I am not a fan of stares. Uninvited eyes always make me think something is wrong with my face or my clothes or something deep inside that suddenly became visible to the world. But eyes were part of the job. A compliment or a curse depending on why someone was looking at you. It was a tightrope between judgment and admiration. But today the stares were not just for the clothes and those particular stares were very pleased by the view.
They were all for Tate, taking him in with unveiled approval as he walked into the light, sporting clothes that made him look both handsome and adorable all in one package. Their eyes snapped to my outfit, smiles growing wider as their glances bounced back and forth between us, taking us in like we were an adorable couple as we stationed ourselves under the lights.
"MY DARLING ALLIE WINTERS!" Michale, the photographer said with a bright smile as he looked me up and down, professional eyes taking in every aspect of my look. "I get to actually shoot the creator today? What a wonderful surprise!"
Before he could even ask, I turned, letting him take in the full outfit. "It's always a pleasure working with you Michale." I came to a stop, waiting to see if anything needed to be changed. But he offered a pleased nod, seeming to say I passed his inspection.
Then he looked over at Tate, his eyes growing minutely wider as he scanned Tate with pleasant surprise. "My my, where have you been hiding this handsome one?"
Before I could say a word, Michale walked up to Tate and gripped his jaw in his fingers, bright rings glistening in the studio lights. Tate stared back at him wide-eyed as Michale tilted Tate's head back and forth in his hand, eyes analyzing his face. "That jaw! Perfection! You could cut fruit on that thing!"
He let Tate's chin go and pulled up Tate's hands, flipping them over. "Goodness. Such long fingers..." He laughed to himself, seeming to edit his thoughts. "Even your nails are well-groomed," Michale said close to drooling. He let go of Tate's hands and motioned for Tate to spin around.
Tate shot me a confused expression. I shrugged. We were under Michale's creative vision now and nothing was going to stop Michale from making sure Tate looked perfect before he began to incessantly snap pictures. Tate spun quickly, coming to a stop and throwing his hands up like a kid who had just performed a magic trick.
I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. That wasn't even remotely close to what Michale wanted.
Michale stared at Tate confused by his quick and comedic take on a clothes assessment turn. "No, no, no." Michale motioned for Tate to turn again. "Turn slowly. I have to see how those jeans fit at all angles." Tate glanced at me again, eyes growing wider.
He very clearly didn't want Michale to stare at his butt while he turned in a slow circle. Yeah, he's never going to drive me anywhere again.
Tate let out an uneasy breath and turned slowly, staring at me with a pointed expression. Yeah... he's quitting after this.
Michale nodded, staring at Tate's butt. "Yes. Fits well..." Michale reached forward. "Oh, you have a piece of lint on yourâ"
Michale's hand moved towards the inside hem of Tate's jeans. "WOAH!" Tate laughed as he jumped out of reach, surprised, yanking a small piece of lint away from his pants. "Buy a guy dinner first!" Tate looked far more flustered than I had ever seen.
Michale placed a hand to his chest, clutching his scarf, an amused grin crossing his face. "Quite jumpy! But if you are asking me out to dinner, I am free."
Tate's mouth fell open, shocked. "I... what... Oh... Um..."
"Michale, you are going to give him a heart attack!" I laughed. "I hate to disappoint you, but we already have plans," I lied, saving Tate from short-circuiting. Tate nodded, fully on board with my lie.
Michale clucked his tongue, continuing to look at Tate. "Shame." Then he adjusted his brown thick-rimmed glasses before walking back towards the camera. "Let's begin!" He clapped his hands, and the room shifted, everyone running to their places, ready to do his bidding and create the illusion that Tate and I were an adorable couple wearing the newest trend.
Here we go...
Tate and I were placed at a table in front of a brick wall across from each other. Place settings sat on the table, and thick lightbulb strands hung above us, giving the illusion that we sat in a casual restaurant. Michale yelled orders at the set dressers as they moved items around us.
"Thank you for saving me back there," Tate said glancing over at Michale who continued to flail his arms as he physically expressed what he wanted from the set dressers.
"Michale isâ" I began, hoping to find a way to ease Tate into the day we were about to have.
"Very hands on?" Tate offered with a grin.
I snorted, utterly surprised by the joke. Shocked, I slapped my hands over my mouth, embarrassed. I hadn't been surprised by a laugh quite like that in years. "Yes."
I lowered my hands. "That was clever."
He leaned back in the chair, stretching out his arms, giving me a clear view of the muscles working under his shirt. "I've been known to be clever."
"Michale is quite taken with you," I teased, pulling my eyes back to his face.
Tate shrugged, shooting me a dangerous grin. "He's got an eye for beauty."
I shook my head. "Cocky much?"
"Just a truth-teller with a healthy self-esteem." He stared down at himself, adjusting his jacket. "This is very comfortable." He ran his fingers over the fabric, taking in his clothes. His inspection made me feel strangely vulnerable. He wore a piece of me in clothes form.
My hands had chosen the material, my fingers stitching the fabric together, taking into account every curve and line of the body. And now he was breathing life into it. Making it feel like he was wearing a love note I had created. It fit him so perfectly that it felt like a very personalized love note.
After a long silent moment where his eyes trailed down himself, he looked up at me. "You are very talented."
And much to my surprise, I blushed. I blushed so furiously that it took me off guard. I hadn't turned that red in years. I felt betrayed by my own creation. Stupid hot clothes.
I hadn't realized how quiet the room had gotten until I heard a set of angry clicks to my left. I turned and spotted Michale crouched nearby shooting a set of candid shots. He had gotten my angry blush as terrifying evidence that Tate had the ability to fluster me to my core. CRAP.
"Just carry on. Go back to talking. This is adorable," Michale said with a wave of his hand as he went back to clicking.
