Текст книги "Fading"

Автор книги: E. K. Blair

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

School started back up this past week and so far, it seems that apart from my dance studios, classes should be fairly easy. Leaving my Technique Instruction lecture, I text Ryan to let him know I'm coming over a little earlier than planned since all we did was go over the syllabus.

The other day I was looking at the matted photos that I had seen back in November and when I asked to see more, he offered to show them to me this afternoon. I have been fixated on the photo I originally saw of the curve of a woman's back. I've been trying to not let my curiosity get the best of me, but I can't help but wonder who the women are in his photos.

When I arrive, the door is unlocked, so I let myself in. I don't see Ryan when I enter, so I call out, "Ryan?"

"Back in my office," he yells.

Walking down the hall to his home office, the door is cracked. I lightly knock before I enter.

"Hey, babe," he says as he leans back in his leather chair from behind his desk. "Come here."

I walk around his large desk as he scoots his chair back. He stretches his arms out and envelops me as I sit on his lap.

"How were your classes today?" he asks as he brushes my hair off my shoulder.

"Uneventful, but it's only the first week. Nothing but going over the syllabus for the most part."

"I'm glad you're here. I've missed you," he says as he brings my head down so that he can kiss me.

I've been working more while Roxy rearranges the calendar to accommodate everyone's new class schedules. When I'm not working, I have been in the studio adding choreography and rehearsing my solo. Auditions for our final production are next month, so there hasn't been much time for Ryan and I to spend together.

"So, don't be mad, but..." I start when Ryan interrupts, "Oh, God."

"Just listen," I say. "When I was on campus today I ran into Stacy Keets who works at the Henry Art Gallery. She was telling me that one of her pieces got picked up for a gallery show next month."

"So, you want to go?"

"Yes, but I was thinking that you could submit one of your photos."

"Babe," he says as he cocks his head to the side. "Those are just a hobby that I hardly even take seriously. I'm far from having them displayed in a gallery of all places."

Rolling my eyes at him, I continue, "Well, I happen to love the few photos I've seen. They're a lot better than you think they are."

"You're cute," he teases.

"I'm serious, I think that you should at least submit something and see if it gets accepted. If not, nothing lost, right?"

"And if they are?"

"Then you can take me as your date for the showing," I say with a sly grin.

"If I say I'll think about it, will that suffice?"

"Yep."

Laughing at me, he buries his head in my neck and starts nipping the curve of my shoulder, which he knows is my ticklish spot.

Giggling uncontrollably as he playfully assaults my neck, I manage to push him away and hop off of his lap.

"Show me all your photos so I can pick out the ones for you to consider submitting," I tease.

Rolling his chair back to the wooden credenza on the wall behind his desk, he slides one of the doors open and pulls out a stack of mattes.

"Here, boss," he says with a wink and then follows me as I start making my way to the living room.

"Want something to drink?" he asks.

"Yeah, anything hot."

Taking a seat on the couch, I cross my legs under me and make myself comfortable as I look at the first photo. It's a black and white image of a woman's neck and collarbone. It's backlit so everything is black except for the outline of the curves. Flipping to the next, it's another similar sensual photo. Then a photo of a naked woman lying on her back with her legs seductively crossed. I keep flipping, until my stomach is knotted up so tightly that I can't look anymore.

I set the stack facedown on the coffee table and stand up.

"I'll be right back," I say as I rush to the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

Seeing the one photo a few months ago seemed so harmless compared to all the ones I just saw. Who are all those women, and why is every picture so sensual? What is he doing with me? I could never be what those photos are, and I know he can't possibly see me in that way. I don't think I want him to see me that way. No, I definitely don't. It's not me. I'm...no, I can't even finish my thought.

Thoughts begin to flash quickly through my head, and I can't tell if I am overreacting. If he looks at women like that, then what is he doing with me? I have never really felt unsure of Ryan, but maybe I should be.

My thoughts seize for a moment when I hear Ryan tap on the door, and I wonder how long I've been in here going crazy. Apprehensively, I open the door.

"What are you doing?" he asks suspiciously as he takes a step in, and I take a step back. He can read my apprehension and gives me a confused look. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Dropping his head, he lets out a breath of irritation at my lie.

"Is it the photos?"

I don't respond when he asks, but I know it's all over my face.

"Candace, you asked to see them. You knew what they would be of."

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't think they would all be like that."

He walks in front of me and leans against the sink and says, "They're just pictures, that's all."

