Camera Chemistry

Copyright © 2023 by Chelsea Curto Editing: Britt Tayler at Paperback Proofreader Cover Design: Sam Palencia at Ink and Laurel All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum To Mike, who has his own sun tattoo. You keep my days bright. I’m glad we got pancakes. Thanks for being my forever Valentine. CONTENT WARNINGS This is intended to be a fun novella, but it does have a few parts of deep discussion. Within these pages you will find: -Multiple EXPLICIT open-door scenes with on-page sexual content. It is graphic and detailed. If that isn’t your jam, proceed with extreme caution. -Brief discussion of divorce and the mention of infidelity (no on-page scenes or detailed descriptions) -Brief discussion of IVF and infertility (no on-page scenes or detailed descriptions) -Brief discussion of self-consciousness relating to one’s body -Explicit language As always, my DMs are open if you want to chat further. Take care of yourselves, friends. You are loved. CONTENTS 1. Maggie 2. Aiden 3. Maggie 4. Aiden 5. Maggie 6. Maggie 7. Aiden 8. Aiden 9. Maggie 10. Maggie 11. Aiden 12. Maggie 13. Aiden 14. Maggie 15. Aiden 16. Maggie 17. Aiden 18. Maggie 19. Maggie 20. Aiden 21. Maggie 22. Aiden 23. Maggie 24. Aiden 25. Aiden 26. Maggie 27. Aiden 28. Maggie 29. Maggie 30. Aiden 31. Aiden Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Chelsea Curto ONE MAGGIE “I have a proposal for you.” My best friend and photographer extraordinaire, Jeremiah, doesn’t use a proper greeting when I answer his phone call in the middle of my work day, taking a rare moment to catch a breather in the hospital break room. With over two decades of friendship under our belts, the formalities are nonexistent. “Let me finish explaining before you say no.” “If you know what my answer is going to be, why bother asking?” I prop my phone in the crook of my neck and pour a steaming cup of coffee. A single inhale, and I’m rejuvenated, fresh life in my legs after back-to-back surgeries. An ache is forming between my eyebrows, and I use my thumb and forefinger to rub the pain away. “When I had the idea in the shower last night, your name popped into my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” “I’m flattered, but it’ll never work between us. We like the same things.” “Dicks and gin and tonics.” He laughs and the chuckle warms my soul. “Please tell me you didn’t kill someone and that’s why you’re calling from Stockholm Fashion Week. Working with bodies and watching every Law and Order: SVU episode doesn't make me equipped to bury one,” I say. “I wouldn’t be a good fit. I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.” “Your conscience doesn’t allow you to keep a library book for longer than the allotted hold time. Do you honestly think I’d come to you if I needed to cover up a murder?” “Fair point. Okay, if it’s not an ethical dilemma, what is it?” “Did you see the post I shared on my Instagram story?” “No.” I take a sip of the caffeine, savoring the bitterness of the unsweetened beverage. “I’ve been in the OR all day.” “It’s a photo shoot with two strangers. They don’t meet until the day of the session.” “Sounds interesting.” “I want to do one. It’ll be the start of a new series. When I get home, I need a break from all the content I’ve been working on lately. High fashion portraits and runway walks are amazing, don’t get me wrong, but I want to mix it up.” “That’s great, Jer. Your work is so versatile. Adding another component to your portfolio is smart.” “I had this idea for a Valentine’s Day-centered shoot after seeing another photographer do an intimate session with strangers. All consensual, of course. It was a hit, Mags. The internet loved it. For mine, I’m thinking we’ll do flower petals on the floor. Candy hearts scattered across a picnic blanket. We’ll also lean into the sexy side of not knowing the other person. Maybe we can do some tasteful boudoir photos to showcase that formed intimacy. It wouldn’t be provocative, of course. Just enough to create tension the audience craves. I’ll keep it laid-back and fun.” “And you thought all this up in the shower? Impressive.” “Yeah. Which leads me to you. You’re my pick for leading lady, of course. My muse. What do you think?” I’m silent as I process his words. My mug hovers halfway to my mouth, and a drop of forgotten coffee spills on the floor. “Let me make sure I’m understanding this correctly,” I start. I must be hearing him wrong. Maybe I’m suffering from brain fog, and delusion is confusing my auditory receptors. “You’re saying you want me to do a sexy photo shoot with someone I don’t know? In lingerie I don’t own? While eating candy hearts that say ‘LOL’ on them?” “No.” Jeremiah pauses, considers. “Okay, yes, when you put it that way, it’s exactly what I’m saying.” I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. It’s full-on hysteria slanting through the air. I wipe tears from my eyes, the salty tracks staining my cheeks. “Oh my god,” I say through another round of giggles. “The more you talk, the more absurd it sounds. I’m sure the world wants to see my pasty white ass and the extra pounds I’ve been carrying around since Christmas.” “Mags,” Jeremiah interjects. “I know it’s not something you’d normally do.” “It’s not something I’d ever do,” I correct him. “This might be a groundbreaking question, but why not hire someone who knows what they’re doing?” “Because I don’t want professionals,” Jeremiah huffs. “Society sees plenty of edited images on billboards and