"There will be no kissing allowed once this lip gloss goes on," Anna, one of the two makeup artists in front of Maisie, says sternly, hands on her hips as she looks at me. Her sudden change in tone catches me off guard, given how perky she was just a second ago.

I shift my eyes to Maisie, who's sitting in the makeup chair next to me, wrapped in a black silky robe with two pink clips on either side of her head holding back her buttery blonde hair. Andrea had planted me here next to Maisie in the dressing room, whispering, Sit here and don't move, before heading off to go do... I don't know actually. Andrea things, I guess.

I watch as Maisie bites the inside of her lip, struggling to hide her smile at Anna's uncalled for seriousness toward me as the other makeup artist removes the clips and fluffs her hair a little.

It's the first time I've seen her really smile since we walked into the studio building. She's nervous, and I can't tell if it's just from being here at the shoot, the email from her dad, or if it's because I kissed her the way I did an hour ago that's throwing her off.

It's just... I kissed her, and I didn't want to stop. I wanted more. To take as much as she'd let me.

Maybe if you think she likes kissing you, you should kiss her a little more. Clara's words have been ping-ponging through my brain since last night, playing on an endless loop. They were there while I was packing, while I lay staring up at the ceiling fan trying to fall asleep, and driving to the private airport just before the sun peeked above the horizon. I haven't stopped ruminating over it, and I'm starting to think my sisters might have a point.

Especially after that moan—Jesus, that sound that slipped from her lips when I kissed the base of her neck. The way she looked when she pulled away—kiss-bitten lips, rosy cheeks, how she whispered in that sweet honey-rasped voice, I think I just got carried away.

I think Maisie does like kissing me. I think she more than likes kissing me.

"So," Anna continues pulling me from my thoughts, a sly smile tugging at the edges of her lips, "I suggest acting now and kiss her or forever hold your peace... or at least 'til you get back to your hotel room."

"Right, okay, yeah," I say, enthusiastically hopping out of my chair. She doesn't have to ask me twice. I've been looking for any excuse just to touch Maisie. "I'll kiss her."

"Don't seem too eager," Maisie whispers, her words just for me as I lean in, placing my hands on either side of the chair's arms. "Might think you actually like me."

"Maybe I am eager," I whisper back, then press a kiss to Maisie's lips. It's chaste and quick and nowhere near enough, but I don't think Anna would appreciate it if I ruined her makeup and started making out with Maisie in front of her. So I settle for kissing her one more time before straightening back up, watching as her chest turns pink and the color spreads into her cheeks.

Yeah, I think to myself. She likes kissing me.

"God, you two are adorbs," Anna says as she unscrews what I assume is lip gloss, dips the wand into the tube twice, and then gently tilts Maisie's face upward.

"Thank you," Maisie replies, glancing at me with a hint of confusion from the corner of her eye as I settle back into my seat. Maybe I shouldn't have been so blunt, but what I said was definitely loud enough for Anna to hear and enough to make Maisie believe it was for the sake of our arrangement.

I place my laptop on my lap and try to focus on the edits again because I've gotten nowhere today. Not with Maisie sitting in front of me—her pretty pink bubblegum lips, clear blue eyes, and that subtle, delicate perfume she's wearing. Like fresh flowers on a spring day, and it's fucking intoxicating. It's impossible to concentrate on anything else.

I'm officially behind on work now.

"I can't believe you hid him for so long," Anna murmurs quietly to Maisie after a moment. "I mean, I get it. Look at him, he's a snack. I would've done the same thing. Your only mistake was telling Ricky Fallon you were in love with him. Probably wouldn't have caused such a frenzy after it aired, huh?"

"Did I say that?" Maisie whispers back and I glance over at them from my seat. She laughs nervously as Anna applies the glossy liquid to her bottom lip. "I'm not sure that's what I said."

"Oh, but God," Anna says, tilting Maisie's head in the other direction, "why did they have to give you the ship name Magust? Ick. It sounds like... maggot."

Maisie snorts out a laugh. "That's exactly what I thought."

"Anna," Erin, one of the stylists, says, peeking her head through the door to the dressing room. I can hear the bustling behind the door, Vogue staff scrambling to get last-minute things ready. "Are we ready for wardrobe now?"

"She's all set," Anna says, tossing the lip gloss onto the makeup counter with a clink. Stepping back, she clasps her hands beneath her chin, tilting her head to admire her masterpiece. "God, I'm good. I'll see you out there for touch-ups, okay?"

"Thank you, Anna," Maisie says, watching as she gathers a few brushes and powders, slipping them into the pouch belt at her waist.

