Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 149982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 750(@200wpm)___ 600(@250wpm)___ 500(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 750(@200wpm)___ 600(@250wpm)___ 500(@300wpm)
The one.
I’m the creator of a show—a show about us, and my soul is already rooted in the film before the camera has rolled.
He shakes his bowl. “So verdict?”
“Keep your nuts.”
He grins at the slight innuendo, and I dig a hand into the bowl. “This is about showing the real us. Plus, I have the best sound equipment that money can buy.”
“Legitimately impressed that I married a billionaire.” He touches his chest.
I slip him a smile.
“But you might want to spend some of that trust fund on a bigger apartment, Highland. You still don’t fit in this one.”
I laugh as I readjust one of the boom arms. “I’m surprised you never asked why I live in this apartment, since you know I have the trust fund.”
He sinks down onto the couch, bowl on his lap. “I didn’t need to ask. I figured out why.”
My brows shoot up. “Really?”
“Really, Long Beach, you might surprise me a lot, but you are my husband. You’re not that big of a secret anymore.” His smooth confidence draws me in. Curly strands of hair touch his forehead, and he brushes them back. “You work so much. Most the time you’re either at the WAC offices or on a shoot. In your head, there probably wasn’t a big reason to upgrade from a shoebox when you’re just here to shower and pass out.”
My smile hurts my face. It’s not just that Oscar knows me, but it’s the certainty behind it. Like there’s no doubt in his head that he could be wrong.
“But I have been thinking about upgrading the apartment.” I slip behind one of the cameras and adjust the focus. I’ve got three different cameras positioned around the living room to give me varying shots.
His eyes widen. “Finally worried that the ceiling fan is going to knock you out? Because I’ve been eyeing that thing since the first time I stepped foot in here.”
I let out a soft laugh, still standing and working on the boom. “No, I just figured we’re married, dude.”
Humor drains from his face replaced by that serious side that I’ve come to love. He sets aside the snack bowl and wraps an arm around the couch like his whole attention is mine.
“Explain, Long Beach.”
“We’re married.” I open my hands.
“You said that already. I’m waiting for the description.”
“Hold on,” I say and purposefully glance down at the camera’s screen to drag this out. He makes a noise while I take my sweet time focusing, adjusting, and making sure that his beautiful face is perfectly framed.
“Arizona, if you don’t get your ass over here.”
I break into a bigger grin. No lie, whenever he calls me Arizona, it feels like he’s packaging the state and giving me a gift.
“I’m coming, just not too fast,” I tell him. Feeling his grin behind me as I lock in the settings, click record, and sink down on the couch next to him.
Our knees knock together, turned into one another, and we both have an arm atop the couch.
“We’re recording?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I smile. “Something tells me we’ll have the best blooper reel.”
“Oh, by far.” He chews on a cracker nut. “Best blooper reel, best show, best honeymoon.” At our post-engagement-elopement party, we spun the globe in the penthouse’s library and randomly landed on our honeymoon destination.
At first it was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. We spun again and ended up on land. We came back from Auckland, New Zealand yesterday.
And I should’ve said that on camera. I should be addressing the camera. Looking straight ahead for the interview. But this is just as strange for me. To be on the other side of the lens.
I just start where we left off talking.
“Both of us have jobs that make us travel, which means we’ve never really talked about moving in together,” I tell him the obvious. “Because what does that mean for guys like us? We’re basically living together already, right? When we’re in Philly, we sleep here. When we’re in New York, we sleep at your studio. When we’re fuck-knows-where, we sleep there.”
Oscar can’t contain his smile.
He definitely knows where this is going.
I continue on, “So I figure, the only way for us to actually feel like we’re living together as husbands would be to sell my apartment and get a place together in Philly. Even if we’re never there, it’s still ours.” I search his eyes. “How does that sound?”
He nods. Love swells between us. “Sounds like our future. I’m there.”
I’m grateful for the camera as it captures the light in Oscar’s eyes in this second, this perfect frame of time.