She considered other photographers within the school directory, but Sanjay’s work stood out. The way his shots conveyed texture and light was unique. She couldn’t take no for an answer; instead, she told him she’d rent a room at the hotel one night, bring all her things, and if he could just run up to the room after work and shoot, she’d “pay” him with some of the pieces that he could give to his sisters. They negotiated: He said his sisters didn’t wear jewelry, but he’d do it if he could keep some of the photos for his portfolio or even to sell in the future.

“Deal,” she said.

The Casterbridge was a redbrick and stone Georgian Revival building overlooking Central Park. A room was a big expense, but she knew she would make it back if she sold just a quarter of the rings Sanjay photographed. She brought along a bottle of prosecco to celebrate when the shoot was finished.

He finished his shift at midnight and worked methodically but quickly; he tried different backgrounds, some white light box, some colorful textile, some taken of the rings on her fingers. The ones she liked best were the close-ups of a ring with the bright white background. They allowed the gems to pop, vivid and enticing as actual candy.

As she watched him work, trusting his art direction instead of her own urge to call the shots, she realized for the first time how attractive he was. With his intelligent dark eyes, thick black hair, and dimpled smile, she could only assume her admiration for his talent led her to prematurely put him in the friend zone. And Sanjay must have felt something different that night, too, because somehow, between breaking down the lights and camera setup and opening the bottle of prosecco, they kissed. It was a great kiss, one that made her knees weak.

A kiss worthy of launching a real love affair. And it did—until she screwed it up.

It had only been a few weeks since he’d forgiven her and they’d tentatively found their way back to friendship. With school ending, they both wanted to set things right, and Gemma was grateful to have her friend back. Still, she longed for him in a way that would make it impossible to be satisfied with just friendship. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

“Wanna grab something to eat?” she said.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” he said. “Let’s just get to work.”

“Oh? Big plans tonight?” she teased to cover up her disappointment. She thought with a pang of the days when they met up at her apartment, had heart-stopping sex, ordered in food, and then finally got around to photographing her work around midnight. Then more sex. Then waking up in each other’s arms . . .

Stop it.