"No probs," Anna replies, walking towards the door with the other makeup artist. She points at me as she passes, warning, "No kissing."

I hold up three fingers, giving her Scout's honor.

"Okay, let's get you into the first outfit," Erin says, sifting through the rack. Maisie gets up and stands behind me, where Erin is handing pieces to an assistant. "If you want to take that robe off, I can help you into it."

"Oh," Maisie murmurs. I glance up from my computer, catching her eyes in the mirror in front of me. She's frozen in place. "Right... here?"

Erin looks up from a lilac silky dress she's inspecting. "Um... yeah, is that okay?"

Maisie glances at me in the mirror again, then quickly back at the stylist, nervously rubbing her freshly glossed lips together.

"Oh," Erin says suddenly, as if realizing what's the matter. "Do you want me to have Alex step out?"

"I can step out," Alex, Erin's assistant, offers quickly, glancing at Maisie before pointing to the door. Erin gives him a quick nod, though I'm pretty sure it's me that Maisie is concerned about. But since I'm her "boyfriend," it technically shouldn't matter that I'm here. Because as her "boyfriend", she should have no problem with me looking at her naked, and definitely no issue with me doing a whole lot of other things besides just looking.

Also, Andrea did tell me not to move from my seat.

Alex nods vigorously. "Yeah, I'll step out for a moment."

Maisie's eyes dart to mine briefly before she says, "Right, yeah, um, thank you."

I fix my eyes back on my laptop as I hear the door close behind Alex, shifting so that I'm resting my elbow on the armrest as I rub the spot between my brows. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Maisie watching me, making sure I'm not looking at her before she turns her back to me and says, "Okay, yeah. Let's change."

I hear the rustling of fabric behind me, her robe dropping to the floor, a hanger being tossed aside. All I'm trying to do is hold myself together, but I'm fraying straight down the middle.

Don't look, I tell myself. Don't look. She is your best friend and I am a gentleman. Do not look.

I last about ten seconds before my eyes drift up from my laptop to the mirror without my explicit consent. Half my vision is still obscured by the hand resting on my forehead, but when my eyes land on her, all I can see is the smooth, creamy skin of her back. Those two dimples just above her hips. The very edge of her lacy, sheer pale pink underwear adorned with little purple floral patterns resting on her hips. And my mouth goes bone dry as I watch the stylist unhook the matching bralette, and Maisie shrugs it off.

Erin instructs Maisie to raise her hands, and as she does my eyes trace the swell of her breast before Erin slips the dress over her head. God, if she turns just a fraction of an inch I know I'd see those perfect dusty pink tits.

Heat rolls down my spine and settles heavy between my legs. There's nothing I want more than to storm over, push Erin out of the room, lock it behind her, and trail my tongue over every inch of Maisie's body. I want to taste her, trace her, mark her. I want to know what she'd sound like if I nipped at her breast, how she'd moan if I dropped to my knees and put my mouth to her, and what she'd look like completely bare in front of me in the glimmer of the afternoon sun peaking through the window.

The silky lilac material slowly starts to cover Maisie, and my eyes travel up, desperate to find any other bare skin they can snag themselves onto until they reach her eyes. Her bright blue eyes, wide and staring at me. Pink lights up her cheeks, and I hastily snap my gaze back to the computer in my lap, the tips of my ears burning hot.

I shift the laptop in my lap again, trying to conceal the erection straining against the zipper of my pants, as I attempt to look like I'm focused on work.

"Alright, we're all set," Erin says, holding the door to the studio open for Maisie. "August, feel free to join us when you're ready."

"Yeah—" I have to clear the husk from my throat three times before I can get the words out. "I'm, uh, just going to finish up this email."

I glance from Erin back down at my screen—I'm not even on an email. I'm in a Word doc, and I quickly stumble my way to open Outlook before glancing back at Erin and then finally to Maisie. Her blue eyes are narrowed into little slits, glaring at me, silently asking, Were you watching me, you creep?

When I do look at her though, I do a double-take, my eyes locking onto the dress Maisie's wearing. I was so focused on... other parts of Maisie that I didn't even notice her dress at first. She looks like a silky lilac dream, her luscious hair cascading in perfect waves—she's stunning. But then again, she always is. I'm pretty sure she could wear a brown paper bag, and I'd still think she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I quickly glance back down at my screen, realizing I'm staring again, mentally stripping her down to those sheer pink panties.

"I'll be there in a minute," I say, rubbing the crease between my brows, willing myself to focus. I start typing away... gibberish, just to avoid looking Maisie in the eyes.

"Don't work too hard, August," Maisie chides as she heads towards the door, amusement edging her voice. "Wouldn't want that crease of yours to get any creasier."