Preservation (9 page)

Yet here was a desperate express mail letter telling me to meet him tonight to talk. And he almost kissed me. And I encouraged it. The whole thing was so damn confusing.
What did you get yourself into, Kate?
Eyeing my cell phone on the counter, I picked it up and scrolled down to Carter’s number. It went straight to voice mail. He was probably in class.

“Hey, it’s me. I know you’re still pissed. I thought a lot about what you said. And I might be on my way to do something really stupid tonight, but I need to talk to you about it first. Maybe then you won’t think it’s so stupid. I didn’t really get the chance to explain Campbell to you the other day. There’s something good about him, Carter. I just can’t put my finger on it. And I wasn’t being honest with you or myself.” I sighed. “There’s so much I need to say to you. Can you please just call me? Or come over after class tonight? I’m home. Bye.”

A few hours passed and no word from Carter. Nine o’clock was inching closer and closer, and I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. After a glass of wine, a bath, and some Melissa Porter tunes on the iPod, I felt calmer and more collected; less angry at Ryan and more with this Alisha chick.

Screw it. I’m going.

When eight o’clock rolled around, I tossed my hair up and threw on some jeans, a blazer, and my black boots, then made my way to Queen Anne.

Easy Street Records was packed. There was a line out the door and the tiny parking lot was total chaos, filled with more people than cars, just gathered around talking and laughing. I could hear music blaring from inside. Making my way across the street, I scanned the line down the sidewalk and spotted him. My pulse accelerated when our eyes locked.

And then I saw the rest of him.

No gray tweed jacket tonight. No business slacks or tie. Instead he donned a worn-out, black leather jacket and jeans. His stubble was perfectly intact and his golden brown hair was effortlessly unruly. Delicious. And I thought the pool attire was good...

His eyes brightened when I approached him and he opened his mouth, about to say something. I waited.

“You—you came,” he stammered.
Wow. Where’s the uptight, asshole professor tonight?

“Looks like it,” I gestured to the sign above the door. “This place is one of my favorites.”

“Yeah?” His smile brightened too, and it was contagious. My face lit up and suddenly all I could think about was how normal this all felt. Like a real date, with a normal guy—not my teacher—about to watch some live music. I was overwhelmed with the desire to just have fun and enjoy myself, to forget all of the crap I knew we were here to deal with.

“Yeah, I come when I can afford it. Which isn’t often,” I looked down and stuffed my hands deeper into my coat pockets, trying to recall how much cash I had left for the week. “I didn’t know there was a show tonight. I thought we were just going to walk around the store and talk...”

“Sorry, should have mentioned that. I’ve been planning to come see these guys play for a few weeks now. It’s all on me, don’t worry. I’m just shocked you came after...”

“How about we talk about it later?” The beers started to flow in front of us and the line began to move.

Relief evident in his voice, he said, “Sounds good to me,” then stopped to pay for two drinks when we made it through the door. We worked our way to the back of the store near the door, crammed in shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the crowd. The store music died down as the band got ready to play. “Ever heard of The xx before?” he hollered over the crowd’s hum.

“No, is that who’s playing?”

He nodded, leaning down to reach my ear. “I love them, I’ll pick you up a CD of theirs before we leave tonight.”

“So this is what Mr. Campbell does in his free time.” Without thinking, I slipped my arm in his, locking us at the elbows. This is what music did to me: possessed me with euphoric bliss, shifted me into giddy gear.

“Contrary to what you might think, Ms. Parker, my nose is not always buried in a book.” He smiled down at me, pleased, and tightened our link, hollering as soon as the band came on. They began playing a song called “Crystalised,” and I was immediately sucked in to its hypnotic melody. The tempo picked up and Ryan moved behind me, slipping his arms around my waist. He sang along and tried teaching me some of the words, shouting them and spilling beer on me every few seconds, moving my hips to the rhythm. I laughed and nudged him in the ribs, continuing to sway with him as the song reached its climax.

His warm lips grazed my earlobe and I turned to meet his gaze, giving him permission to touch me. Hesitantly, he lowered his mouth to my neck, sending delicious shivers down my spine. I reached back and tugged the hair at his neckline, eliciting a soft moan from his throat, feeling it vibrate against my skin. The swarms of warm bodies around us rolled back and forth in waves, moving and breathing like a living thing, the music entrancing. Everything unspoken between us melted away and all that was left was an organic, lucid energy, slithering and weaving its way around us in an intoxicating spell.

We continued to dance until the show was over, him twirling me around, both of us occasionally knocking into people. We fed each other our favorite movie lines and joked about all of the campus cafeteria food in between songs, eventually making our rounds around the store for some album browsing at the end of the night. He followed through on his promise and bought me a signed copy of the band’s album.

The next thing I knew, we were back at my apartment and flying through the front door. Ryan was hauling me up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he fumbled with the doorknob to slam the door shut behind him.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured against my lips, letting out a mischievous chuckle when we knocked into my bedside lamp.

