Falling

25

Candace stopped by a few days ago to pick up the photo after I finished enhancing it. I think she was surprised to see herself like that. Even if it was just the sway of her back, the photo was beyond sensual. For some reason, she’s really uncomfortable with exposing herself. She’s confident in her body—it would be odd if she wasn’t, being a dancer and all—but being comfortable with herself in a sexual way doesn’t seem to come easily for her. It could just be that she’s never been that way with a man, but I see her starting to try with me.

The whole thing got me thinking about how I spend my time. Candace keeps herself busy with work and school, but mostly with dance. She loves it; it’s her passion in life, and I admire her focus. I don’t have a focus like that in my life, and although she takes it a step beyond most people, I feel like I need to find something outside of work and Candace to do with my time. I talked to her about this yesterday on the phone, and she encouraged me to spend more of my time working on my photography.

I’ve always enjoyed the editing aspect of it, but never took a whole lot of pleasure in the actual shoots until last weekend when she let me shoot her. She made me a very loose promise that she would let me photograph her again, and I plan on holding her to her word.

I hear my phone chime in the next room, and I’m surprised to see Gavin’s name when I open his text.

You at work?

Home. What’s up?

In the area. Mind if I stop by for a while?

Come on over.

After the random run-in that Candace and I had with him the other week, I didn’t think I would actually hear from him when he said he would be in touch. But when he gets here, he says he just wanted to stop by and catch up. So we crack open a couple of beers and flip on ESPN, hanging out like we used to do, simply killing time.

“So I ran into Max and his girlfriend the other night,” he tells me.

“Oh yeah, where at?”

“Lakeside,” he says and then takes a pull of his beer before adding, “Did you know she’s pregnant?”

“Yeah, man. I knew.”

Shaking his head, he says, “I couldn’t believe it when he told me that shit. We used to have so much fun before he got tied down with that chick. Speaking of chicks, who was that girl you were with the other day?”

Looking over at him, I don’t even know why I’m even gonna waste my time telling him, but I do. “We’ve been seeing each other.”

He gives me a smirk and says, “Nice, man,” mistaking my word seeing for hooking up with.

“No, I mean we’re together,” I clarify.

Giving his head a questioning tilt, he says, “She doesn’t seem your type.”

“She’s exactly my type.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, man. I’m sure about that,” I tell him, annoyed with his almost condescending tone.

He takes my hint and changes the subject, asking, “You gonna be at the bar tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ve been going in on Friday nights to free up my weekends lately.”

“A few buddies of mine were gonna hit up Monkey Pub, but we’ll stop by to hang out if you have time for a drink.”

“Yeah, come by. I think Mark and a couple guys from the band are gonna be there too,” I say when there’s a knock on the door.

I’m surprised when I open it to see Candace standing there. “Hey, babe! What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you before you left for work,” she says with a smile before I pick her up off the ground in my arms and give her a kiss, appreciating the unexpected visit.

“I’ve missed you this week,” I tell her when I set her down.

“Sorry. Auditions are in a few weeks, and then I won’t be living in the studio.”

“Candace!” Gavin says from behind me.

“Hey, Gavin. What are you doing here?”

“Just stopped by to bullshit with Ryan.”

She looks up at me, saying, “I’m sorry, I should have called before stopping by.”

Before I can respond, Gavin takes her hand and pulls her inside. “Wanna beer?”

“Um, no.”

“I’ll get you a water,” I tell her as I walk by, knowing she just got out of a two-hour studio.

“Thanks.”

She takes off her coat, and the two of them sit on the couch. When I return with her water, I hear Gavin making fun of her bun, saying, “What’s with the hair, grandma?”

“Don’t be a dick,” I tell him when I sit down, pulling her to my side.

“I was in the dance studio all day,” she says and then takes a long drink of water.

“How’d that go?” I ask.

“It actually went pretty well. My instructor complimented me on my solo.”

“Really? That’s great, babe.”

Candace’s instructor has been continuing to ride her ass a lot, so I’m glad today was a good day for her because she’s been really upset about it.

“Well, actually all she said was ‘That’s better,’ but coming from her, that’s huge.”

“You coming out with us tonight?” Gavin asks her.

“Umm . . .” She turns to look at me, and I explain, “Gavin’s just coming by the bar tonight with some friends, that’s all.”

“Oh. No, I’ve got plans,” she tells him.

“What are you doing?” I ask, not remembering her telling me of any plans for tonight.

“I’m going to Jase’s to hang out. We haven’t had a lot of time to see each other lately.”