I turned back to Tate. He glanced around the room. "Um... Okay, I spy with my little eyesâ"
Michale groaned. "Don't say useless things! Look into her eyes! Tell her what you see! What you want! What you feel!" More angry clicks filled the room as Michale continued to snap pictures waiting for the results of his demands.
Tate leaned forward, his sharp green eyes looking into mine. I breathed in the wonderful smell of Tom Ford Noir cologne, the wonderful smell of sandalwood wrapped in citrus, jasmine, and orange flower impossibly perfect and impossible to ignore. I held my breath, trying to ignore how many attractive points the smell of it on his skin added to his overall hot value. His score was too high already.
A small smirk overtook his lips and I could tell he was about to tell me a joke. I could see it in the way his eyes sparked with mischief. "I feel... hungry."
Michale's clicking which had been rhythmic, stalled. Confused again by Tate's refusal to fall in line. "For her?" Michale asked hopefully.
Tate smiled wider. "For a deep-dish pizza. When do you think the waiter will come and take our order?" He asked looking around the fake restaurant that had been set up for our shoot.
I pursed my lips, trying not to smile. "This place has terrible service," Tate continued. "Shame. It has great ambiance. But if there isn't food, what's the point?"
I laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. "Don't piss of Michale," I murmured. "We will be here all day if you do."
Tate snatched up the hand I had smacked him with, weaving our fingers together and placing them on the table. "Fine."
I stared down at our hands, my heart struggling to keep a normal pace. I begged my racing heart to slow down. I didn't want him to feel the uptick in my pulse with his fingers tenderly woven with mine. I didn't want him to know how utterly attracted to him I was.
"Good!" Michale said, jumping to his feet from his crouch. "I got what I needed. Let's move them to the couch."
Tate raised a brow. "Couch?"
"Couples snuggle," Michale replied, giving Tate a loaded smile.
"It proves to be a fantastic way to showcase the clothes." Michale motioned towards a loveseat that was already being set up nearby. "Now go sit down, cuddle up, and act like a couple in love..." Michale wrinkled his nose, "not a blind date gone wrong."
He walked away, throwing his scarf over his shoulder with dramatic flair. Tate watched him go. "I can't tell if I should be insulted or not... Did he just say we look like we were on a train wreck of a blind date?"
I pulled my hand out of Tate's. "Telling jokes like that doesn't really give off a 'I am into you' vibe," I said with a wave of my hand.
We walked over to the couch. "Do I need to up my flirting game Ms. Winters?" Tate said in a teasing tone.
I laughed. "I think you confuse joking with flirting? Is such a thing even in your wheelhouse?" I laughed at the idea. "Are you capable of flirting? Of wooing?"
Tate stopped and turned to face me. "Is that a challenge?"
I shouldn't have taunted him. I saw something change on his face. A mischief he was getting ready to unleash on me. Oh my gosh, what did I just do?
But a part of me that was deeply curious, wanted to know what he was capable of. Wanted to know if he could pull off pretending to flirt instead of being a class clown. "Yes," I replied before I could think through the potential consequences. What are you doing Allie!?!
Tate's smile darkened. "As you wish." Then he walked over to Michale, pulling him into a quiet conversation.
Both of their heads turned to look at me. Michale nodded, grinning widely. Oh, I don't like that grin.
"That is a fantastic idea!" Michale agreed.
Then Tate walked over to the couch, removed his leather jacket, and stretched out. I hadn't realized that I had stopped, frozen, suddenly suspicious of the mysterious plan that Michale and Tate had hatched until Tate looked up at me with a playful smile, his dimples flashing and ruining my ability to think properly. "You gonna leave me to cuddle on this couch all by myself?"
Jumping into motion I walked over and followed suit, taking off my own jacket. He had left zero room for me to sit next to him on the couch. "Move over," I hissed, fully aware that everyone was waiting for me to sit down. Watching me trying to figure out what to do with Tate who had completely overtaken the entire couch.
Tate looked up at me, tilting his head to the side in challenge. "Take your pick. Anywhere is fine," he said from under his dusty lashes as he motioned around him in a vague gesture.
I took in an unexpected breath and gritted my teeth. "Okay, I'll sit on the left. Move over."
He shook his head. "Nah. I'm comfortable."
I turned to look at Michale hoping for help. "What side do you want him on?"
Michale laughed. "He's perfectly fine there. Just cuddle up next to him."
I turned to glare at Tate. I'm going to kill them both.
"You are still treating this like a joke," I muttered, trying to decide what to do. What does he expect me to do? Crawl on top of him? I killed the visual before it had fully formed in my mind. Nope. Pass on that terrible idea.
Tate sat up and wrapped an arm around my waist, surprising me. I lost my balance and fell backward, landing on top of the couchâ no on top Tate. My hands splayed out across his chest, face nuzzled against his neck. He was hot to the touch, making it impossible to breathe, to think, to process anything at all.
Oh my gosh, I am going to die of a heart attack.
I tried to scramble back, embarrassed by how close we were, by my reaction to him. But Tate wrapped his arms around my waist, keeping me close in a tight grip against him.
"That better?" Tate murmured in my ear, his breath against my neck, sending goosebumps tickling across my neck.
I pushed up against his chest and looked down at him with what I hoped was a convincing glare. "Is what better?" I stammered.
"You said I was joking." He offered me a dangerous smile, green eyes sharp. "Do I still look like I am joking?"
---
Thank you for reading chapter six! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
Tate is showing an interesting new side to himself... or is he? Is he just messing with Allie? Or is he being serious?
What did he talk to Michale about?
What do you think of Michale?
If Allie thinks Tate is joking, will she call his bluff by trying to embarrass him back?
CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever pranked someone? How did it go?