Falling (Fading Series) (32 page)

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.

“What are you doing?” I ask when I see Candace walking down the stairs still in her pajamas. “Get that cute, little ass of yours upstairs and change into your running gear. It’s already after seven.”

She walks into the kitchen to where I am and says, “I’m gonna pass,” as she pulls down a coffee mug from the cabinet.

“You passed a couple days ago too. What’s going on?” I ask. Candace loves running, so I don’t get the sudden aversion.

“Nothing,” she says while she stirs the sugar into her coffee and takes it to the living room.

“Not buying it,” I call her out. “What’s up?”

“I can’t tell you,” she says coyly when I sit down next to her as she leans back, propping her legs across my lap.

“You can tell me anything. Now spill it,” I say while I run my hand up her calf and behind her knee. I love these legs.

“Uh uh,” she says with a shake of her head. “You’ll make fun of me.”

“Now I’ve
got
to know,” I respond with a much too curious grin.

“You can’t tease me. I get enough of that from Mark and Jase.”

“I can’t promise you that, babe. Come on. Out with it. Why won’t you run with me anymore?” I question.

“Because I’m scared,” she says and then quickly takes a conveniently long sip of her coffee.

“Scared of what?”

“We’re almost out of creamer.”

“That’s because you use a crap-load of it. Stop trying to distract me. Scared of what?” I ask again.

She takes a moment, and I can tell she’s trying to hide her grin when she admits, “I’m scared I’m gonna break my leg or something.”

“From running?” I ask as a chuckle slips out under my breath.

Nudging me with her foot, she says, trying to defend, “Yes, from running. It could happen.”

“From running?” I repeat. “Candace, you’re not gonna break your leg. That’s ridiculous.”

“Okay, maybe not a break,” she says when she sets her mug down on the table. “But something could happen. Pulled muscle, strained ligament. That would ruin everything. My audition is in a few weeks, and getting this solo could be the difference between having a job after graduation or not.” Although I find her seriousness amusing, she is, in fact, completely serious.

“Okay, so no running. Well, I’m proud of you for walking down the stairs this morning without any assistance. That was a big risk,” I joke with complete mockery, and this time, when she nudges me, I grab her ankle and shift to move between her legs. “You’re putting your tiny feet in a dangerous situation when you nudge me like that,” I say and then kiss her along the ticklish spot on her neck.

She begins to giggle and squirm underneath me when she tries to throw out a firm tone as she says, “Are you threatening me, Ryan Campbell?”

“You’re cute,” I continue to tease as I devour her neck with my mouth, and she can’t seem to manage to get any words out around her fit of laughter. When I pull away, she has a wide smile, but it fades with her laughter. She stares up at me and doesn’t say anything.

“What is it, babe?”

“Nothing,” she says softly.

“Tell me.”

“It’s just . . . You give me butterflies. That’s all.”

Looking down at that pretty face of hers, I tell her, “Fuck butterflies. I feel it all when I’m with you,” before kissing her. She grips my shirt in her hands, and I decide to forego the run to spend the morning making out with her.

I haven’t seen Candace much in the past couple of days now that I’m losing out on my morning runs with her. So when she texts me that one of her lectures got cancelled, I jump on the opportunity to snag some time with her even though I’m hanging out with Gavin.

In Fremont. Do you have enough time to meet me?

Yeah. Where are you?

The Barrel Thief.

In the middle of the day?

The Barrel Thief is a well-known wine and whiskey lounge that works with one of the distributors that Blur deals with. The owner called me this afternoon to swing by and sample some of the new ales he got in, and when Gavin called to hang out, I invited him along.

Think of it as a work thing. ; ) I’m here with Gav.

I’ll be there in 10.

When she walks in and takes off her raincoat, she slides into the booth next to me with a big smile on her face.

“What’s that smile all about?” I ask.

“You two are the only ones in here. Are they even open?”

“Ryan has good connections,” Gavin says, and when I kiss her temple, I tell her, “The owner is a friend of mine. Wanted to show me what one of his distributors was able to get him.”

“Where’s he at?”

“Had to take a call. Here, try this,” I say as I slide the glass over to her.