Read Becoming His Muse, Part Three Online
Authors: KC Martin
He’s watching me intently as I wander through the apartment. He’s watching me as if I might be a cat about to bolt. In a way I am. Because while I’m sure of my feelings for Logan, and I’m sure that I want to live in New York, and I’m even sure I would feel at home in this apartment, I’m not sure if we have what it takes to start over.
“I can’t believe you’re here, Ava. After all that’s happened. After all I put you through.”
I run my fingers across his books. There is a section of his own books. I touch the spine of one.
“You said you’d break me, and you did.”
“I was a fool, an arrogant fool. I didn’t mean to…” He rakes his fingers through his hair.
I pull out a book.
“Tell me about Jesse,” I say.
He sighs. “What do you want to know? I tried to say everything in that letter…”
“She was in this novel, wasn’t she? She was Jezebel?”
“She inspired parts of that character but it wasn’t really
her.”
“Like Anna?”
“Yes. But that’s what artists do, Ava. They take parts of their life, fragments of their feelings, and use it in their art. You know this.”
I think of my paintings, the ones of Jonathan, Jenny, and Madeleine, and the one I brought with me to show Sukira Lyn, the one of Logan’s hands. In every one I’ve poured out my feelings, experiences, and inspirations, in order to create something new that didn’t exist before.
“I don’t confuse my stories with my life, Ava. Jesse’s not Jezebel any more than you’re Anna.”
“Did you love her?”
Logan sighs. He sits on the edge of his grandfather’s leather chair biting his thumb nail.
“Yes. But that’s long over now. You never know how long love is going to last. You never know what’s going to break you apart.”
I look at the books on his shelf. Soon Stealing Stars will join them.
“And did you love me?”
His green eyes meet mine. “You’re using the past tense, Ava.”
He gets up from the arm of the chair and comes over to me.
“Yes, I loved you. Even before I knew I did. I didn’t expect that. Didn’t want it. Struggled against it. I said I’d break you but it was you who broke me. You broke my heart open.”
He lifts my chin so I’m looking into his eyes. I feel on the verge of tears, because even though the hurt is in the past it’s still inside of me, where it will always be.
“You broke my heart, Logan, when you pushed me away, when you ran away, when you acted like love didn’t matter.”
He pulls me close. “I’m so sorry for that. I never wanted to hurt you.”
I shake my head, to quiet him, and say, “But now I understand something I never knew before. Sometimes what breaks needs to be broken so it can be made whole in a new way. You taught me that.”
“But I hurt you. I never wanted that.” He’s trembling. I lay my hands on his chest.
Two buttons of his shirt are undone and I can see the etched skin of his childhood scar partly hidden by the fabric. “Being whole doesn’t mean being free of scars.”
His eyes are wet as he gathers me tightly to him. “After all we’ve been through, you want me back? You really want to stay?”
I don’t know if we’ll last. I don’t know if we’ll break everything we create. I don’t know if we can love each other enough to overcome everything life will throw at us, but I believe we’ve got a fighting chance.
“Tackling love is messy,” I say, remembering his words from the reading. “But worth the blood, guts, and pain. At least it is to me.”
He’s holding me tight but pulls back so he can search my eyes. “You’re really giving me another chance?”
I tangle my hands in his hair and pull his face to mine so I can convince him with my lips. We kiss with a fervor that puts all our doubts at bay. Even if our minds and hearts are struggling, our bodies know exactly what they want. They always have.
Before our clothes come off, before our new chapter begins, there’s one more thing I need to know. I pull away.
“What is it?”
“It seems like such a long time ago that you asked me to be your muse.”
He smiles. “You became so much more than that.”
“But you’ve never explained to me what a muse is to you. I want to know.”
He tilts his head back, thinking for several moments. “It was always a feeling for me, an energy, but if I had to put it into words I would say… A muse is an external influence that infuses someone with the will and desire to create something that has never existed before.”
I smile. “That sounds like love to me.”
His eyes widen as he takes that in. “I guess it does.” He laughs. Then he grabs me and swings me around. “You’re my muse, Ava. And you’re my
love
.”
He swings my legs up into his arms now and, squealing, I clasp his neck as he charges down the hall to the bedroom.
Chapter one of our new love story is definitely x-rated.
End of Part Three
BECOMING HIS MUSE by KC MARTIN
BECOMING HIS MUSE is a 3 part series.
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About the Author
I write about discovering the true power hidden in pleasure and living with an open heart.
Stories have the power to change hearts and lives. Love, eroticism, and sensuality provide the greatest inspiration for the heart. When we claim our pleasure, we activate our power and embolden our hearts to create lasting change in our lives and the world.
Some of the simple pleasures I enjoy:
French
macarons
, Kir Royale (a glass of champagne with 1/2 oz of Cassis, a black currant liqueur from France), hot baths by candle light, walking in the forest, working in the garden, visiting museums, giving and receiving massages, laughing with friends, cooking, painting, and most of all: writing.
KC