Love Me: The Complete Series (63 page)

Amazing how the oil still seemed to find places to hide. She soaped out her ears and armpits, then shampooed her hair for the fifth time. Once satisfied, she dressed, grabbed the camera, and headed for campus. A quick glance at her cell showed a text message from Roger with instructions to meet at the Wing Stop next to campus in a couple hours. She smiled and thumbed an affirmative response.

It was perfect weather for an outdoor photo shoot. Some people are naturally photogenic. Others require a lot of work. Her first two people were tough, not because they weren’t attractive. In all honesty, she rarely found anyone who couldn’t be attractive in a picture. No, these two seemed to have their minds made up on how the pictures should look. It took a lot of patience and convincing before they’d let
her
call the poses and backgrounds.

“You’re good at this.” The first girl focused on her silhouette against the backdrop of the student union. The lighting cast dark shadows across her cheeks, enhancing the fullness of her lips. She was a slightly large girl, and the shadows emphasized her beautiful face rather than focusing on her fullness. It was perfect.

“Thanks.” Caroline flipped a card over and scribbled down information on the back. “You can view the proofs at this website after ten p.m. tomorrow. I’ll need half the cost today, the rest once you choose which package you’d like to have. Also, check out some of the gift items on the website—your parents might like a frame or something.” Caroline’s first client left happy.

The second girl tried to pose at the onset. It was obvious she was nervous—and that her clothes weren’t designer, which was refreshing. She was honored the girl had chosen her—even more so after learning she was the last of five siblings and the only one to graduate. The picture would mean a lot to her parents, and Caroline had to do the job justice.

Caroline handed her a photo book under the guise of choosing a “look,” then, while the girl focused, she clicked away, snapping shot after shot. A cap and gown lay in the background waiting for her. The girl’s fantastic chestnut hair fell over one shoulder in a gentle blanket of brilliance. After the girl handed the photo book back and explained her preferences, Caroline suggested she walk for a few steps and shot several more frames. Perfect. They added the cap and gown for a few more before reviewing the images.

Another satisfied customer. Once the girl was gone, Caroline tucked the check into her pocket, praying it wouldn’t bounce. With most of the students she dealt with, there was a fifty-fifty chance their bank balance wouldn’t cover the work. Regardless, there was satisfaction in knowing she’d recorded their special life moments. She labeled the camera’s memory stick with the name, date, and file number, then loaded an empty memory stick for the next session. The fall wind caught her hair and tossed it into her eyes. She should have tied it back, but there hadn’t been time this morning.

“Well, well. If it isn’t polka dot panties,” a mocking voice called out from behind her.

She whirled around to face the source of the comment. Uh-oh. It was Roger’s frat brother, Nathan—the one dumped by the fancy bathing suit chick.

“Technically, it wasn’t panties but a bra. Hi. I’m Caroline.” She held out a hand but stepped back a half-step. The guy was in her face.

He snickered. “Details, details. Looked great to me.”

Her face flooded with heat. Why was she dying to wipe that smirk to China? Maybe it was the way he’d ran his eyes slowly up and down her body, stopping chest-high as if imaging the bra. She shuddered. “I’m working at the moment, so I can’t talk. Maybe you could come back later?”

His gaze floated over her shoulder and focused on something at her back. She forced herself not to look. He squinted. “You’re working here?”

“Yes, I’m a photographer. I’m waiting on my next client, a Mr., um ...” She glanced at her schedule.

“Nathan Chenton.”

She felt her eyes widen. “You?” Oh,
shit.

He grabbed her forearm, rubbed a thumb along her skin, and winked. “That’s me.”

Vomit surged into her throat. He winked? Seriously? And what was with the thumb massage?
So
gross and stupid. “Okay, then. Hang on a second while I change my battery. This one’s almost dead.” Caroline pulled free, turned, and reached into her camera bag.

“I’d like to charge your batteries—just say when.”

Heat burned like lava in her cheeks. He did
not
just say that. She peered over her shoulder and saw that he had oddly crouched down. Was he seriously trying to look up her skirt?
It was laughable—especially considering it wasn’t a skirt but a skort—but he was acting just so ... high school. She whirled around and dropped a hand on her hip. So that was how it would be, huh? Okay, no problem. She’d dealt with his type before. She could handle the likes of one smartass spoiled college guy with a giant ego.

