Page 42 of Finding Haven (Haven #2)
Quinn
“Zack, as in Zack Mercer ?” Hailey exclaims, her face painted in shock. Heat blooms on my cheeks. Is it really that surprising that Zack and I are together?
“Is there another Zack that we don’t know about?” Chelsea asks through a soft laugh. Becca is sitting beside me with her mouth pulled into a knowing smile as she shakes her head at me. She’s the only one here who knows about my side hustle on Frisk.
“Well, no. But…” Hailey says, the bridge of her nose scrunching. “I’ve known the guy for like five years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him date someone. I’ve really only ever seen him talk to co-workers. Like the guy avoids relationships of any kind.”
Maybe the Zack Mercer she’s describing is the man I met a couple of months ago at the bar, but it’s not the one I’ve fallen in love with.
The man I first met was cold and guarded.
He hardly made eye contact with me, let alone even looked in my direction.
I didn’t think I had made any kind of impression on him.
But the man I know now, the one who means more to me than I ever imagined someone would, has a vibrancy about him that pulls me in every time I look at him.
His eyes light up when he smiles or laughs, he finds little ways to show me that he cares about me, and he sees me in a way nobody else ever has .
“He’s amazing,” I say simply with a slow shrug of my shoulder.
He does things for me that I didn’t even realize I wanted or would appreciate in a partner.
He takes care of me, like truly takes care of me.
I’ve been wanting to prove I can be independent for so long that I didn’t realize I wanted a partner to depend on.
Any time he takes me somewhere new to eat, he surprises me with the nutritional information for the meals he knows I’d like the most or makes sure the information is readily available to make dosing insulin easier for me.
He checks on me and makes sure that I’m remembering to eat when he knows I’m busy working.
He’s stocked his home with extra supplies for me, just so it’s one less thing I have to remember to bring with me when I stay over.
“I want all the details! How did you guys even meet?” Chelsea asks.
“We met at the Elysian Bar,” I say with a laugh.
“I was actually there because this one”—I nudge Bex—“convinced me to go on a blind date. It was terrible. He gave me weird vibes, and he kept trying to push me to order a drink. I had to use the excuse of needing to use the restroom just to get away from him.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Hailey chimes. “You were out on a date with someone else and ended up meeting Zack?”
“How the heck did that happen?” Chelsea laughs.
“You gotta tell them alllll of it,” Bex says, smiling as she nudges me back.
I dive into the story about how the date with Jeremy had been a disaster, how I came out of the restroom to find him nowhere in sight but instead found a handsome stranger sitting at the bar alone.
I tell them about how there was a spark between us even then, but I left the bar without telling him my name.
Before I have a chance to overthink it, I’m telling them about my boudoir photography business, how it sort of led to my account on Frisk, and how I found out about Zack being my top subscriber the day Austin took us all to play laser tag.
By the time I finish, all three of them are staring at me, bright smiles across their faces.
“That’s insane!” Hailey laughs. “I’m jealous. I’m so sick of dating assholes who aren’t worth my time.” She sinks back against the couch, crossing her arms over her chest.
Chelsea pokes Hailey in the arm. “You know how to fix that,” she says. “You gotta stop being scared and just do it.”
“I can’t. It’s not worth losing him as a friend,” Hailey says.
“Losing who as a friend?” I ask, eyes flicking between the two of them.
I’ve only been around Hailey a handful of times, but her comment makes me think about the way she made it a point to wrap up a few Snickerdoodle cookies for Ethan at the barbecue.
And now that I think about it, they were a little flirty during laser tag and sat awfully close at the bonfire.
But as far as I know, Chelsea, Hailey, and Ethan have all been friends for years.
Chelsea gives Hailey a look, silently urging her to tell us.
“Ethan,” Hailey confirms. “Every guy I try to date falls short because none of them even come close to making me feel the way Ethan does. Other than Chelsea, he’s the only one who’s always been there for me, no matter what.
” Her voice softens as she talks about him, and it makes my heart ache for her.
I can’t imagine wanting someone for that long and not being able to say or do anything about it.
“You two are both idiots,” Chelsea mumbles under her breath, making Hailey’s brows pinch in her friend’s direction.
“I’d be willing to bet that he has feelings for you, too.
He’s never been in a serious relationship, and I’ve never heard him talk about another girl.
And the way that man looks at you… He doesn’t see anyone else, Hails,” Chelsea says with a gentle smile.
“But what if you’re wrong?” Hailey murmurs.
“What if I’m not?” Chelsea counters.
The room is quiet for a few minutes before Chelsea breaks the silence. “So, boudoir photos, huh? Do you ever photograph friends?”
An hour later, our living room has been transformed into an impromptu studio.
We took down any personal pictures hanging on the walls or decorating the shelves, moved the furniture around until the sunlight streaming in through the windows was hitting it just right, and Chelsea and Hailey stripped down to their underwear or changed into lingerie.
Becca did their hair and makeup, and having been a model for me more times than I can count, is being an amazing hype girl.
My boudoir playlist is on in the background as I direct Chelsea into a pose, demonstrating how I want her to position her legs and arch her back over the edge of the couch from where she sits on the floor.
The sunlight is hitting her from the side, creating the perfect shadows to highlight the curves of her body.
“I know these are for my brother, but damn, you look hot,” Hailey says to Chelsea as she holds the pose.
“I sure hope so because this shit feels awkward,” Chelsea laughs, relaxing after I’ve snapped a couple different angles of the pose.
“Some of them definitely feel weird, but I promise I wouldn’t make you pose in an unflattering way. You look amazing,” I say, loading a preview of the pose on to the back of the camera for her to see .
“Holy crap. That’s me? How did you make me look like that?
” Chelsea asks, stunned. It’s a reaction I’ve heard more often than not.
Most women don’t see themselves as beautiful or powerful, and sometimes, all it takes is showing them who they are from a different perspective.
Yes, their hair and makeup have been done, they’re dressed in lingerie or wearing only their underwear, and I’m guiding them through flattering poses for their body types, but the magic is entirely them.
The stretch marks, dimples, freckles, scars, and curves of their bodies are real and unedited.
“This is what you look like, Chels. You’re beautiful,” I tell her, my cheeks beginning to ache from how much I’ve smiled tonight. Every time I pick up my camera and use it to help someone see just how incredible they truly are, my passion for boudoir photography grows exponentially.