Sitting down on the closed toilet seat, I say, "But...they just seem so intimate."

"Babe, don't."

I look up at him and ask, because I need to know, "Did you sleep with them?"

"Yes," he responds honestly.

"How many have you...?"

"A lot."

"And you photograph them?" I say with a tinge of disbelief.

"No. I've only photographed a couple women. Most of those photos are the same person."

"Oh," I say as I drop my head, now more worried than ever. I feel uneasy sitting here in front of him when he's just told me all of this. I can't help but think what those women must have meant to him. Did he talk to them the same way he does with me? Were they all in his bed, the bed I sometimes sleep in? And what am I to him?

He crouches down in front of me and says, "I know what you're doing, and you can stop. None of them meant what you mean to me. I never had or wanted a relationship with them."

"Then why?"

Holding my hands, he admits, "Because for most of my life I've been lost. I dealt with a lot of shit growing up, and I used women as a way to escape. But when I met you...you're just different. I wanted to know you, really know you. You're nothing like those women. Nothing. I've never looked at them or wanted them the way I do you."

"I don't know what I'm doing," I shamefully confess.

"I don't either."

"I mean...I haven't..."

"Been with anyone?"

When I cover my face with my hands, he grips me behind my waist and brings me down to the floor with him, sitting sideways between his legs. Holding me, knowing I must be embarrassed, he says, "Talk to me."

"Only once, but he was really drunk and it...well, it was pretty much over before it begun."

"Sounds like an asshole."

"He was, but it kept my parents off my back. They really liked him and his family, so we would go out every now and then, but that was about it. So, I can't help but sometimes wonder what you're doing with me." Crap! Did I really just admit that?

"Look at me," he says, and when I do, he continues, "I don't give a shit how inexperienced you are. In fact, I prefer that because the thought of another guy touching you pisses me off. That guy was a dick for treating you like you were disposable. But don't devalue yourself because of that. I won't rush you into anything. You know that right?"

When I nod my head, he says, "You're what I want. No one else, okay?"

"I just get scared, and I feel like you might start thinking you're wasting your time with me. I know you'd prefer that I stay every night here with you, but that's what scares me. I just need to move slow with this."

"You're not a waste of my time. You're worth every second."

Sighing with a mild feeling of relief, I smile as he leans down and gives me a slow, soft kiss.

When I let a giggle slip out, he breaks our kiss and asks, "What?"

"Can we get off your bathroom floor now?"

Laughing, he stands up and holds out his hand to help me up.

"Let's get out of here," he says.

"Where are we going?"

"Let's go hang out at Zoca's and get some coffee."

"Perfect."

Regardless of the rain, we decide to sit outside, drink our coffee, and listen to an insanely grungy street performer. Standing in the rain, he strums the somber chords of 'Something in the Way' by Nirvana as he sings the doleful lyrics. Listening to this stranger sing one of my favorite songs, I get lost for a moment at the familiar words.

"You know this song?" Ryan asks, and I pull myself out of my daze.

I turn to look at him, and respond, "It's one of my favorites."

"I used to listen to this a lot when I was younger."

"Hmm..."

"What?" he asks.

"I did too." When the corner of Ryan's mouth turns up in a small half smile, I say, "Go give him some money."

Snickering, he says, "What? Why?"

"Because I want him to keep playing, and he deserves to be paid." I say as I smile back at him.

He shakes his head at me in amusement when he walks over to the desolate man and drops a few bucks in his open guitar case. When he returns and sits down, he gives me a smirk. "Happy?"

Lifting my mug to my mouth, I murmur, "Mmm hmm," as I take a sip of my coffee.

"I've been wondering about something."

"What's that?" I ask.

"I need to know that you're okay with money. Since your parents aren't helping you out and you just work part-time at a coffee shop, I've been worried."

"Don't be. I'm fine. When I turned twenty-one, I gained access to my trust fund, and my parents resigned as trustees."

"I didn't want to overstep, but I needed to know you're okay."

"I am."

"Ryan, man! Where've you been?" a guy yells as he's crossing the street toward us.

Ryan stands up and walks toward him, clasping their hands together before leaning in for a quick hug as they slap each other on the back. "I've been busy keeping the bar going."

"Shit, man, last I heard that place was raking in the money."

"Something like that."

The guy looks down at me and back to Ryan. "Sorry, I'll let you get back to your friend."

"No worries. This is Candace."

