Cold Reads | HS

Framing

September 2023

When I awoke the following morning, Francesca wasn't in the room. I turned over to check my phone and enjoy the relaxation time. Having a late morning lie-in was a privilege I rarely experienced anymore. I held my phone up as I read through missed messages and emails, one arm resting behind my head.

When I got to Instagram, I braved looking through the comments I had posted on the picture of Francesca. It was just of the back of her in a bath full of bubbles, staring out the window at Paris surrounding us. Most were harmless, as media scrutiny of my love interests had dwindled as my fan base had aged and matured.

I spotted a comment from Axel, just a bunch of surprise-face emojis. I had to admit, that picture was daring. But the superficial, selfish side of myself had wanted to gloat. I had wanted to broadcast that - even for one night - the elusive and dazzling Francesca Westbrook had been mine.

Thinking of Axel and Nora, I was reminded of the first time they had met Francesca. The dinner had gotten off to a rocky start, but by the end of it, they were as easily charmed by her as I had been.

As I ran our conversations through our mind, my fingers paused as they replied to a text from a sound editor. I distinctly remembered Nora, Axel, and Francesca discussing their tattoos and piercings. Francesca had sympathized with Axel regarding his experience getting nipple piercings.

I decidedly recalled spending a large portion of the night admiring Francesca's body, specifically her breasts. I never saw any piercings.

The door to our suite opened as I turned the night over in my mind confusedly. Francesca walked in, a pair of compression leggings and a gray tank top framing her figure. She looked sweaty, and I could see a small patch of sweat at the small of her back when she turned around.

"Good morning," she greeted when she saw I was awake.

"Hi," I replied, still focused on last night.

"Sorry if I woke you on my way out this morning," she said distractedly, pulling her sneakers and socks off and then, surprisingly, sliding right out of her leggings in front of me. "I needed to get a workout in."

"I didn't hear anything," I told her, not averting my eyes. "I sleep like the dead."

Her tank top came next, and she was left standing in a thong and sports bra. I felt like a peeping Tom, but I needed to see again for myself if she truly had no nipple piercings. Maybe not noticing had been a product of my lusty haze last night.

She pulled her bra over her head and turned back to set her hair tie on the vanity. She peered over her shoulder at me.

"I thought you'd be a little more sly with the staring."

"Your nipples aren't pierced," I stated, ignoring her previous comment.

She smirked for a second, eyeing me before turning around and pulling down her thong. "No, they're not," she agreed.

I blinked. "At dinner with Axel and Nora, you said they were."

She snickered. "I was trying to get a reaction out of you; get under your skin. It worked."

Of course it did, I thought to myself. I choked on my water.

"It was almost too easy," she replied. My gaze was fixated on the view of her from behind. Eyebrow raised, she murmured "Careful, you're drooling."

"I'm admiring," I corrected.

"If I weren't so smelly, I'd crawl across the bed and have my way with you again."