“I’d really like to see your shots as well,” he said.
For a second I thought I hadn’t heard him correctly over the music starting for the next act. “Really?”
“Yes. I’m always looking for new talent.”
“Wow.” My voice was nearly a squeak. “Thank you.”
He held out his hand. “Ben Hayes. But it seems like you know who I am.” He didn’t seem arrogant about that at all.
I nodded. My hand felt tiny and chilly in his. “Chelsea Morris.”
“Well, Chelsea, are you going to hang out here and get more shots of the other dance acts? Or are you wandering through the whole event?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” I was slightly shocked that I was able to speak to him without stuttering. He was gorgeous in person, and I had no idea that he was so tall. At least six-three. His shoulders were so wide it was tricky not to stare.
“I have to get to the Ultra Seven exhibit now,” he said. “I’m shooting as a favor for a friend. Want to come with me?”
“Really? I
mean, sure.”
“Maybe we could tag team the performance like we did at this one,” he said with a grin. “Different angles, different styles. Let’s go.”
Ben Hayes was asking me to assist him. To shoot with him. But he was also looking at me with a flirty gleam in his eyes that I was at least twenty percent sure I wasn’t imagining. My hands were fluttering now, and I honestly didn’t know if I’d be able to hold myself together.
“Just one second,” I said quickly, sending Dale a text so that he knew I was leaving.
“Is that dancer guy your boyfriend?” Ben asked.
An awkward laugh burst out like a cough. “No. Very old friends.” He instantly seemed relieved, which created a warm sparkle in my core.
“Can’t be that old,” Ben chuckled, leading me out the back gate and down an alley. “You’re what...” He stared into my eyes for a moment. “Twenty-four?”
“Twenty-one,” I whispered. He was so close to me that I could smell a slightly spicy fragrance, mixed with a distinct male scent that made me want to lean closer.
As we walked down the alley, he pulled out a flask. “Whiskey. I’m not a huge drinker, but when I’m out for long shoots at night, one slug now and then keeps me warm.”
He took a pull, then offered the metal bottle to me. I took the tiniest sip out of curiosity. The liquid burned down my throat, nearly making me go cross-eyed, but I did feel the warmth in a moment.
Ben laughed. “Not your drink, is it?”
“I’m not really a drinker, at all,” I confessed.
“Then you’re cut off already,” Ben teased, flashing me a wink as he put away the flask and we turned onto the street.
There was a huge commotion, and although my instinct was to cringe away from loud noises and crowds of people, Ben went straight toward it, taking my arm so we couldn’t be separated. “This is the exciting part,” he said with a huge grin. “We never know what might happen.”
He was absolutely right. A photographer should always be scanning for a shot. I just couldn’t help that I was shy around crowds of people. Although I knew they weren’t aggressive, it was just a bunch of artsy people partying, it still seemed like a lot of big energy that I didn’t know how to handle.
Before I knew what was happening, Ben had taken my hand and pulled me up onto a bench next to the main street. There was a parade float coming toward us, blasting music with people dancing all around it.
“The mobile dance party,” Ben said, already taking shots. “I heard about this.”
Checking my feet, I planted myself to make sure I had a solid foundation. Jamming my lens cap in my pocket, I surveyed the scene before raising my camera.
“Hey,” Ben said, “How about I get the wide-angle shots, and you get close-ups of people dancing?”
“Sure,” I said, already adjusting my zoom and starting to shoot.