“Just curious, um, Nathan, but I lost you after the party the other night. I was so wrapped up—and I mean
wrapped tightly up
—with Roger that I didn’t get a chance to seek you out and say how much I enjoyed the whole thing. What a great idea for a party.”

He blinked, clearly not sure if she was issuing a compliment or insult. Good, she had him confused. She lifted the camera and clicked. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I wasn’t ready.”

She put on her sweetest smile. “That makes two of us then. You snuck up on me, and I snuck up on you. Imagine that. So ... about that battery charging thing.” She kept the camera plastered to her face and watched.

He dropped the swagger for a second and stared into the distance.
Click. Click. Click.
“Don’t I get a warning or something? Can’t I at least smile for you?”

She shrugged. “Why? A smile is so ... ” She bit her lip before the word
phony
slipped from her mouth. “Predictable.” She dropped the camera and tossed her hair from her eyes. The wind kindly whipped it back. “You know,” she said, “you could be one of those male models. Have you ever thought of doing that?”

Sure, it was about as full of shit as a cow pasture, but it worked. He dropped the swagger and gave her a normal smile, not one of his hey-come-bed-me faces.
Click. Click.

But then his face went sober. With two steps her way, Nathan reached for the camera. “I don’t like the way this is going. Can we just talk for a few minutes? Put that down.”

Caroline jolted backward and tripped over her bag. She held her hands up to save the camera, but she fell flat on her ass.
Ouch.
That would leave a bruise. “Don’t touch my equipment please.”

He reached for her arm. “I wasn’t going to touch your ... equipment. Or anything else. I just wanted to talk. I thought maybe we could go get a drink or something.”

What? Wait a minute. Had he seriously thought she’d go out with him after taking the shots?

“Nathan, what the hell are you doing here?” Roger’s voice rang out in the distance.

Nathan dropped Caroline’s arm and lurched around. “Oh, hey man. I’m getting my senior pictures taken. She ... fell.”

Roger sidestepped around Nathan and reached out a hand. “You okay, gorgeous?” He waited with fingers extended as Caroline surveyed the situation. Part of her was worried that he had decided to check up on her at work. But she was amused that he’d interceded when Nathan knocked her over. Was he jealous?

She met his eyes, noting the way they darkened to deep ebony.
Oh, my God, he is.

She grabbed his hand and lurched to her feet, then wiped the grass from her skort. “I’m great. I thought we were meeting later.” Somewhat relieved to see Roger, she still frowned. She didn’t need a rescuer; she could handle her own problems.

“We were, but I realized The Wing Stop is closed on Sundays, and I thought I’d just stop by and wait. Then I saw Nathan here and—well, it seemed okay. Is it? Okay?” He looked confused.

Nathan patted his shoulder from behind. “Not really. We were just getting started. Get lost, Freeman.”

The only thing he could possibly start at the moment was his exit strategy. Caroline really didn’t care for Nathan. Sure, his girlfriend—scratch that—ex-girlfriend had been a bitch, but he wasn’t exactly a pot of gold either. He was as slimy and greasy as that jungle-gym tube from the night before. She peeked at Roger, noting the uncertainty behind those brown eyes. He was unsure whether to stay or go—whether he’d interrupted something personal or business-focused. She clicked the flash off and dropped the camera to her side, giving him a laser-beam smile. “You know, I think I twisted something when I fell. Mind if we take a rain check, Nathan? Call this number and we can set up another time.” She flashed another business card his way, thankful she’d set up an answering service.

Nathan blinked and glanced from her to Roger then back. “Seriously?”

She nodded, her gaze focused on Roger. “Seriously.”

Without warning, Roger leaned in and kissed her. Not one of the quick “hello” type pecks either—it was a long, deep, tonsil-lashing kiss that made her completely forget their audience.

“Okay then.” Nathan’s voice brought them both back to reality, and Roger stepped back. She could have sharpened a knife on the daggers Nathan shot at Roger before striding away. Roger watched him leave, then turned toward her and dimpled up. “Looks like I might be ousted from the house soon. Good thing I’m a senior.”

