E. Blair - Falling

“I don’t . . . I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. Just know that you have me. I’m here because of you. I’m yours because I don’t want to give myself to anyone else. No one could ever compare to you.”

I can barely focus on the road as I drive to Thinkspace for the gallery showing tonight. Candace looks amazing in the lace dress she’s wearing. I never thought pencil skirts were sexy until I saw them on her. Most of her dressier outfits are of the same style and tonight, I would have rather stayed in with the dress tossed to the floor, but I have every intention of ending the night that way.

Candace hasn’t stayed over with me since she went back home, and I’ve missed not having her there with me. I also worry. There is rarely a night when she doesn’t have problems sleeping. Ever since that one horrifying nightmare, she’s been back on her sleeping pill, but she says they only help control the really vivid dreams. She still wakes often from night terrors, and I don’t like the idea of her dealing with that alone, but she insists that she’s fine.

When we arrive, I help Candace down from her seat and lead her inside. She’s been so excited for tonight, inviting Jase, Mark, and Gavin. I never took my photography that seriously until lately. I’ve been spending more time shooting, mostly Candace, and editing. I like the focus of having a hobby, and knowing that I can share that with her is a bonus.

“I’m really proud of you, you know?” she says as we walk inside.

“Babe, the only reason that photo is on display is because you’re in it. You’re perfect.”

I take her coat and check it when I hear a lady call, “Candace!”

“Stacy, hi,” Candace says and hugs a tall, slender woman who looks close to my age with short, raven hair.

“That dress is amazing,” she says to Candace.

“Thank you.”

“And this is . . .?” she asks as she looks at me.

“Ryan,” Candace introduces.

“Ahh, ‘Nubile.’ Beautiful photograph,” she says as I reach out to take her hand. “I’m Stacy Keets. I work at the Henry Gallery.”

“Ryan Campbell,” I say.

“Well, your piece is great. I saw a couple eying it a minute ago. Do you have more pieces?”

“A few,” I tell her. “It wasn’t ever something I intended to show anyone or have displayed, but Candace insisted,” I add with a smile as I wrap my hand around her waist.

“I’m glad she did. I’d love to see more of your work,” she tells me before looking at Candace and asking, “Do you still have my number?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Give me a call,” she says to me. “We have some wall space opening up soon, so if you’re interested, we can discuss the possibility of displaying some of your pieces.”

“Will do. I’ll have Candace give me your number.”

She turns back to Candace, telling her, “And I owe you a congratulations. I heard about your audition from Sergej.”

“I hope it was all good.”

She softens her voice when she says, “He thinks people will be fighting for you to sign with their companies.”

“I can only hope,” Candace responds with her modesty that I love so much. She’s humble and gracious. She knows she’s amazing but would never say it out loud.

“No hoping. I’m looking forward to seeing you perform in May.”

“Thank you. I’ll be sure Ryan calls you,” she tells Stacy.

“Enjoy your night.”

“You too, Stacy,” I say and then head over to the bar where we spot Jase and Mark.

“Hey, man,” Mark says when we approach.

We visit for a few minutes when Candace excuses herself to roam around the gallery with Jase. Art showings really aren’t my thing, so I grab a beer and chat with Mark. I don’t wait too long before I make my way over to the registrar.

Walking up to the desk, there’s an elderly woman in a black cocktail dress who greets me. “Sir, how can I help you?”

Leaning my elbows on the counter, I say, “I’d like to inquire about one of the pieces being shown.”

“Title?”

“‘Nubile.’”

After a few clicks on the computer, she says, “It’s been flagged by three interests, but no purchases yet.”

“I’d like to purchase it then.”

“Great! I have it marked for twelve hundred.”

Shit. I had no idea my work would be worth that much. I had the photo canvassed in a large 24x40 wrap after it was accepted.

When I hand her my credit card, she begins to explain, “The piece is scheduled to remain on display until mid-April. At that time, preparatory will wrap it and have the piece delivered, unless you would like to pick it up yourself.”

“Delivery is fine.”

“Name?”

“Ryan Campbell.”

She types it into her system and then looks up at me. “Ryan Campbell?”

“Yes.”

She grins, asking, “Mr. Campbell, is this your piece?”

I respond with a mere wink as she continues to enter my information. There is no way in hell I’d let that photo of my girl hang in anyone’s home but my own. Taking that photo was a huge deal for her, and I wasn’t lying when I told her it was hers. She doesn’t know I’m buying it. She’d probably be mad if she knew, but that’s a memory I refuse to let someone else enjoy.

Once I finish with the purchase, I walk around and find Candace sitting on a bench with Jase.

“There you are,” I say as I walk over to them. Jase stands and excuses himself, giving me and Candace time alone. “Where have you been?”

“Just walking around with Jase,” she says as she leans into me.

“I heard someone bought your photo.”

“Really?” she questions excitedly, and I get a kick out of her enthusiasm. But I’m done here tonight. I just want to be alone with her, away from everyone, because I’ve missed her.

I stand up and take her hand. “Walk with me.”

When she slides her hand in mine, I lead her through to the back of the gallery, hoping I can come across a private area so that I can get my hands and mouth on her in a way that just wouldn’t be appropriate in front of all these people.

“What are we doing back here? We’re gonna get in trouble,” she says nervously.

I laugh at her. “You’re so cute.”

We turn to go behind a wall, far from everyone else. I back her up against it, caging her in with my hands braced on either side of her. She knows what I want and gives it to me when she takes my face in her hands and draws me in, kissing me. I take over, eager for her. I want her right here, but I know my girl, and she’s a private person. I’m shocked she’s even doing this with me right now.

“We should go,” she mumbles between kisses.

Pressing my hips against her, she grabs on to me, whispering my name.

I don’t waste a second, taking her hand and leading her out the back, avoiding the time it would take to say goodbye to everyone. I just want to have her. Alone with me. In my bed.

Pulling up the driveway, I open her door, scoop her into my arms, and carry her up the stairs to the front door and then up to my room. I lay her on the bed and stand to look down at her. The light from the moon filtering through the clouds drapes a muted silvery hue on her fair skin.

I take my hands and run them down the length of her body, needing to feel the lace under my hands and the curve of her body beneath it. When I get to her legs, I wrap my grip behind her knees and trail them over her calves and down to her ankles, slipping off her heels, letting them fall to the floor. I toss my jacket over the chair and remove my shoes and socks before I climb into bed and back over her.

“I love you so fuckin’ much.”