blurry while the rest of his body was completely in focus in a way that looked soartsy and different from anything I usually do. That photo, along with a few of the other ones that I took where Ben was looking away from the camera or mid-exercise, ended up creating a perfect little mood board of something I would never choose to photograph.
I can’t say that it’s my best work by any means— or anything that I would ever want to do again— but Mr. Hartmann and the rest of the class seemed impressed enough.
“Well? Is there?” Ben pushes, taking a step closer to me.
“A camera?” I ask, playing coy. “Well, I am a photography student–”
“I don’t give a shit,” he cuts me off. “That doesn’t give you an excuse to try to be cute and take pictures of me in the corner like a little freak. I’m not your class project.”
Actually, you are. And, surprisingly, you were a great one.
But he won’t have to worry. Because it’ll never happen again. Bennett James is thelastthing I want to photograph.
I tilt my head at him, twirling a finger through my ponytail. “You think I’m cute?”
He doesn’t answer. His face only grows harder as his gaze burns through me.
I finally roll my eyes. “No cameras today,” I tell him. “Just my panties. Want to see them?”