He reaches out his hand, and I stand up and shake it, when he says, "I'm Gavin."

"Hey."

"Sit down and grab a drink, man," Ryan says, and Gavin pulls up a chair to our table. Ryan turns to me and says, "Gavin and I've been friends since I moved here for college."

"Oh, yeah?" I say.

"Yeah, this guy left my ass behind when he decided to buy that fuckin' bar."

"So what do you do then?"

"I work in promotions and marketing at Sub Pop Records."

"Really? That sounds like a lot of fun. Working with anyone good?" I ask.

"Ever heard of Washed Out?"

"Yeah, I have their album actually."

"Within and Without?"

"Uh huh. So they're your client?"

"Yep, one of them. We're trying to get a tour set up right now, but that shit takes forever. Before this guy got so tied up with work, he used to always come out and listen to all the bands play," he says, nodding his head at Ryan.

"You should give me a list of some of your guys, and I can check the lineup and see if I have space for any of them to perform," Ryan says.

"Yeah, man. That'd be great."

"So, Candace, what do you do besides hang out with this loser?" he says while laughing at Ryan.

"I'm a student, actually."

"U-Dub?"

"Yeah."

"What are you studying?"

"Dance. I'm a Fine Arts major."

"No shit?!"

"Yeah, man. No shit," Ryan jokes with a hint of possessiveness, and I have to laugh at his demeanor.

"Well, hey, I gotta run. I was actually on my way to a meeting, but I had to stop when I saw you."

"I'm glad you did. Sorry I've been out of pocket for the past couple months."

"No worries, but, hey, I'm throwing a party next month at my place. Everyone will be there. You should come by."

"I will. I'll call you next week."

"Oh, and if you're still around, you should come too," he says, cocking his head my way, "At least you have decent taste in music." He winks at me before saying, "Seriously though, it was nice meeting you."

Ryan looks at me and jokes, "Just ignore him."

"It was good to meet you too, Gavin."

"Take it easy, man," he says to Ryan as he starts walking off.

Turning to Ryan, I say, "So, why haven't you been hanging out with your friends?"

"I've been a little distracted for the past few months," he says with a grin, and I know he's referring to me.

Grinning, I say, "Well, don't let me keep you from your friends."

"Don't worry about my friends, I see most of them a lot 'cause they hang out at Blur to hear bands play."

"Oh." I feel like I have isolated myself from a part of Ryan's life because I never go to his bar. Maybe if I did, I would know his friends. Instead, there's this disconnect. Ryan knows my friends, albeit, only Jase and Mark, but he also chats with Roxy frequently when he stops by the coffee shop when I'm working. Although I've met his family, it would be nice to get to see him with his friends as well.

"I didn't mean how that came out," he says.

"No, I understand. You guys hang out, I just didn't know that."

Reaching over and taking my hand in his, he says, "Would you think about coming up again? We can just go together during the day. No people."

I stare at our entwined fingers, and I know that night bothers him. He hasn't mentioned anything since or questioned me about it, but I know it hurt him that I bailed with Jase and didn't turn to him. But, I don't know if I can ever go there again.

When I don't answer, he simply says, "Just think about it, babe."

"I will. I promise."

Hey! You home?

On way now. Leaving gym.

Mind if I stop by?

Not at all. Be there in 10.

See ya!

"Hey, Roxy," I holler over the coffee bean grinder. "I'm heading out, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for covering the shift this morning."

"No problem. Have you found anyone to replace Brandon yet?"

"I have another interview today," she says as she hands a customer their drink.

"Well, I'll be in tomorrow."

"Okay. See you then."

"See you," I say while putting on my coat and popping the hood over my head before heading out into the rain.

I've been taking over Brandon's shifts after he had to quit a few days ago. I'm not taking as many hours in school right now, so I have the free time. Now I need to run by Ryan's and pick up that photo so that I can submit it to Thinkspace Art Gallery. I didn't bother selecting photos when I was over there last Thursday. That sort of turned into a mess that led to confessions on the bathroom floor. Not my finest moment, but let's face it, those are few and far between these days.

But, I only need that one photo that originally caught my eye. When I walk into his loft, I can hear the shower running upstairs, so I go into his office. Sliding the door open to his credenza, I notice the mattes aren't there. I head back into the living room to look around, but I can't find them.

"Hey, babe," Ryan says while he's walking down the stairs. He's dressed, but his hair is still wet from his shower.

"Hey."

"What are you scrounging around for?" he asks as he cradles my cheeks and kisses me.

