“Thank you for flying with us today, sir.”

I nodded sharply to the flight attendant as I shouldered my laptop bag and stepped off the plane. I was lost in my thoughts, my phone already buzzing from missed calls and text messages.

I’d carefully scheduled these few days in Milan, but I still hadn’t heard back from Leonel. Then again, he was probably so busy that he didn’t even know his own plans a day in advance. That tended to happen by the end of a fashion week. And from what Raymond had told me, the pressure was really on now.

The man here to pick me up was holding a sign that misspelled my last name—Hail, not Hale. I just smiled. It was kind of nice not to be recognized.

I introduced myself to the driver, then followed him to the car and spent the first few minutes of the drive catching up. I had a couple of voicemails from the office, friends, potential business contacts, and some updates from Raymond.

It sounded like the shows had gone incredibly well that afternoon, and despite being in rough shape that morning, all three of our guys had pulled through for Giuseppe and Nicolas’ sneak preview show. The public show was tomorrow, and tonight was a magazine shoot.

With Clive, of course.

I winced as I scanned Raymond’s email. Apparently, Leonel hadn’t taken the news well. He also hadn’t walked out after the show, so he wasn’t that pissed off, but still…

Lost in thought, I barely noticed when the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel except that the driver started to climb out.

I grabbed my carry-on and slid out of the passenger seat with a nod of thanks. “Have a good day.”

Check-in was painless. Once I learned my room number, I scanned another email from Raymond.

He and all three of the models had a block of rooms one floor below mine. I hummed under my breath, my gaze on Leonel’s room number before I closed the email.

I sent a quick text to Raymond.

-You guys already at the studio?

After a quick shower, shave, and freshing up, I had my answer.

I laughed under my breath. I’d happily rein in or reign over Leonel any day. But I didn’t think my new faces agent wanted me to fix the problem the exact same way as last time, around one of the top photographers shooting for one of the most important magazines in the world.

I called the front desk to get another taxi, then touched up my hair a little more and straightened my tie. I refused to think that I was taking extra care now that I was seeing Leonel again.

When the taxi finally arrived and I climbed in, I gave the driver the studio address and watched the streets of Milan pass by. The photos I’d seen on Leonel’s Instagram feed made it look like he’d gotten out a few times to explore, at least.

Why did that make me feel a little jealous? I’d been to Milan so often it was nearly boring. But this was Leonel’s first trip, and he seemed to be making the most of it -- the photos of drinks, Milan alleys late in the evening, and the usual tourist landmarks.

When we finally arrived at my destination, I thanked the driver and handed over some crisp Euro notes before getting out of the taxi. Then I walked through the open double doors into the courtyard that housed the studio.

The moment I walked through the ivy-framed glass doors, the receptionist stood up to welcome me. I recognized Lily by now and offered her a bright smile in greeting as I glanced around the steel-toned reception.

“Welcome, sir! Thank you for coming. Raymond said to send you through whenever you got here.”

I nodded and leaned in to kiss her cheeks. “How has it been going? Anything interesting in the studios today?”

“A little student project in set three. They’ve had a parade of models. I think they’re splitting the fee a bunch of ways.”

I chuckled. “Thanks for the heads-up. Maybe I’ll have a peek in on them.”

“They might have a heart attack,” Lily warned with a playful laugh. “The photographer nearly passed out when he saw your Leonel walking down the hall.”

My Leonel.

I grinned again and nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Lily.”

I cracked the door at the end of the hall and peeked in, then slipped into the bright studio and glanced around.

God, it was set up lavishly. They’d brought in a classy living room set complete with a fake fireplace, walls, and wood floor. The intense studio lights were dimmed and muted for a sensual air, and Leonel lounged along the couch with his shirt open and his chin delicately propped on his fist.

On one arm of the sofa, Hunter perched, while Joaquín sprawled on the floor near the end of the sofa with his legs open, but neither of them noticed I was there.

Lights and shadows danced along Leonel’s chest, highlighting the outline of those gorgeous pecs and abs. He must have been eating lightly again that week. His body fat was ridiculously low. I rubbed my chin, trying to push away the concern. Cutting my meals hadn’t killed me back in the day, either.

I couldn’t treat him yet, either. He still had tomorrow to get through.

