Caught on Camera (Love Through a Lens, #1)

by Chelsea Curto

(And to the girlies who love the moment in a romance novel when the guy says fuck it. This one is for you.)

YASS I do love that!! 😍🥰

He’s wearing an outfit that tells me he’s either coming from or going to the stadium. Gray joggers. High top sneakers. A long-sleeved T-shirt with the D.C. Titans logo across his chest and a backwards hat.

“Take all the time in the world,” he calls out. “You’re worth the wait.” “Do you use that line on every girl?” “You know there aren’t any girls.”

I glance over at him, and he’s watching me. I’ve tried to ignore it, tried to not think about it, but there’s no point in denying the obvious truth: Shawn Holmes is hot as hell.

Tattooed arms, dark hair, light eyes that border on gray. Six-foot-six, with muscles in places I didn’t know people could be strong. He’s all-around handsome, but his smile is his most devastating characteristic. Wide and bright, it stops you in your tracks. It’s genuine and a little shy, like he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to live a life like this.

I don’t care about his money or his name. He might be a god in the football world, but he’s also the guy who remembers exactly how I take my coffee. I like this side of him best.

“You have to do what’s best for you,” I say. “There’s not a one-size-fits-all happily ever after.”

It’s jealousy, I think, not of the person but of their situation. Of having someone to come home to every night. Someone to share their day with, the good, the bad, and the mediocre moments in between.

Like a clock is ticking, counting down the seconds until I reach a point where it just makes more sense to be alone forever instead of dealing with the headache of dating.

Lacey tilts her head back and laughs, and it’s such a bright sound. It might be below freezing outside, but her laugh is warm. Inviting. Sunshine in human form, and one of my favorite noises.

It’s expressive. Bold and vivacious, just like her. A giant fuck you to anyone who’s ever told her she needs to tone it down, because Lacey laughs like she does everything else in life: without a care in the goddamn world. I like that about her.

it’s like she’s a magnet and I’m metal.

Lacey never fails to catch my eye. If something is going to distract me, I’m glad it’s her.

“He’s a good guy, isn’t he?” “One of the best.”

Aiden treats Maggie right. He loves her loudly and softly, in front of everyone and when no one is watching. I always catch him looking at her, this dopey smile of adoration on his face, like he can’t believe she’s his.

I’ve never had a love like that before. The selfless, all-encompassing type you’re not sure is real because you’re so sickeningly happy, you’re waiting to wake up from a dream. Swept off your feet with butterflies in your chest. Joy and elation and togetherness. Maybe I’ll find it one day.

Shawn spins his finger and I roll my eyes, turning to show him his name on the back of the jersey I’m wearing.

When the huddle breaks and the defense takes the field, he’s still looking at me, and I don’t see an ounce of strain on his face.

I think it’s the knowledge of being close to something. Of knowing if you work just a little harder, put in a little more effort, it can be yours.

Sometimes everything lines up, and magic happens.

Who cares about your Rookie of the Year award when you were Mr. December in a calendar back when you were in college? The bow was a nice touch,” she says. “I’m never talking to you again.” I walk away, ignoring her laughter and quick footsteps to chase after me.

I know it might not mean much, but to me, the panic attacks make you a superhero.” I frown and look over at her. “What do you mean?” “You have the ability to fight off these thoughts of yours, which isn’t easy. You don’t let the negativity win. And if it does win sometimes, that’s okay. That doesn’t make you less. It makes you more. You’re an incredible human learning to juggle the balance between your mental health and being on the field, and I respect you for it.

There’s an ache in my chest when I imagine the thousands of people out there happy, living with their person and content as a clam.

I’ve never wanted to take away someone’s hurt before, but when I see the pain etched into her frown and the way her shoulders curl in, I want to burn the world to the fucking ground.

When she doesn’t pull away, I smile big and wide. She gives me a shy grin in return and I press my lips against hers, kissing my best friend in front of seventy thousand people without a damn in the world, just as snowflakes start to fall from the sky.

He pulls at my bottom lip like he’s claiming it for himself. As if that kiss didn’t just tattoo his name across every inch of my body.

“Lacey girl,” he says, and his voice is low. Rough, and it sounds like my name has been pulled from the trenches of his chest. An exaltation he wants to bellow to anyone who will listen.

Our gazes meet, and there’s fire behind his eyes. A blaze burns in the flecks of gold in his irises. The longer he stares, the longer his attention doesn’t waver, the more I think I’d like the flames to engulf me. Make me one of theirs and never let me go.

“How do you take it? On the rocks?” “Neat,” she says, and I glance up at her, impressed. “And I’ll take three fingers.” “My kind of woman,” I say.

“I never thought of it that way, but you’re right. My thoughts are constantly in overdrive. I like places that… that calm me. That bring me back to earth. That let me know it’s okay to make mistakes because I’m human, just like everyone else, and I’m going to mess up.”

“Your boss sounds like a dick. Want me to buy the hospital and fire him?

“Fuck that guy,” I say fiercely. “Using personal shit in an interview should be off-limits.”

“Should be, but it isn’t. It makes no sense to me; these people want to hound us with their questions, but the second an athlete speaks out about any of the political or social issues happening in our world, we’re told to shut up and just play.”

“I know I can’t stop every nasty article that might be printed about you or tell you to block every asshole comment on your photos on social media. But I promise to protect you from what I can control. When you’re with me, you’re going to be safe, alright?”

“A home isn’t measured by the size of the structure. It’s measured by what’s inside. And I can tell your home has a lot of love.”

“We can’t break tradition,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. He coughs and lets go of me, taking a step back. “A milkshake is exactly what I need right now.”

“Oh, my god. I’m going to hurl a stapler at you if you don’t stop,” I say. He laughs and blows me a kiss on his way out, a gesture that makes my belly swoop low and a smile split across my lips.

“You care about me?” I ask. My voice wobbles, and I sniff. “A whole fucking lot?” “Yeah, Lacey girl,” he says softly, and he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. His thumb traces down my jaw, and my skin feels hot under his touch. “I do. Is that okay with you?” “Yes.” I nod. “That’s okay with me. I care about you, too.”

Perfect, I think. Just like him. Oh, shit.

“Send me your location when you leave tonight?” I blurt out, then I slap my forehead with the heel of my palm. “Just in case.” “Worried about me, Holmes?” she teases, and I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I’m your boyfriend, Lacey,” I say lowly. “Fake boyfriend,” she whispers so softly, I have to press my phone against my ear to hear her.

“Doesn’t matter. Fake. Real. I don’t give a shit. I take care of what’s mine, and right now, you are mine.”

She is mine—not in the literal sense. I don’t own her. She can do what she wants, and she knows that. That woman is as independent and fierce as they come.

I really haven’t smiled this much in years.

“Your smile is my favorite smile.”

“You are? You don’t look really happy. You look kind of constipated.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for… for being a safe place for me. Thank you for letting me be here. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Our relationship might be fake, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else either.

Here with him is magic.

Besides, what would I do with a thousand acres all to myself? You wouldn’t be there, and I’d miss your pumpkin pies.”

Dallas swipes a thumb full of frosting across Maven’s cheek.