Not If I Date You First

Chapter 18

LIAM

Twenty minutes later, we're camped out in front of Nosh as a swarm of photogs circles us like sharks scenting blood in the water. Most of them stick to their tired routine of shouting at me to look into their cameras. But some of them legit seem pumped to have me out here with them. They hold out their hands for high fives and fist bumps, welcoming me to 'the dark side' and asking for selfies. I pose for a few, but as soon as they start peppering me with questions about my personal life—mainly about Ada—the flames of annoyance begin to flicker.

I catch Briggs's eye, and he forces everyone back, giving me some much-needed space. I've got to try and figure out how in the hell to work this absurdly complicated contraption the saleswoman told me was a camera. There are dials and buttons all over it. I don't even know how to turn it on.

The sun beats down on the back of my neck, making my skin sizzle. I twist my Yankees hat around backward, trying to block what's got to be some kind of solar flare. Sweat makes my shirt cling to my back. I never thought about how much time the paps spend out in the elements, waiting for us to do something worth photographing. Doing this every day would be brutal. Not that I'm about to admit that.

"You have no idea how to use that, do you?" Ada's watching me, eyes bright like she's enjoying seeing me struggle.

I flick a switch on the side of the camera and feel a surge of pride as it whirs to life. "I know how to work it," I lie through my teeth. "It isn't rocket science."

Ada jerks her chin toward me, lips curling tauntingly. "Prove it."

"What do you want me to do? Take your picture?"

"If you can manage it."

I peer through the eyepiece. Taking a guess, I jab the round button next to my thumb. I hear the familiar ch-ch sound. "Ha! Told you." I hold out my camera in triumph, but when I look down at the image on the screen, it's completely black.

Ada starts laughing so hard, she bends forward, grabbing her knees to keep from falling over on the concrete. I swipe at the beads of sweat gathering on the back of my neck. "Okay, it wasn't that funny, but go ahead. Laugh it up."

Ada's still wheezing as she straightens. "You have to take the lens cover off."

I turn the camera around and see the piece of black plastic. "Right."

"Give it here." Ada holds out her hand. I hesitate, squinting at her suspiciously. "That thing is much safer in my hands than yours," she says.

"Yeah? Try telling that to my balls," I mutter, the memory of her practically junk-punching me on the subway still fresh in my mind. But I pass her the camera.

"Oh, get over it." Rolling her eyes, she removes the cover and twists one of the dials. "There. I put it on automatic, so you just have to point and shoot." She passes it back to me, and our fingers brush. Hers are silky against my overheated skin. I glance down at her, meeting her eyes. Something inside my chest catches, and I force my gaze away. The sun must be getting to me.

I shake my head, deciding to try and take another shot. I raise the camera, pointing it at Ada again. Now that she knows the lens cover's off, she tries to jump out of the line of fire. But she's too slow. The ch-ch sounds before she can look away.

I study the photo on the screen. Ada's full lips are parted in surprise, but the glint in her eyes is more amused than irritated. There's a flush to her skin that I have to admit is kind of gorgeous.

"Delete it," Ada demands, reaching for the camera again.

"Obviously." I hold it up out of her grasp. "It's grotesque." But I turn the camera off without erasing the picture.