Stupid hormones and thoughts and feelings. Why did we even need them? All they ever did was cause trouble. Me and my vibrator definitely had a hot date lined up for tonight. First, however, maybe I should give Sam a call and suggest Ziggy needed a day off. I know I did. A little distance right now might be wise. Get his hotness out of my face for a while.

Lena finally lowered her camera. “You were on fire today.”

“Thanks.” This made sense what with the excessive heat happening in my panties and all.

“We are going to sell some lingerie, I tell you!”

“Good to hear.” I smiled, taking my robe back from Zane.

It’d been a long and confusing day. Though the mental aerobics pondering Ziggy and his behavior sure did wonders for taking my mind off the horrible deliveries and evil stalker person. That mess had hardly crossed my mind at all.

I got dressed back into my black tank top, skinny jeans, strappy sandals, and big sunglasses. With the fancy hair and full make-up, if the paparazzi were still hanging around, which they inevitably would be given my luck, they’d have pretty glam shots without the need for me dressing up. Not that this was the kind of publicity I needed nor required, but I suppose it would make a change from them snapping me with my baggy eyes and shoddy clothes over the last week. That was something, at least.

There were hugs and air kisses aplenty as we finished up. Lena’s studio was in a gated area so the paparazzi were sort of milling around out beyond the gates. You’d want to be patient. Sometimes I really felt for them. It must be such a boring job, standing around for long stretches of time. Of course, you’d also want to be a bit of an invasive jerk who didn’t particularly care about people’s privacy during their times of trouble.

The sun sat low in the sky and the fresh air outside was a welcome change after all the hours of being cooped up inside. It would be nice not to be touched for a while too. Most everyone on the many shoots I’d been on had been professional and matter of fact, but getting your personal space back at the end of a shoot was a nice sensation.

It wasn’t far to the Rover. Ziggy strode slightly to the side and slightly in front of me. Guess the position kept me in the edge of his field of vision. We still weren’t really talking much today, though the mood felt thick for want of a better word. Or off, maybe?