Behind His Lens(29)

“That’s true, you’re one moody *. I almost feel bad for Charley.” He shoots me a grin as he starts his reps.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mock, rolling my eyes.

He breathes heavily as he lifts the bar in quick successions. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but don’t f*ck Charley over,” he exhales as he lowers the bar to his chest. “I actually like Naomi, and I can’t imagine she’ll keep seeing me if you screw over her best friend.”

I tug a hand angrily through my hair. “What do you think I’m doing, Bennett? She literally stripped when I took her home Saturday and I left. I left so I wouldn’t screw it up and she hated me for it. I saw the hurt in her eyes and it killed me to leave her like that.”

Bennett rests the bar back into the sockets and sits up, twisting around to face me. “I cannot believe I just heard you say that. Who are you?”

I puff my chest, trying to recover from my sappy admission. “You’re one to talk, Bennett.”

“Yeah, Jude. I’m the first to admit that our lifestyles were shallow, but I’m not running from what I feel for Naomi. I really like her and I’m not wasting time with games.”

I sigh angrily. “It’s not the same for me.” I move around to start another round of presses, wanting this sappy conversation to end already. But Bennett keeps going.

“I know. I know you have your own problems to work out. You chose that fast lifestyle to keep away the prying questions and unwanted sympathy. I just chose it because it was easy…”

His cocky smile makes me relax and I try to focus on the weight of the bar above me.

“Just figure out what you want before it’s too late.”

…

I don’t think Bennett meant to scare the shit out of me last night, but ever since our conversation my stomach hasn’t stopped churning. It feels like someone’s wringing out my organs and won’t let go. It’s not like Bennett said anything revolutionary, but hearing everything laid out so simply made it feel real, inevitable, final. I can’t toy with Charley. She’s not the type of girl you bang out of your system. She’s the type of girl that becomes your muse, the inspiration for your entire life. She makes me want to live a life that’s worthy of her, but I can’t change the past no matter how hard I try, so maybe that’s not even possible.

“Is this seat taken?” A woman asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. I look up to see her pointing to the vintage armchair next to mine. She’s smiling invitingly and it’s clear she wants to strike up a conversation.

“Oh, yes, sorry. I’m waiting on a friend.” The liquid spark dwindles in her eye before she nods and turns to find another seat. I watch her walk away with soft focus, but then the cafe’s front doors open. With a burst of bright light, Charley steps through the threshold. The sun still shines through the glass behind her, illuminating her silhouette, making her appear ethereal and intangible.

I watch her blue eyes span the bustling room, trying to find me, and my pulse spikes. I offered to meet at her apartment so we could take the subway together, but she wanted to meet here. Now that I’m watching her, I think she might have known something I didn’t. Seeing her across a crowded room sends a thrill through me and I wish so badly that she was mine. That she would see me from afar and a slow, sexy smile would grace her delicate features. She would cross the room slowly, purposefully. I would stand to greet her and when she drew near, I’d pull her into my arms and envelope myself in her sweet scent. She’d kiss me on the neck with a feather-like touch and murmur a hello into my ear.

The whirring of the coffee machine pulls me out of my reverie, but I’m left with one residual thought: I’ll make her mine. I have to.

Her eyes finally land on me and it feels like in that moment she exists solely for me. She offers me a shy smile before glancing down to her feet and heading over. She darts between tables. I stand slowly, studying her graceful movements. She looks effortlessly sexy in her ripped up jeans, white tank, scarf, and fitted leather jacket. So much so that I haven’t even collected my thoughts by the time she’s standing in front of me. We end up lingering there silently for a moment, soaking in each other’s presence and smiling like fools.

“Hi, Charley,” I murmur as my body itches to step closer. She leans forward on her tip toes and kisses my cheek. The sweet gesture is fleeting, over faster than I could’ve imagined. The skin she kissed still feels alive, like her lips and my cheek are magnetic poles trying to draw toward one another again.