Page 12 of Snapping the Ice
“Okay.” I tapped Gagnon on the arm. “Hey, I’m going to stop in at the studio today, so I’ll see you there.”
Gagnon nodded. “You need more shoot?”
“Yeah, I need more shoot.” Shaking my head, I chuckled softly and followed Crosby across the rink. I hadn’t told Crosby about my plans yet.
“Why are you visiting the studio today?” He stopped at our section of the ice, his gaze meeting mine.
“I spoke to my brother and his husband last night about what we saw. They think I should try to help Ezra.” As my pulse fluttered, I breathed in deeply. Ezra had filled my head constantly throughout the night. I think I’d even had dreams about him.
“You want me to go with you?” He tapped his stick on the ice. “I mean, I had plans to?—”
“Naw, I don’t want to bombard the guy. It’s probably better if I go alone.” I glanced at Gagnon. “Besides, Gagnon will be there if I need backup. The guy’s a hulk.” And being our goalie,he wouldn’t let me take shit from anyone if Tate showed up again.
“Okay. Let me know how it goes, okay?” Crosby frowned, and it morphed into a sly grin. “Let’s see if you can keep up this time.” He twisted around, putting his back to me. “We’ve gotta be ready for our first game next week.”
After practice, I found out Gagnon would be the last guy on Ezra’s schedule today, so I planned on heading to the studio toward the end of his shoot. This way, he could be there in case shit went down with Tate, or I could have some alone time with Ezra.
I parked my older jeep in an angled spot in front of the studio entrance. The place was pretty nondescript. You wouldn’t know it was here if you weren’t told about it. There was a small sign above the door readingTurner Photography.
It was still in Scottsdale, but south of the arts district, where I’d had dinner last night, and filled with convenience stores, auto body shops and a freaking strip club across the street. Maybe me and the guys would check it out sometime.
With a chuckle and my pulse stuttering, I climbed out of my vehicle, strolled to the heavy metal door, and swung it open.
Ezra, on one knee, snapped shots of Philippe Gagnon while he basically stood there, his thick, bare muscles well oiled. He was clueless about posing for this shoot.
As my breath caught, I stepped inside. There was the man who’d been living rent free in my head for two days. Wait, had Ezra oiled Philippe’s back too? I’d done it for Evan. Burning ghosted across my chest. Shit, why did I care?
“Okay, I think I’ve got what I need.” Ezra stood, peering into the screen on his camera and pushing buttons.
“Good. It went well?” Philippe stepped away from the lights and his gaze wound to me. “Lucas, you’re too late to see me get shoot.”
“Yeah, sorry.” With a chuckle, I brushed my palm over the back of my hair.
Ezra twisted and stared at me. “Lucas. I wasn’t expecting you.” The edges of his lips twitched.
Was he happy to see me? “Yeah, I, uh, I wanted to see the photos you took of me yesterday. You know, the special ones?” I threw a glance at Philippe. Was he going to ask questions?
Philippe paid us no mind as he undressed out of his hockey gear.
Stepping to me, Ezra said, “Sure. I edited them last night and I think they turned out pretty well.” He flicked his gaze up and down my body and then sank his teeth into his lower lip. “Come to my desk and I’ll show you.”
I followed him to his desk, my gaze landing on his round, swaying ass, covered in tight denim.
Did he work out? How did he get an ass like that? “Good. I think my mom will love them.” I sounded pathetic, didn’t I?
Philippe dressed in a team shirt and joggers and strolled toward us. “Can I see?” He lifted his brows.
“Uh, yeah.” Ezra dropped into the desk chair and clicked on his mouse. Images of my face came up on the big screen connected to his laptop. “You should be a model, Lucas.”
“Oh, so pretty.” Philippe snickered and pushed on my shoulder.
“Shut up.” With a soft snort, I slapped his chest, then gazed closer at the photo. This was how he saw me. I swallowed. It was probably the best photo anyone had ever taken of me. I looked…fucking good.
“Okay, I must go. I need supper.” Philippe patted my back. “Thank you, Ezra.”
“You’re welcome, Philippe. I’ll let you know when I have your photos edited.” Ezra stood and shook his hand.
“Later, Lucas.” Philippe gave me a side hug, ambled to the door and left.
