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CHAPTER EIGHT

WE FINISH. I carefully pack Jordan's camera back into its box as I remove the precious memory card—precious, because it now contains the raw files of the two collaborative videos between Jordan and Edmund. I stow the memory card into its special, red case—the writing on the front of the case screams, 'Don't even think about recording over the contents until they've been backed up!'—the cautionary message and the red case were both of my ideas, of course, and Jordan was thrilled when I'd sent him the case as a gift.

Whatever happened last night, nobody seems to remember, or nobody seems to want to admit to remembering anything, but either way, at least Jordan doesn't seem to know that I woke up here—to my absolute surprise—in Edmund's hotel room—and less than half an hour or so before Jordan arrived. In my mind, my shower was a race to get finished before Jordan could finish his shower back at his own home—and finding and changing into one of Edmund's spare outfits was a race to beat Jordan as I'd imagined he would be putting on his own clothes back at his place.

Despite the fact that I'm wearing Edmund's clothes, I'm about as positive as I can be that we didn't do anything together. As far as I've pieced together, I just crashed here for the night, probably because I was too drunk to move by the end of it. A gentle hand squeezes my shoulder and I turn back to look up at Edmund's beautiful smile.

"Would you mind if we take a photo?" Edmund asks, holding his smart phone up, gesturing to it. I return his smile as I nod.

"Where do you want me to take it for you guys?" I ask, standing up as I push away a lighting tripod into the corner of his hotel room. I hold my hand out expecting him to hand me his phone, but he tucks it into his chest, prompting me to raise a questioning brow.

"I meant all three of us," Edmund says. There's a knock at the door. I start for the door but he gestures that he'll get it. Edmund opens the door, letting Jordan back in after having returned from his mission to the lobby to get ice—apparently, it was a success, since the ice box he's carrying is practically overflowing.

"But I hardly did anything, you two are the important ones—" I start to say, rolling up one of the audio cables.

"Nonsense," Edmund cuts me off, apparently gesturing to the fact that I'm still working at this very moment. "You're an integral part of our production and we couldn't have done it without you."

"Are you trying to steal my production assistant? He's mine—you can't have him," Jordan says, dryly, pouring us cups of iced water. We laugh.

"Well, that's not half a bad idea," Edmund says as he winks at me. I can feel a blush coming on as he addresses Jordan, adding, "I was, in fact, trying to get a photo of all three of us, but perhaps if he's ever in the London area, he should give me a call."

"London? You mean you don't live here at all?" I ask, trying to hide the feeling of being shot in the gut out of my voice—I should have guessed, but I thought he was an expat. Jordan hands me a cup of iced water, then another to Edmund.

"How could I ever leave the beautiful weather of London?" Edmund asks, sarcastically, chuckling with Jordan as I try to eek out a smile—his joke was well placed, and I did find it funny, but I'm just too gutted to laugh as the unease of knowing that I may never see Edmund again sets in.

"Do you have any plans to return?" I ask, holding my breath.

"Hard to say, but I'm sure that I will visit again in the near future," Edmund says—my gaze drops to the gray, industrial carpet between us, because, inwardly, I translate his words as meaning, 'likely, never'. Edmund's hand pats me on my shoulder as he adds, "perhaps we'll all collab again."