Falling (Fading Series) (5 page)

“Shit,” I exhale as I fist her hair and take control over her. Selfish? Yeah, I’m selfish. Escaping for my moment, not thinking. Enjoying. All thoughts vanishing from my mind. This is my vice. It used to be drugs. I rolled on X when I was in high school, but
this,
well this is just my version of a healthier release.

Zipping up my pants, she runs her fingers through my hair. This is the part I hate. I turn cold to make it clear that this wasn’t anything more than what it just was.

“Thanks.”

“Thanks?”

Opening the door, I step out and hold my hand out for her. “Like I said, I’m tired.”

She hops down and hesitantly says, “You wanna call me sometime?”

“I don’t do the whole girlfriend thing.”

She nods her head, and my guilt appears as she turns to walk back into the bar without saying anything else. I take a moment and enjoy the rain that’s falling, but when I hear my name being called, I turn around to see a familiar blonde walking my way from across the lot.

“Gina,” she says, answering my unspoken question, and I suddenly remember the girl I had in my office a few days ago. “What are you doing out here in the rain?” she asks as she leans up against my car.

“Nothing. About to head home.”

“Alone?”

“Alone.”

She takes me by surprise when she shoves her hand in my back pocket and finds my cell, pulling it out.

“What’re you doing?” I ask when she starts punching something into my phone.

“Storing my number,” she explains. She hands it to me when she’s done and says, “For when you don’t want to be alone,” before heading inside.

“Dude! You said help with
some
furniture, not a whole house full,” I complain to Max as we stand inside Traci’s home.

“You have something else going on today?”

“If I said yes, would you let me off?”

He looks over at me with a straight face and admonishes, “You want me kicking your ass?”

Shaking my head, I laugh and say, “That’s what I figured.”

Walking over to her large sectional couch, he starts pulling off the cushions. “Come on.”

We begin to load the furniture into the U-Haul when Max asks, “What are you doing later tonight?”

“No plans. I need to run up to the bar to see if Michael was able to get any bands booked,” I say as I jump down from the truck to go inside for another load.

“You wanna stop by later? We’re having a few friends over.”

“
We’re?
” I question.

Max just looks over at me and laughs. Although he and Traci have been together for a while, I know I’ll be seeing much less of him now that they’re living together. But hanging out with a house full of domesticated bliss isn’t my idea of fun, so I tell him, “I’m probably gonna call it an early night.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

We spend the next two hours loading everything up in the truck before driving it over to Max’s house. Once everything is moved, I head into the office to get some work done and to talk with Michael. He was able to book a few bands and hire Chase, Max’s buddy, to work the door. Since it looks like he has everything under control, I call it a night and go home.

Hopping out of the shower, I throw on a pair of pajama bottoms before going downstairs to watch some TV. I settle myself on the couch and flip on an old movie, one that I’ve seen countless times, but I watch it anyway.

An email notification lights up my phone, and I pick it up to see that it’s work stuff that Michael sent. Not wanting to hack into it tonight, I start mindlessly going through my phone, opening apps, and wasting time. I begin scrolling through my contacts and stop when I see Gina’s info scan by. I tap on her name and stare at her number.

“For when you don’t want to be alone.”

She’s one chick that didn’t make me feel bad after we hooked up. She got it. She accepted it for what it was, and clearly she’s on the same page as me.

Before I know it, the phone is ringing, and when she answers, I say, “Hey. It’s Ryan.”

“Hi. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. You busy?” I ask, keeping the chitchat to a minimum.

“Not anymore.”

“Gotta pen?”

I give her my address, and when there’s a knock on my door about thirty minutes later, I drag myself off the couch to see her standing on my doorstep.

Long blonde hair, tall, and wearing clothes that makes her look like she’s trying a bit too hard for something that’s a guaranteed giveaway.

Her heels click against my hardwood floors when she walks in, smile-clad face as she gives me the lookover.
At least I won’t feel guilty with her.
I tell myself this a couple times before I take her hand and kiss her. She doesn’t stop me or even slow me down as we stumble across the room.

