"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.