Page 101 of Claimed At First Sight

Click.

“Chin up a little.”

Click.

“Now look outside.”

Click.

For the first few minutes, I have no idea what to do with myself.

Where am I supposed to put my hands? Am I smiling too much? Not enough?

Do people normally know what their face is doing? Because I don’t.

Rory lowers the camera.

“You’re trying too hard.”

“Am I not meant to pose?”

“You are. Just not like someone’s holding your family hostage until you get it right.”

A laugh bursts out of me, and the camera clicks.

I narrow my eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

“Guilty.”

She looks at the screen and grins. “There you are.”

I walk over to her. “Let me see.”

Rory turns the camera toward me. For a second, I just stare.

It’s me. Obviously. But I don’t look posed.

My head is tipped back from laughing, my hair falling over one shoulder and one hand still resting against the window frame.

I look happy. Light.

Not polished or composed.

“Oh.”

Rory glances at me. “Is that a good oh?”

“Yeah.”

She takes the camera back.

“Now stop worrying about what you look like.”

“That seems difficult when you’re literally photographing what I look like.”

“Trust me.”

I eye her. “Those are dangerous words.”