Broken Truths (The Frayed Trilogy 2)

Chapter Eighteen

EMERY

Sebastian pulls his car up in front of a small studio-type building and parks the car. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing yet?” I ask, excitement fluttering through me. Apart from not letting me wear underwear,which I’m all too aware of now, his only other stipulation was that I bring my camera.

A grin breaks out on my face at the thought of him imagining me walking around the shopping mall with no underwear, where in reality, I probably only took them off about ten minutes before he showed up. Apparently, wearingwetunderwear is actually not that comfortable, although I had no idea he would react the way he did, and I don’t have the urge to correct his presumptions.

“What are you smiling at?” he asks, turning to face me.

“You.”

“Mmm… really?” He leans in and plants a kiss on my lips.

“Mm-hmm,” I mumble when he pulls back. However, all this thinking about underwear has my mind going back to the lingerie shop. “Did you know there’s such a thing as crotchless panties?” I ask.

Sebastian makes a sound in his throat, followed by a cough. Then another before thumping a hand against his chest. “What the hell made you think of that?” he asks, staring at me.

“Well, Lauren—”

“For the love of God, please don’t say anything else,” Sebastian rushes out, cutting me off. “I can’t hear those two things in the same sentence.”

“But—”

“Grace, I’m serious.” Sebastian groans. “Don’t say anything else about crotchless panties unless it’s to tell meyoubought some.”

I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face at his reaction. Who knew all it took to break Sebastian was to talk about Lauren’s underwear?

“Let’s go, or you’ll be late,” he says before getting out of the car.

I’llbe late?

After getting out of the car, I follow him up to the studio’s door we parked in front of. Immediately, I’m drawn to the portrait prints hung around the room when we enter the space.

“What is this place?” I ask, spinning around as I try to take it all in. The style of the photography seems familiar, but I can’t quite place it.

“You guys made it,” says a cheery voice, and I turn to see a woman walking towards us. Her deep bronze skin gleams under the studio lights and mocha highlights run through her long dark hair. She looks familiar, and with another glance at the photographs hanging around the room, I snap my gaze back to her.

“Hi, you must be Grace.” She holds out her hand with a smile that shows off a perfect set of white teeth. “I’m Naomi.”

Naomi Mitchell.The same Naomi from the book at the café by Sebastian’s penthouse. My mouth opens and closes, trying to find my voice, as I take her outstretched hand in greeting, but the best I can do is nod.Wait. How could Sebastian have known about her? What’s going on?

Sebastian clears his throat. “Well, I should leave you to it. I think I’d only get in the way if I stuck around,” he says, his lips lifting at the corners.Wait, leave us to what?His smile deepens as he takes in the confusion on my face, and he wraps an arm around my waist before pulling me to him. “Have fun,” he whispers in my ear and presses his lips to my temple, then he leaves the small studio.

I stare after him, still stunned and trying to figure out what’s happening until I remember that Naomi is still standing in front of me, and I spin back around.

“He must really care for you,” she says, glancing towards where he left. “I don’t normally do one-on-one sessions, but let’s just say he wasverypersistent.” She lets out a soft laugh while I try to take in all the information.Sessions?“Sebastian showed me some of your work, and I have to say, you have some raw talent.”

“He did?” I ask, finally finding my voice. God, I hope he didn’t show her any of the photographs I took of him.

“He did, and he seemed quite proud to show them off,” she says, and I glance outside to where Sebastian’s car sits still parked in front of the studio. “But he wasn’t wrong. You are talented, Grace.”

“Really?” I ask, my mouth dropping open.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Regardless of whether I’m being paid or not,” she says, a warm feeling flutters in my stomach. “Now, how would you like to learn some new tips and tricks?” She grins, and I find myself smiling back.

“I’d love to.”

The feeling of having my camera back in my hands is like getting back a piece of myself I’d lost. Not only is photography something I’m passionate about, but it also sparks the only connection I have to my mum. Both were things I was feeling lost without.