“No, I’m not going to open my mouth. Perv,” I heard him scoff at Clive.

“What if I ask very nicely?” I drawled. Hunter nearly fell off the arm of the sofa from surprise.

Leonel pushed himself up on the couch, a smile lingering around his lips. The flashes went off, startling me.

“Fuck, I wasn’t ready,” he complained to Clive, but he still laughed anyway.

“That’s the point.” The photographer winked. “If you lot aren’t behaving…”

“Oh, like we’re naughty kids at school,” Hunter joined in, laughing.

I smirked. “Nah, you’re all too sexy for that.” I came up behind Clive and clapped his back. “How’s it going?”

“Can’t complain. Got a few serviceable shots so far,” he said, but his voice sounded a little more long-suffering than his words let on.

I moved past him, wandering the edge of the set with my hands tucked in my pockets. “Don’t let me disturb you. Everyone probably wants to get home to bed.”

“Or get out on the town,” Joaquín spoke up and Hunter laughed while Leonel smiled briefly. When they shifted to look at the camera again, there was a little less tension in the room.

I leaned back against the wall and folded my arms to stay out of the way as Clive directed their gazes different ways and asked them to shift into different positions around the couch.

Then, he approached Leonel, but just before he reached him, he paused. “I want your arm further back.” Then, Leonel shifted it and Clive nodded. “Like that.”

Good. He learned his lesson. I didn’t really want to have to yell at him myself.

Finally, after countless more photos, Clive dismissed them all and said, “I’ve got what I need.”

I glanced across the room at the guy from the magazine. It was a new guy -- Alphonse or something, I didn’t really know him. He was nodding, too.

“Oh, boy. I missed it all.” I sighed and shook my head, approaching Raymond as the three models helped each other to their feet and disappeared to the changing room, hands on each other’s shoulders and arms as they laughed quietly amongst themselves.

I remembered that camaraderie, especially of dealing with an annoying photographer who took more than he really needed and bossed everyone around.

“Yeah, especially the fireworks,” Raymond murmured under his breath.

I leaned in. “From Leonel?”

“They had at it for a minute. Then he told Clive to fuck off and let him do his job instead of doing both their jobs, unless he wanted to take self-portraits.”

I choked for a moment on my laugh. I didn’t necessarily want my top star to be antagonizing photographers, but holy shit, that was kind of funny. I glanced across at Clive, who was fidgeting with his laptop and camera as he transferred photos.

“They get all the outfits in, too?”

“Yeah, they all worked fast. I thought we’d be here all night.”

It was only nine, and I was so thankful for that.

All three of the models emerged at the same time, laughing over something they’d been discussing, and approached me and Raymond.

“So we’re done for the night? No more jobs? Crazy midnight shows?” Joaquín asked, grinning.

They’re definitely going out. Those tight shirts, collared shirts, slinky sweaters, neat jeans and trousers…

I licked my lips, trying not to stare at the three of them, but especially Leonel.

“Done,” Raymond confirmed, then eyed the three of them. “You’re going to go get into trouble, aren’t you? Come on, there’s a taxi waiting. Gideon, do you want to get your own or come with us? There’s more than enough room.”

Oh, what the hell. I laughed and shrugged. “I’ll come.”

The five of us headed through the hallways, waving a quick goodbye to Lily and the studio manager.

As soon as we reached the courtyard, a slender young guy in a plaid shirt and cool ripped jeans froze, raising a hand in a slight, uncertain wave. He had a hand wrapped tightly around the strap of his camera, which looked like a pretty cheap Canon and external flash.

This was definitely the student Lily had told me about.

Joaquín snorted, but Hunter waved him off and walked toward the guy, his hands in his pockets. “What’s up?” he asked casually.

The guy froze and swallowed, clearly trying his absolute hardest to be cool. “N-not much. I hope this isn’t weird…”

“Nah. You a photographer?”

“Yes!” the student answered, almost bursting with excitement, his cheeks turning red. “Well, aspiring. You know.”

Hunter nodded. “Good for you. You got any big shows under your belt yet?”

“A pretty big museum got me to do one before school. I’m working on another for the school, and then… well, I’ll take it from there.”

“Oh, so a natural talent. Great job,” Joaquín said, taking an interest now. Leonel still hung back a pace or two beside Raymond, his expression openly guarded.