Wanting to be alone with her for a moment because I need more than the short kiss I got when she walked in, I stand and say, “Come with me to my office before you go.”

We start walking down the hall when Gavin snarks, “If you guys are gonna fuck, I’m out.”

“Dude!” I snap, pissed that he would say shit like that in front of my girl who already has enough insecurity about this shit.

Shrugging his shoulders, he says, “What? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

I see the way Candace is looking at him. She’s embarrassed when he adds, “Just sayin’.”

Taking her back to my office, I know she’s upset when I close the door and brace my hands on either side of her, caging her against the door, and I see it. It’s all over her face. The doubt.

“Sorry about that. The guy has no filter,” I tell her lightly. But she isn’t looking at me, and she isn’t talking.

“Candace,” I quietly say as she lowers her eyes to the floor, and I hate that she has to know that side of me. A side I’m ashamed of because I want to give her so much more than what I am. I’m embarrassed that she knows how much I used to use people.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe out.

“Did you really do that?” she asks with a shaky voice when she looks at me.

Mortified to have to admit this to her, I nod my head and answer, “Yes.”

I watch as her eyes begin to fill with tears, and I instantly hate all my choices before her. She blinks and the tears roll down her cheeks.

“Is that what you want?”

Taking her head and cradling it in my hands, I try to assure her with everything I have when I say, “No. I was miserable then. None of them ever gave me what you give me.”

“That’s the problem, though. I can’t give you what they could.”

“You give me everything,” I say, trying to convince her of the raw truth as I use my thumbs to wipe the tears from under her eyes. I feel my chest constrict when I try to make her believe my words. “You have more of me than any of them ever had. And when you’re ready to move forward, I can promise you that it won’t be like what I had with them. It was just empty with them.”

I rest my head against hers, wishing I could take back all those times I gave myself away to women I never even cared about. Wishing that it could have always been her because she’s all I want. She’s all I have ever wanted, and she doesn’t deserve to feel like shit because of my past choices.

“I shouldn’t be upset. I didn’t know you then,” she rationalizes.

“You have every right to be upset.”

Her next move is much too forgiving, more than I deserve, and I’m not sure how she can be so understanding about all this when she wraps her hands around the back of my neck and draws me down to her lips. I feel like I don’t deserve all of the good that’s inside of her, and I let out a sigh as she moves her lips over mine and holds me close. Gripping her waist in my hands, I keep my lips on her when I say, “I’ve missed you.”

She seals her lips with mine, kissing me intently as we both cling to one another. The taste of her on my tongue is intoxicating and there’s no doubt. There’s no question. She has a part of me that I never knew was up for grabs, but she has it.

Parting our lips, I ask, “Stay with me tonight?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I promised Jase I’d stay with him.”

I haven’t had her in my bed since last Sunday, and it frustrates me to know that she’ll be in Jase’s tonight and not mine. That she’ll be in his arms and not mine. I respect Jase, and I understand their relationship, but I want to be the only man that she shares a bed with.

“You have to work anyway,” she says.

“I want you in my bed when I get home.”

“Ryan . . .” she whispers, and I know she doesn’t want me to push it, so I drop it—for now.

She cups my jaw in her hands and kisses me slowly before saying, “I should go.”

After I walk her out and say goodbye for the night, I close the door and turn back to Gavin. “Don’t ever say shit like that around her again.”

“You really like her, don’t you?” he asks, taking in my severity about the matter.

“Yeah, man. I do. And that shit just hurt her. She knows about my past, but she doesn’t need you throwing it in her face.”

“Dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were that serious about her,” he says as I walk over and sit down in a chair next to him. “I’m just a little shocked. I’ve known you for years and never thought I’d see you like this.”

“Me neither, but shit changes, Gav.”

When I got home from work last night, I found it hard to sleep, thinking about Candace over at Jase’s when I just wanted her with me. But it’s more than that. She runs to him for everything, she always has, and until I came along, he’s all she ever had. But I don’t like the feeling that I have to compete, that I have to convince her to let me be that guy for her when she should want me to be that guy.

She needs to realize that she can trust me enough to come to me for anything. That she doesn’t have to hold back from me. But I also know how I feel about her, and I don’t think any guy would like the idea of their girlfriend sharing a bed with another man, gay or not. Having her in my arms at night is special, and I want her to only share that with me.

I don’t know how she’s gonna react, but I need to tell her how I feel about this because I don’t like losing sleep over it. So I don’t even call her to let her know I’m stopping by her house. She’s happy when she opens the door and sees me, giving me a hug before taking me back to her room. She’s got books everywhere and she gathers them up and shuts down her laptop before joining me on her bed. When she sits down, I decide to go ahead and cut to it.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” she says curiously as she folds her legs in front of her.

