Carver was fine with Lina’s ground rules as long as they had this time to see if there was something here. And what if there was? What was he going to do then? Was he prepared to give up his life in Temptation to be here with her? Because he knew that’s what it would take. Lina had always had very high aspirations for her life. She’d talked about them all the time.
“Are you happy here?” he asked, already knowing what her answer was going to be.
"Of course,” she replied as they walked through the International Center of Photography museum. “I used to dream of living in the city, walking down the busy streets, going in and out of shops. The air is so vibrant and energizing.”
She wore a skirt today, fitting tight over her waist and hips, stopping at her knee, and another one of those gauzy blouses that teased at what was beneath. His fingers tingled, and he wished he had his camera so he could snap another picture of her. Part of his morning had been spent going over the shots from yesterday, being pulled completely into pictures of Lina. She sported the smile he knew so well in some and a determined but alluring look in others. It was no wonder he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind all day. Nor had he been able to focus on getting the shots finalized and sent to the RGF reps and preparing to travel back to Temptation.
“I used to dream of you,” he said, because holding back with her was no longer an option. She stopped where she stood and turned to face him. Behind her was a wall of portraits by Tyler Mitchell, a photographer and filmmaker based in Brooklyn. Carver had been an admirer of his work for years and would’ve been totally enamored by his work if Lina wasn’t there to offer a beautiful distraction.
“Why?” she asked, looking at him as if she truly didn’t understand.
He slipped his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, because he desperately wanted to touch her. Yet he told himself to keep his distance, to give her space to decide how she wanted to react to what he was about to say. “Because you were my Lina.” He shook his head and grinned at the sound of what he’d only ever called her in his mind. “You were everything to me. My best friend, my confidante, my biggest critic.”
She grinned then. “You never took your talent seriously. Your pictures could’ve been up here.” She lifted an arm to point at the pictures on the wall. “I begged you to apply to NYU with me. They have great photography classes, and you would’ve been close to all these museums and endless inspiration.”
“You were always my inspiration,” he said. “I wanted to do whatever I could to impress you, or to at least live up to your expectations of me. But in the end, following you to New York seemed more creepy than romantic.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You were my best friend, too.”
“And nothing more?”
When her head tilted, her gaze narrowing on him, Carver prepared himself for the worst.
“I always knew there was something more,” she said and then shook her head. “I just knew it was smarter if we both ignored it.”
“I don’t think that was smart at all,” he said, closing the space between them.
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