“You know, I can handle his type.”

“I’m sure you can, Caroline, but I’m not so sure I want you to. He’s ... slick.”

She tapped a finger to his nose and whispered. “I vaguely remember you being
very
slick last night. And you shouldn’t talk about one of your fraternity brothers that way.”

His dimples didn’t show. “I don’t mean that kind of—”

Was he seriously about to give her a lecture on how to handle guys? She wasn’t ten. “Speaking of slick, it took almost an entire bottle of shampoo to get that stuff out of my hair. Please tell me your kitchen doesn’t cook with that stuff. Imagine what it’d do to your insides. Wherever we go to eat, I think I’m done with fried foods. How about salad?”

He lifted a brow.

“Okay, no salad. How about barbecue?”

“Sounds perfect. Maybe afterward we could throw Nathan on the pit, too.” He hoisted the camera bag over a shoulder and grabbed her hand.

Two weeks later, Caroline rose from her seat in World Journalism class with a weight in her stomach. Two more weeks and they’d be off for the holidays. Winter break. One more semester closer to graduation.

“Ms. Sanders, may I have a moment?” Mr. Dennis, her instructor, called as she approached the door.

She turned. “Sure, what’s up? I know I didn’t do as well as hoped on the final, but—”

He held up a palm to silence her. “It’s not that. I wanted you to take a look at this.” He passed her a paper. “They’re going to post it next week, but I thought of you when I read it. You mentioned wanting to do a traveling internship, right?”

Caroline read through the notice, which described a new website that advertised available internships abroad. She nodded. “Wow, thanks so much for thinking of me. What an opportunity.”

“Yes, it is. I hope you find something and submit quickly—usually the first ones get a little more consideration.”

The words sunk in further. He’d essentially just given her first dibs on any internship available.
Holy crap.

“Yes, sir. Absolutely. I’ll start looking tonight.”

He frowned and shot one last instruction before he rushed to his office. “Whatever you choose ... do a good job.”

She hoped it would be good enough.

As she spotted Roger waving from outside the door, a small stone of uncertainty developed within her. She’d always planned on leaving, following her father’s trail, but was that the right thing for her? Roger’s welcoming dimples gave her confusing feelings about her future plans.

The fact that he’d waited for her made her feel safe. She wasn’t sure how they’d evolved into—something. They just had. With no planning and zero effort, Roger had fallen into her life along with his clumsy dog. They’d simply showed up again on her step—over and over. First, he had come to replace the broken planter, then to fix her chair. After that, to get advice on a new camera. Another time to show her pictures from the party—she cringed at the way her damp clothing had revealed her boyish shape.

Each time they talked for hours while Conan lounged against their legs or rolled over to offer his massive chest for a massage. After a few days, she suggested they walk him around the campus and test his training. The dog flirted with every passerby, and he became so popular that on their fourth walk, one student even threw him a rawhide.

Roger wasn’t really a boyfriend, but he was more than just a friend. They had begun “semidating” despite their pending graduation in the spring—only six months away. The realization brought Caroline an intense, tight panic. She didn’t need this, not now—and the last thing she was ready for was a man who expected things of her. Someone who could trip her up while she planned her future. Her career. Her dream of becoming a journalist. She glanced at the paper in her shaking hand. The perfect opportunity—right within reach—and her instructor had thought her worthy enough to get a first shot.

She blinked. Being with Roger was easy, comfortable, and she craved him like she craved Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. She didn’t need him in her life—he was a distraction—but God help her, she
wanted
him.

“Everything okay?” he asked when she joined him outside the classroom.

“Perfect.” She slid the paper inside her backpack and tossed it over a shoulder as they headed for his car.

After the first TKE frat party, Caroline was apprehensive about going with Roger to another, but he’d insisted. Still, she made a point of knowing the theme before agreeing to be his date. She surveyed her outfit and leaned toward the bathroom mirror to apply lip gloss and glitter. After all, Tinker Bell was covered in sparkle, right? A holiday sparkle-costume party sounded a lot less hazardous than the slippery ball-and-chain event. What could possibly go wrong with sparkle and glitter?