Page 12 of Loving Lauren
Thalia let out a small sigh. “Okay, poet. So, are you going to ask her out or are you going to talk about her like a Victorian diary for another month?”
Sierra buried her face in a throw pillow. “I don’t want to ruin anything, but we’re working together again next month. It’s a collab series, so I’ll see her a lot.”
“Then ease into it and maybe suggest coffee or tea. There’s less pressure that way.”
Sierra sat up, heart fluttering again. “It’s casual, smart, and friendly but could be flirty.”
“Exactly, Sierra, so don’t overthink it.”
Which of course meant she was now going to do nothing but overthink it. Still, Sierra opened her messages and started typing.
Sierra:Hey Lauren. I’m still buzzing from Friday and was wondering if you’d want to grab coffee Wednesday morning? I promise great espresso, and I’d love to pick your brain about makeup secrets.
She stared at the message for way too long and then finally hit send. Seconds later.
Lauren:Hey Sierra! I’m still not over how amazing those shots turned out. Coffee on Wednesday sounds perfect. How about 9 AM at Bean and Bloom? I’d love to trade makeup tips for photography secrets. Can’t wait!
Sierra read it twice, then read it again, and her whole body tingled.
She picked up Salem, stood up in the middle of the living room and spun once, bare feet sliding on the hardwood. Salem blinked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“I’m in trouble, Salem, but it’s the best kind.”
He blinked, flicked his tail, and pawed at her chin as if he disapproved of this nonsense.
She laughed, setting him down with a kiss on the top of his head. Still smiling, she pulled her hair back into a bun, tucked her phone into her pocket, and took a deep breath.
Coffee on Wednesday, a new shoot on the horizon, and maybe... something more.
Chapter 8
Monday afternoon sunlight filtered through Sierra’s gauzy curtains, casting soft stripes across the hardwood. Her coffee table had become a gallery of glossy prints, each one a tiny celebration of the shoot with Lauren.
There she was. Winged liner sharp enough to earn its own security clearance. Lashes shimmering beneath diffused light, glitter suspended like stars mid-blink. Sierra arranged three of her favorites into a crisp white folder and studied them like a curator prepping for an exhibit.
“Love the glow on her cheek. That catchlight in her eye is perfection.” She paused, lips quirking. “And this pigment? Full-blown mood.”
She snapped a photo of the mini-portfolio with her phone and smiled. Even if conversation stalled on Wednesday, she’d have these as her safety net. A visual reminder that this wasn’t just a crush; it was a collaboration. She cared about Lauren’s work as much as she cared about her own. Probably more. Okay, maybe it was a tie.
Sierra flopped onto the couch, one arm draped dramatically across her face. When exactly had she become the person who got butterflies over eyeliner?
That evening, she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, phone in selfie mode, like she was auditioning for the role ofmildly deranged romanticon some off-brand reality show.
She tried out lines in a stage whisper.
“So, how long have you been... brushing other people’s eyelids for money?” She winced. Too weird.
“What’s the difference between warm and cool tones again? Because apparently I’ve been doing everything wrong for a decade.” Nope, sounded like a pop quiz.
She leaned in, blinked at herself. “Do you have a favorite brush for blending existential dread?” That one hit too close.
Finally, she dropped the performance, stared at her reflection as if it were Lauren. “I think you’re incredibly talented, and your looks are next-level inspiring. Like NASA should study your cut creases.”
She cringed. “Um. You’re amazing?”
A beat of silence—and then a full-on laugh exploded out of her, the kind that made her double over the sink, gasping.
From the hallway, Salem peeked around the corner, tail flicking once like an editor rejecting her entire emotional monologue. He stared with regal disdain, then turned away as if to say,Honestly. Get it together.