“Look, I get your relationship with Jase, and I haven’t ever had any issues with it, but I don’t like that you guys still sleep together,” I tell her honestly, laying it out there.

“But, it’s not like that.”

“I know,” I tell her, completely understanding their relationship. “But I still don’t like it.”

“But . . .”

I turn to face her straight on, placing my hands on her knees when I explain, “I know it isn’t like that with you two. I get it. But I don’t like the thought of you in bed with another man holding you. I want to be that guy. I want you to want me to be that guy, not Jase.” My voice cracks when I say that last part because it hurts me to even have to ask her to want me like that.

“I want you to be that guy, but I don’t know how,” she tells me, and I’m glad she isn’t shutting down, but instead, opening up. “Jase is so unthreatening to me because he’s just my friend.”

“Why do you think I’m threatening?” I ask, bothered that after all this time together, she’s still scared of me.

I notice her nerves hitting her when she begins squeezing her hands together, but she continues to talk when she admits, “Because you could easily walk away from me.”

“You think it would be easy for me to walk away?” I ask, dumbfounded that she can’t see right through me to know how I feel about her. “It wouldn’t be easy, babe. And I doubt there is anything you could say, or do, that would make me want to walk away. It kills me that you’re so scared of me.”

She takes a moment before she locks her eyes with mine, and finally gives me a piece of her that I’ve been dying for when she reveals, “You’re the only person I’ve ever felt this way about, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Her words hit hard, and I just need to be close to her when I shift to my knees and lower her onto the bed, kissing her. Slowly. I hold her head in my hands, and I can’t go another day without exposing my feelings to her, so when I break away, I give it to her.

“You’re not gonna lose me, babe. I love you too much to let you go.”

She’s doesn’t even need to say it back to me. I don’t need the verbal affirmation because the tears that spill out of her eyes and down her temples are all I need to know that she loves me too. She nods her head, telling me in her own way before I lean down and cover her sweet lips with mine. She opens her mouth and I take more of her, caressing her tongue with mine. When I do this, she grabs my hair and pulls my weight on top of her.

Shifting slightly to the side, I drag my knuckles along her bare skin between her shirt and pants. Her muscles tremble under my touch, but she does nothing to slow me down. I pay attention to her cues, cautious to not push her too far when I slowly slip my hand under the hem of her top and begin running it up the span of her stomach. Her breathing grows heavy, and her grip on me tightens when I hit the bottom of her bra. I stop my hand, waiting for her permission, and it’s in this moment that I realize she has her head buried in the crook of my neck.

“It’s okay,” she breathes against my skin, and suddenly, I feel too much.

Dropping my mouth onto her shoulder, I kiss and gently suck along the curve of her neck. When I slide my hand over her breast, she lets out a soft whimper, and I hold her in my hand, feeling the lace against my skin.

“God, you’re perfect,” I whisper against her lips.

When I graze my thumb over her hardened nipple, she pushes her head harder into my shoulder, and I need to see her.

Pulling my head away from her, I say, “Don’t hide from me, babe.”

She’s timid when she lowers her head onto the pillow and opens her eyes. I watch her as I run my fingers along the edge of the lace, touching the smooth skin of her chest. I can see the tension in the crease between her eyes as her brows pinch together. She’s in her head and not here with me. Wanting her to stop thinking so much, I gently squeeze her small breast in my hand, and when I do, she grabs my face and pulls me down, kissing me.

Her legs tangle with mine, but her body is stiff as she keeps still beneath me. Hearing the way she’s breathing though is hot as hell, and I want to feel more of her. So I hook my fingers under the seam of her bra and tug the fabric down, but when I do, her whole body instantly locks up.

“Please, don’t.” Her words come out quick, and I immediately slide my hand out from under her top, and move it to her head, threading my fingers in her hair. “I’m sorry.”

I hate hearing those words from her. I hate that she feels like she’s doing something wrong.

“Look at me,” I say, and the words come out strong. “When we’re together like this, I don’t ever want you to be sorry for anything, okay?”

She nods her head, and I soften my tone with a kiss before telling her again, “I love you, babe.”

I never thought I would say those words to a girl. Never thought I would be able to open myself to being vulnerable enough to feel those emotions, but with her, it comes so easily. I realize now that the hard part was keeping myself so far removed, seeking the disconnect, but with her, I crave the connection. It’s all I want with her.