Camera Chemistry (Love Through a Lens, #0.5)

by Chelsea Curto

“Chivalry isn’t dead. It’s merely disguised as impressively sized dicks.”

“Hi,” I say. My voice wobbles and I clear my throat. “I’m Maggie Houston.” “Hi, Maggie Houston. I’m Aiden Wood.” He ends his introduction with a full smile, and I think I melt.

The touch is innocent, yet it seems significant. Some monumental blip in history happening in a warehouse outside the city center as snow falls from the sky. I stare at where we’re joined, unable to let go. I’m not sure I want to. Aiden doesn’t release me from his hold or pull away, either. I think we’ve fused ourselves together, a cement casing binding us.

“You can stay, Maggie.” Fuck, her name is like an exaltation from angels.

I’m genuinely interested to hear what Maggie has to say, eager to learn more. Testing the waters, I scoot closer to her. As I do, I smell ripe oranges. It’s intoxicating. Fresh. Sweet. When I subtly inhale and try to savor the scent, I realize I’m totally and completely fucked.

Aiden Wood, a man I’ve known exists for a shorter amount of time than it takes me to get to and from work, has loudly and unequivocally made me feel more wanted, more special in fifteen minutes than others have over half a decade.

If she keeps looking at me with her mouth parted and her pupils blown wide, like she needs me to survive and is seconds away from launching herself into my arms, I’m a fucking goner.

Maggie’s laugh tumbles out of her like spilled wine. It’s popped champagne at New Year’s Eve with gold confetti around us, sticking to our sweat-covered skin. It’s iridescent and all consuming, a sound I want—I need—to bottle up and replay on my worst days.

I’m invigorated, spilled oil waiting to go up in flames, and Aiden is the one holding the match. I’m ready to welcome the heat.

“Maggie,” he says. The tone is reserved for repenting sinners, making a deal with a deity for eternal salvation. And he’s using it on me. “You are so beautiful.”

Seven billion people in the world, and all I see is him.

Aiden Wood kisses like a man possessed, someone living their last day on Earth.

“Ten hours with you, and you’re already one of my favorite people. Scary, isn’t it?”

Maggie is like a drug, the kind that can ruin your life; one hit, I want to do it again. Two hits, I’m an addict.

I let Maggie and Aiden be who they are, and that’s where the chemistry happened. They were so dynamic, and easier to photograph than a lot of the professionals I’ve worked with, because they connected so well.”

“I meant what I said the other night. I’ve missed you an unthinkable amount. More than anyone should after just a few hours with someone, but it’s the truth.”

I don’t think I’ll get over how right she fits in my arms. Like a piece of myself—my soul—was missing until she pressed herself against me. And now I’m whole.

My life was boring until I met you. Now all I see are colors, and light, and your beautiful, perfect face. I want you, Maggie Houston, however you’ll have me, for the rest of my life.”