I smiled. “You wanted a photo or something?”

“Well, yeah, actually, if… if you wouldn’t mind. I mean, I know it’s asking a lot, shit, I’m sorry, I just…”

Joaquín laughed. “No, you can have a photo. Come on, Leo.”

Leonel rolled his eyes and elbowed him, but looked around until he spotted a table and chairs. He went to slouch in one of the chairs, his elbow on the table and a finger on his jawline near his chin.

Joaquín perched on the table beside him, while Hunter crouched beside them. It looked perfectly staged, like they’d rehearsed this group shot idea somewhere before.

The student carefully adjusted his camera and took a couple photos while Raymond and I stood back.

“Thanks a lot, guys.” The young guy laughed sheepishly, approaching to get a solo shot of each of them, too. “That’s great. Thanks, Joaquín. And Hunter. And…”

Leonel’s reluctance had passed. He was giving him -- the camera, rather -- the full Leonel stare, lips slightly parted, head slightly to one side.

If this kid was any good at all, that was going to be a damn good shot.

“Thanks, Leonel,” the guy nearly whispered.

“What’s your name? You got a card?” The second Raymond asked, the guy was giving him a business card, and I grinned.

“Send us an email and we’ll talk sometime.” I cast a quick smile at Hunter, glad he’d warmed up and gotten everyone to give the kid something to remember. “What’s your name?”

“Sascha.”

“Nice name. Sascha.” I reached out to shake hands. “Have a good night. Get in touch.”

“I will,” he promised eagerly, grinning at me as he clutched his camera like he’d never held something more precious.

He probably hadn’t. Three of our top-billed models in one shot, and a few solo shots to boot? It was impressive that he wasn’t shaking like a leaf.

“There’s our taxi,” Raymond pointed out and waved while the guys peeled themselves off the table and chairs and loped off for the car.

I smiled when I’d settled in the first bench seat beside Raymond.

The models had chosen the row at the back and were sprawled, all arms and legs. Hunter’s arm was stretched along the back of the seat behind everyone, while Joaquín kept picking at a stray tuft of Leonel’s hair that didn’t want to lie flat until Leonel tried to pinch him back.

God, they were a handful, but this was innocent fun compared to what I knew was coming later.

I worried for Leonel.

“Can we have a word with you in the hotel?” Raymond addressed him, and there was no doubt which of them he was looking at.

“Oooh,” Joaquín and Hunter chimed in, just to be annoying, and I cast them a quick glance but paid no real attention.

Leonel shrugged loosely and nodded.

I sighed quietly. Raymond wants to have that talk. I changed the subject by glancing at Hunter. “Glad you talked to that kid. He seems pretty cool.”

“Hope he’s a decent photographer.”

Leonel laughed. “He’ll look back someday and wish he’d done something technical a little better. Hopefully he’s not bad.”

“He wouldn’t be if he hired a studio here,” I told them. “That shit’s expensive.”

“True,” Hunter agreed, then elbowed Leonel. “God, you didn’t hold back. He’s gonna be crushing on you forever.”

“I recognized his profile photo, I think. He’s one of my followers.”

“Dude, you have like, thousands.”

“He commented yesterday on my photo of the airport, welcoming me to Milan. It stuck in my mind.” Leonel shrugged. “Most people are like, come meet me! but he was just cool. Or trying to be.”

“Recognition on the streets. It never gets old, man,” Hunter chuckled. “And even five years from now, even if you drop out of the spotlight, someone here or there will recognize you. Better not go to any sleazy dive bars and get caught picking up a--”

“We agreed not to talk about him,” Joaquín snapped, leaning forward. “Can we not?”

I quirked my brow. That had to be Jackson Graham, an up-and-coming model who’d been caught with a male escort. Not that it was a big deal in our industry, but he’d been photographed with his hand in the guy’s pants in public. Not good for an up-and-coming model’s image.

Joaquín had dated him? God, that was a mistake.

The taxi pulled up at our hotel, and after paying the driver, we got out into the cool night air. Hunter and Joaquín pulled away from Leonel with slaps to his back and shoulder -- and ass -- to leave him with me and Raymond.

After the two models left, I turned to face Raymond and Leonel. “Up to my room,” I told them both.

All three of us were silent for the elevator ride.