"Your mattes. I can't find them."

Kissing me again, he briefly pauses to say, "That's because they're not here," before covering my mouth with his again.

"Where are they?" I mumble against his lips.

Pausing again, he says, "I tossed them," and then he kisses me again.

I pull back in surprise. "What?! Why?"

"Because they made you uncomfortable."

"But I was looking for the photo of the woman's back so I could submit it to the gallery."

"I don't have it. I threw them all away."

Flopping down on the large leather chair behind me, I let out a defeated sigh.

Ryan sits on the coffee table in front of me, elbows resting on his knees, and asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I was just excited to submit that photo." Leaning my head back on the chair, I mumble, "Maybe it was a stupid idea."

"Is it that important to you?"

"I just thought if you saw one of your pieces in a showing, that you would see the art in it."

Giving me a smile, he says, "It wasn't difficult to capture or enhance. I can recreate it if you want."

"We don't have time for you to find someone to pose. It needs to be submitted tomorrow by the end of the day."

"We don't need to find anyone. Let's go upstairs. I'll shoot your back," he suggests and I feel my face flush at the thought of him photographing me.

"No."

"No, what?"

"I'm not taking my top off for you to photograph me."

He leans in and rests his hands on my knees. "You don't have to take anything off, promise. It's an extreme close-up; you only need to hike it up a little."

His original photo was so beautiful; there is no way he could capture that with me.

Standing up, he takes ahold of my hand and lifts me out of the chair.

"What?"

"We're going upstairs."

I tug my hand away. "Ryan, no."

He turns around to look at me. "What's wrong?"

"It feels weird to me."

"Don't let it."

"You just can't say that and expect me to be okay," I say and fold my arms across my chest. "I'm not like the girls you took those pictures of. I'm..."

"No, you're not. You're nothing like them, which is why I threw them in the garbage." Cupping my face again, he kisses me before assuring, "I only want you. No one else. The only photos I want are ones of you."

When we walk into his room, my heart starts beating faster. I sense the dampness on my palms and they begin to tingle with nerves.

Ryan goes into his closet and pulls out his camera. Walking toward the windows, he pulls the drapes shut and the room darkens. He takes my hand and leads me over to the bed.

"Just lie on your stomach."

I swallow hard against the lump that's lodged in my throat and lie on the bed, folding my arms beneath my head. Staring at him as he climbs onto the bed next to me on his knees, my body tenses when I feel him touch the hem of my shirt.

"I'm just going to lift it up a little."

Taking a deep breath through my nose, I close my eyes and feel his hand graze my back as he pulls my shirt up and tucks it under my bra.

"You okay?"

"Mmm hmm." My heart is still racing, and I'm very aware of myself.

The bed shifts, and when I open my eyes, Ryan is kneeling beside the bed, focusing on his camera and adjusting the settings. I take a calming breath and concentrate on what he's doing to take my mind off of how awkward and exposed I feel right now.

Holding the camera up to his eye, he sets the flash and starts fidgeting with the camera again. He repeats this a few times, then tells me, "I'm gonna take a few test shots to get the shutter speed right, okay?"

I nod my head and watch him as he leans in close to me, his camera up to his eye. The loud clicks of the camera startle me slightly, and my body tightens as I flinch. I'm hyperaware of everything around me as I lie here in the dark.

He reaches over me and picks up a pillow. "Here, lean up," he says and I push my chest off the bed as he places the pillow under me. "I just need a little more curve to your spine. Just lay down and relax."

He kneels back down and moves in close to me with the camera back up to his eye. "That's perfect," he mumbles, and I begin to hear the fast clicking of the camera. The flash pulses in pops of light in the dark room. And before I know it, it's dark and quiet again. The bed dips back down as he sits next to me, untucking my shirt from my bra and pulling it back down over my back.

Bracing his arms on the mattress on either side of my shoulders, he hovers over me and lowers himself to kiss my cheek.

"Thanks," he says with a soft rasp.

I shift to my side, and he lies next to me, pulling me closer to him. He lightly brushes his lips against mine before pressing into me. Weaving my fingers through his hair, I pull him even closer. My stomach starts to flutter, and an overwhelming need for closeness takes over. Being with him like this makes me want to open myself up. I feel safe in his arms and the feelings that come with it are intense. Feelings I have never had for anyone else before. I want to be close to him, but I'm so uncomfortable with myself. I worry I'll embarrass myself if he touches me in a way I can't handle. I worry that I'll be a disappointment to him.