It isn’t long before she’s bent over my couch, ditching her self-respect just to moan my name in what is nothing more than another throw of diversion. But I’m no better. I’m far from respectable. So the both of us use each other for the mere minutes that we’re able to hold on before lust takes over, and we lose control of ourselves.

As I yank up my pants, she rights herself and turns to face me, sated.

“I’m glad you called.”

I nod my head and start walking over to my kitchen to grab a drink. “You thirsty?” I offer.

“Yeah. Umm, where’s your bathroom?” she asks, and I point down the hall.

“It’s on the right.”

“Thanks.”

When she returns, she situates herself close to me on the couch, getting more comfortable than she should, but I don’t say anything.

As she picks up her glass of water, she says, “So you have the night off?” before taking a sip.

“I don’t keep a schedule,” I tell her, and when she doesn’t respond, I clarify, “It’s my bar. I own it.”

“That’s right. I remember hearing that from Gavin.”

“How do you know Gavin?” I ask.

“He stops by my place every now and then.”

Giving her a confused look, she assures, “Not to see me. My roommate, Ashley, and him have known each other for a while.”

Nodding my head, she continues, “Bar must do pretty well.”

“Why do you say that?”

“This is a big space you have. It’s nice.” She takes another sip of water and sets the glass down on the coffee table.

I bought this loft with the money my father left behind. When he died, everything stayed locked up in an account, untouched for years. My mother wanted nothing to do with it for the longest time. She lived off of the interest, which was more than enough to support us.

My father dealt in acquisitions, making a name for himself until he no longer had a name to make. I was still living with Gavin in an apartment after I graduated college when I fell into my business deal with the bar. I had been wanting a place of my own, but with the money I was sinking into the buyout, I couldn’t afford anything. When I stumbled upon this place, it was perfect. The previous owner had done a full remodel, so it was turnkey ready. I couldn’t turn it down, especially with the housing market in the shitter. I tapped into my father’s money, bought it, and never looked back.

“It’s getting late,” I tell her.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Her inquiry is laced with curiosity to get to know me.

“No.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’ll see you later?”

Knowing that her offer is probably the one with the least repercussions, I say, “I’ll call you.” This chick is a no strings girl. Perfect.

She stands up, and I walk her to the door, giving her a chaste kiss before she leaves.

It wasn’t but a few days after I had Gina over that she called me. We’ve been getting together for the past couple of weeks. It beats having to go out all the time only to wind up back at square one. But the last time she came over, she wasn’t so quick to leave. I know my reputation; girls know it too. But if this one thinks that she’s gonna be the one to tie me down, she’s got it all wrong.

I know I’m only making it worse as I lie here, watching her pad out of the room to go grab me a bottle of water. But what she gives me is what I need. So I take.

When she walks back into the room, holding my camera, she says in a flirty voice, “What kind of pictures do you have stored on this?” She slips back into bed, still naked, and I take the camera from her that I left out earlier today when I was taking pictures of one of Mel’s friends. “You photograph people?”

“Mainly.”

“Really?” she responds with a hint of excitement.

“Really,” I say.

I’ve always loved art, and photography is something I started tinkering with while I was in college. I don’t do a whole lot of it, but what little I do, I enjoy. It’s nice to have something to focus on every now and then.

Rolling onto her stomach, she peers up at me and whispers, “Photograph me.”

I step out of the bed and find my boxers slung across the room. Pulling them on, I walk back to where she’s lying and focus on her back. She has a curvy figure, which enhances the sway of her spine. I zoom in and start shooting. She has no idea what I’m photographing when I stop snapping and look up to see her giving seductive looks into the camera. I don’t want her face, just the line of her back.

After I get my shots, I instruct, “Sit up and face away from me.”

She does, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. I swipe the hair off of her shoulder and bring it around to her other shoulder. I then get a few shots of the contour of her neck. I’m close, and when I move to the side of her, she shifts to kiss me. There’s something to it. Something I’m not feeling.

Quickly pulling back, I say, “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not that guy.”

“I don’t believe that,” she whispers, and it’s now that I see the shift. I see the strings. “You’ve had me in your bed for weeks now,” she says.

I don’t want to make her feel like crap, but I don’t want to lie either. “This isn’t my bed.”

When she shakes her head, confused, I clarify, “My bed is upstairs.”