FADING (A novel)(79)

“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.”