Rolling me on my back, he begins to trail his warm damp kisses down my neck and along my shoulder. I grasp onto his arms and feel the flexing of his muscles under my hands as he moves across my collarbone. He reaches down, placing his hand on the side of my thigh, and squeezes as he starts to glide it slowly upward. My breath catches, and I quickly clamp my hand around his wrist. Pulling his head back, he studies my face, and I whisper, "Sorry."

"You don't ever have to be sorry."

I gently nod my head.

In a whisper, he says, "God, you're beautiful."

"So, you have to tell me what's going on with you and Ryan," Roxy says as we move around, making drinks for the line of people waiting.

"I don't really know."

"You like him, right?"

I look at her as I steam some milk for a customer's latte and she prompts me, "Right?"

Snapping the lid on the cup, I walk over and hand it to the girl who's waiting on the other side of the counter. Roxy steps next to me as she hands a drink to another customer. We walk back over to the machines and I finally admit, "I do."

When she looks at me, I clarify, "Like him. I do."

A sincere smile slowly creeps across her face and I become embarrassed. "Stop!"

"Oh, come on Candace! Give me a break here. I've known you for almost three years and you have never shown an interest in anyone. Let me enjoy this."

"You're embarrassing me."

"Sweetie, everything embarrasses you. Get over it," she says with a sincere smirk.

As we continue to fill drink orders, Roxy begins asking a multitude of questions, all of which I avoid answering. When the last drink is made and the shop calms down, we both take a seat and relax from the Monday morning rush.

"Well, even though you won't tell me anything, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. Now will you stop?" I tease.

"For the time being, I'll stop," she says with a grin.

My phone chimes from under the counter. When I retrieve it, I see I have a missed text from Ryan.

Your photo from yesterday is almost finished. Touching up the lighting.

Getting off work in 30 min. Can I stop by?

Yeah.

"Ryan?" Roxy pries.

"Didn't you just say you would stop?"

Laughing, she teases me again. "So secretive."

"I'm going to the back to refill the syrup bottles. Yell for me if it gets busy."

"Yeah, yeah," she says as she waves me away.

It's nice to be able to joke around with Roxy again. The tension has definitely lightened in the past few weeks, and I know the reason for that is waiting for me at his loft right now.

I can't contain my smile when I think about us in his bed yesterday. The way my skin tingles when he kisses me, the way I soften when he holds me, the fluttering I feel when he whispers his words to me. Even though it's all so new, it's also so comforting.

I could tell he was disappointed when I didn't spend the night with him, but he understands that I don't feel comfortable being there every night. Although I love being with him, I'm still scared about moving forward.

When the bottles are refilled, I walk back into the store and put them back on the shelf. I start to gather my things and clock out.

As I'm walking out the door, Roxy can't help herself when she says loudly, "Tell your hot-ass boyfriend I said 'hi.'"

I roll my eyes at her as I open the door to leave.

Leaning against Ryan's desk, he hands me the large matte, and I cannot believe how well the photo turned out. Everything is black except for the curve of the back—my back—which is a striking muted grey with a shadow cast along the spine—my spine.

I stand there, staring at the photo, every detail of the photo. When I do look up, Ryan is focused on me with a grin on his face.

"What?" I ask.

"You."

"Me?"

Stepping in front of me, he takes the matte out of my hands and places it on the desk behind me. He slides his arms around my waist and pulls me into him and says, "You're fucking amazing," and kisses me with an intensity I haven't felt from him before. I let myself fall into him as his lips tangle with mine. When he dips his tongue in my mouth, I can taste the coolness that is left over from the mints he's addicted to. I feel so connected to him right now, and I never want to lose this feeling. So, when he breaks our kiss, I can't help the moan that creeps past my lips.

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine, and I can hear his heavy breaths. Placing my hands on his face, I move in to selfishly kiss him, to feel the warmth of his touch on me. Gripping my waist, he lifts me onto his desk as he stands between my legs. Holding the back of my head, he intensifies our kiss, and I let him take more control than I have in the past.

When his shoulders tense up under my hands, he pulls away. I know it's hard for him to stop himself when we are together like this.

"Do you know how hard it was to concentrate on touching up that photo of you?

As I shake my head, he tells me, "You're so fucking beautiful."

I believe him when he says those words to me. I might not feel that way in a day from now, or even an hour from now. But right now, in this moment—I believe him.