Page 24 of Curvy Crush
“Oh, Paxton?”
I nod. “Yeah, he wanted something for the bookstore. It’s turning out pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
“I can’t wait to show you the images from today.”
“Was there a line of girls in the studio today, or did I imagine that?”
Lola laughs and shakes her head. “Yes, I photographed a whole dance team. How in the world could you imagine sixteen girls?”
I laugh and shrug. “No idea. I was in the zone. I just felt someone watching me.”
She laughs. “And you thought it was your imagination?”
“I don’t understand how my creative brain works.” I throw my hands in the air, making her laugh harder.
We finish our lunch and head back to the studio hand in hand. Moments after we enter, she calls out for me and I head back to see what’s going on. She’s sitting at the computer desk and has something pulled up on the screen.
“Check this out.”
I bend down behind her and view the image on the screen. There’s a black backdrop and it’s a picture of a dancer doing some kind of flip. She’s covered in flour and it’s flinging in all directions, following her movements. It looks really awesome.
“Whoa, that’s cool.”
She smiles and nods. “Mm-hmm. Look at this one.”
In the second image, there are three different girls on the screen, all moving in opposite directions, flour following their every move. It’s beautiful, elegant, and perfect.
“These are amazing, baby.” I lean down and press my lips to hers. To my surprise, her arms wrap around my neck and she pulls me closer. I pull back. “You know what you’re asking for doing this, right?”
She smiles and nods. “Mm-hmmm. I’m all done with clients for the day. The studio is all ours.”
“That’s all you had to say.” I smash my mouth against hers and pull her down in the floor that’s still dusted with flour. Before either of us can pull any clothes off, we’re covered in a white dust, but neither of us care because we have everything we could ever want and I know the rest of our lives will be spent just as happy and in love as we are right now.
Epilogue
LOLA
Every day with Evan is better than the last. I never thought I’d ever be this happy. I moved in with him a little over eight months ago and figured, why not? I was practically living at his place anyway. I packed up my house and my little she-shed of a studio and have invaded every aspect of his life. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He’s been very welcoming to me and my needs. He even cleared out closets, drawers, empty rooms to store everything I had jammed into my tiny place, and has given me full control to decorate how I want. The biggest win for me: I put my TV up in the living room above the fireplace, even though I don’t watch it much now thanks to wanting to spend every minute with him.
Our days are storybook perfect. We wake up together and always spend a few extra minutes in bed. We don’t always spend it having sex, though. Sometimes we just touch, or kiss, or cuddle. We talk and make sure the other knows how much they mean to us. Then we shower together. Evan makes breakfast every day. We come to work together; he even gave me my own little section of studio. It’s bigger than my she-shed and I’m able to do much more detailed shoots here. His paintings have been selling like hotcakes online and it’s almost like being married to a celebrity. Sometimes a buyer will come to the studio to pick up their purchases, and they’re always so happy to meet the brilliant mind who painted their canvas.
The best part about it all, though, is that even though we’re not married yet, I already know that the rest of our lives are set in stone. I trust him with my whole heart and couldn’t imagine ever being without him again. It’s crazy how a little two-week job brought me to the beginning of the rest of my life. A life that’s becoming more and more full by the day.
We’re at the studio again and I poke my head in the office. “I have to run to the post office and drop off this package. You need anything while I’m out?”
“Nope, I’m good.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a few. Love you.”
“Love you,” he replies as I start walking out.
I push out the door and let it slam closed for old times’ sake. The day is hot and the sun is high in the sky as I walk down the block for the post office. I pass by the bookstore and bump into Stella.
“Oh, hey.”
“Lola, how are you?” she asks, pulling me in for a hug.
“Good, where’s the baby?”
