Chapter 110

The day of the private photoshoot, I had been prepared to take the public bus to the stop nearest Coach’s house, but instead, Asher showed up at my door, spinning his car keys around his finger.

“You think I’m going to let you go alone?” he asked.

“Coach insisted that he’ll only let me in the house,” I said.

“Then I’ll wait outside,” Asher said. “But I will be nearby.”

I decided not to argue. I always felt safer with Asher around. Knowing he’d just be parked on the street or in the driveway was a comfort.

Finally, I agreed. “Okay.”

I started to leave the room, but he stopped me at once. “Where’s your jacket?”

I looked down at myself. I wore a simple cardigan over a t-shirt with jeans. “The cardigan should be enough…?”

He peered past me, into the room. I stood aside to let him enter, confused until I saw him snatch his own leather jacket off the back of my computer chair.

He turned around and draped it over my shoulders. As I slid my arms into the sleeves, I lifted a curious brow at him.

Swallowing hard, he avoided my gaze. “My wolf is very agitated. I thought it might help if…”

“If…?” I could have filled in the blanks on my own, but I secretly, selfishly wanted to hear him say it.

He rolled his eyes. “If you smell like me. Happy?”

When I nodded, his look of exasperation became one of fondness. Too soon, it hardened. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

In the car, as we drove closer and closer to our destination, Asher became more and more agitated.

“If he tries something, text me,” Asher said. “I’ll break his damn front door down if I have to.”

“It won’t come to that,” I said, attempting to assure him. It didn’t seem to work, especially with the nervous tremor in my own voice. “It’s going to be okay.”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel.

When we reached the house, the steering wheel creaked under the force of his grip.

“I’ll be right here,” Asher said. “I’m not moving from this spot until I see you come back through that door.”

“Okay.” I tightened Asher’s jacket around myself.

I sat in the car a moment longer, afraid to move and face what lied behind the front door of this unassuming split-level home.

But eventually, I forced myself to exit the safety of Asher’s car. If I hesitated too much, Asher would just take me home under the guise of protecting me.

I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t lose all I had worked for.

So I rose from the passenger seat and closed the door behind me. Then, gathering my courage, I marched to Coach’s front door.

I rang the doorbell, and Coach opened the door at once.

“Cynthia!” he said, smiling, and invited me inside. “Did you find the place okay?”

“Uh… yes, thank you.”

His… normalcy unnerved me. He wasn’t angry or condescending like he always had been at practice. Here, in his home, he seemed… friendly.

“Do you want some lemonade? Here, have a seat.” He ushered me into his living room, and I sat on the edge of a plush sofa. On a nearby coffee table, a pitcher of lemonade had been arranged with a set of clear glasses.

He poured me a glass and pressed it into my hand. Suspicious, I lowered it back onto the coffee table.

“I’m very pleased that you’ve accepted this opportunity to work together,” Coach said, sitting on a recliner on the other side of the coffee table. “These photos I’ve been taking have really been selling great. We’re raising so much money for the squad.”

“That’s… good.”

This was so odd. Why was he being so nice?

“You can leave your stuff here on the couch,” Coach said, gesturing to my purse and jacket. I started to slide the jacket off of my shoulders. “I have a dress for you to wear in the bathroom. When you are ready to start, you can go get changed in there.”

“Okay.”

“The set is arranged in the basement. I’ll show you.”

Leaving my purse and jacket behind, I rose from the couch and followed Coach to the bathroom at the top of a stairwell to the basement.

“I’ll go down and finish setting up. After you’ve changed, come down and join me, and we’ll get started.”

“…Okay.”

In the bathroom, a white ruffled skirt and a tasteful button-up tank top hung on a hook.

As I changed into it, I couldn’t help but feel a small sort of relief. Maybe the swimsuit photos were as bad as things would get. Maybe Coach realized that some people want to buy pictures of girls being cute, not just girls being sexy.

My confidence lasted all the way down the stairs into the basement. As I reached the floor, all good feelings vanished.

Coach had arranged a camera and lighting around a double bed in the center of the room. The bed was covered in dark satin sheets, slightly rumpled.

At once, I backed toward the stairs again, but Coach appeared behind me, blocking my path.

“There you are,” he said. His smile was different now, more catlike. A predator in his element. And me, the prey, right where he wanted me.

I swallowed down my nerves. Maybe I was overreacting. Even with the bed, the outfit he’d chosen was very modest and sweet. Maybe the bed just made a good backdrop. Maybe it didn’t mean anything bad.

Still, my stomach churned and my heart thudded. I longed to escape. Or… text Asher!

I reached for my purse, only to realize I had left it upstairs on the couch.

Oh, no.

“Kneel on the bed, Cynthia,” Coach said. Noticing my hesitation, he added, “There’s nothing to be nervous about. You can trust me behind the camera. I’ll find all your good angles.”

Bile rose in my throat. I wanted to run, but what could I do? He had bodily blocked my exit. And this… didn’t change anything. I had to obey him and finish this shoot.

I couldn’t risk being kicked off the cheerleading team.

So I took a deep, calming breath and went to the bed. Lifting my skirt just enough to not trip over it, I crawled onto the center of the mattress.

“Perfect,” Coach said and went behind the camera. He snapped a few photos. “Give us a pout, honey. That’s it. No, your hands… Hmm… Put your hands in your hair.”

I lifted my hands into my hair.

“That’s it. Lift your hair up off your neck. Great.” He took several more photos in quick succession. Then he brought the camera closer to take some photos from a high angle above me. “Lean forward a little. Give the guys a tease of your tits.”

I didn’t want to, but if it was just a tease… I leaned a little, pressing my breasts forward.

Coach licked his lips. “Perfect. Yeah, just like that. The guys are going to go wild for you, Cynthia.”

The only guy I wanted to go wild for me was Asher, who was outside in his car. But he might as well have been on the moon for as close as he was now.

Coach stepped back from the bed and checked the photos on the screen of the digital camera.

I exhaled. Maybe this was it. Maybe I was done.

Yet, before I could fully relax, Coach set up the camera again, looked at me, and spoke.

“Now, Cynthia. Take off your top.”