This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.

He pulled his shirt over his head with one hand, keeping me tight in his arm with the other, and there they were. Oh dear God. Those black tattoos I’d worked so hard to stay away from.

Okay, it’s happening.

I ran my fingers over the ink, grinning as he dipped his tongue deep into my mouth, moving to slide my shirt off. I mentally ran through all of the hows, what-ifs, and whys, and I couldn’t come up with a damn thing.

We weren’t drunk. We only had two beers. There was no strange chemical in the air that was making people do stupid things like the apocalypse had descended on the city and the term ‘crazy’ was going out of style. And there definitely wasn’t an explanation for how familiar his hands felt or why I fell into a beautiful state of euphoria when our laughter filled the room. The chemistry forced us together and there was no use fighting the catalyst. Everything else would just have to work itself out.

He laid me down on the bed and tugged off my jeans, stripping off my panties before moving to his belt. I couldn’t get enough of him. Each time he had to reposition himself above me, I pulled him by the neck to keep his lips against mine. Collecting my wrists in his hands, he slid them to the side of my head, then moved in to work his mouth over my neck and chest, slipping off my bra to fill his hands with my breasts.

He reached for his wallet and grabbed a condom, and I slipped it on him achingly slowly. “Damn it, Kate,” he growled, biting my neck hard, drawing a slow, desperate moan from my lips. He tightened his grip around my waist, dragging his arousal along the inside of my thigh, right next to where I wanted him.

“You. In me. Now.” I begged, lifting my hips to find him.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait...” He held me still and kissed my forehead, taking his fingertips and gliding them over my swollen lips and down the core of my body, stopping in between my legs. I squirmed underneath him, the feel of his hot skin unbearable. He hovered, waiting.

“Ryan...”

“Ssshhhh. Steady, baby.”

When my breathing began to even out, he sank two wet fingers inside of me and pushed in then out, craning his head back to watch me as I cried out, orgasming more intensely than ever before. The sensation washed over my body and anchored me to the bed, and all I could see was the flicker in his eyes; the stripped, bare desire looming in them.

“
Mmm
that’s what I wanted.” His ragged breath danced across my mouth, his nails digging into my ribs. He shifted and began to thrust inside of me, full and deep. “Come on baby, come on.” I cried out harder and he rocked into me, kneading his fingers into my hair, pulling me tighter and tighter against his chest. His panting synced with mine, meeting my sighs with strangled gasps and guttural groans, our bodies moving in unison against the cool sheets.

My back arched off the bed and his breath quickened, driving harder into me until I threw my head back with complete abandon. I could feel him swelling inside of me, getting close, grabbing the headboard with one hand for leverage. “
Ahhh
, Kate...fuck...” Seconds later we found our release together, sending the room into a dizzying spin. He collapsed on top of me and rolled sideways, tossing an arm over his forehead with an exhausted sigh.

Turning to face one another, we stared in silence, shadows floating in from the window’s moonlight, dancing across our faces. I traced the shapes and patterns over his cheeks and neck, following them with soft kisses.

“What is it about you?” he whispered, the saddest smile drifting from one corner of his mouth to the other.

I ran my index finger over his lips and down under his chin, settling at the hollow of his throat. “You’re not what they’re all saying you are, are you?”

“That’s your gift in your work. Perception.”

I smiled curiously, propping myself up to give him my full attention.

“Perception, instinct. It’s a part of who you are, why I feel I know you so well. That’s what comes through in your writing. It’s the only explanation for why you’re here with me right now.” Letting his hand drift over my hip, he pulled the sheet up to cover my skin. “What do you see when you look at me?”

My eyes narrowed and I pressed my lips together, weighing my thoughts. All of his bimbo admirers aside, what did I see? What did my gut tell me about this man? What did it say that allowed me to wind up here with him, under such impulsive circumstances?

“You’re a sad man,” I swallowed. “You’re arrogant and set in your ways, but that creates a fortress for you. It’s your safe haven. Behind the moat is someone who has lost something he loved, only I’m not sure what, or who. You’re afraid of something and your loyalty is hidden away in a cell, wounded by betrayal.” I rested my head on the pillow. “That’s what I see.”

“On second thought,” he exhaled, letting his head drop next to mine. “You’re psychic.”

“Tell me.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“There’s a lot to tell.”

“Start with the basics.”

“Alisha was my girlfriend. We broke up a few months ago and it’s been off and on again for a while. She called it off for good just recently, but apparently she felt like coming around today. I tried my damndest to make things work, but she wouldn’t let me forget the mistakes I made, who I was before her. Eventually I gave her what she was looking for. I returned to my old ways and burned her, very deliberately. I really fucked up, Kate.”

“Who were you? Before her?”

“A sad man who’d lost something he loved. Only I used that as an excuse to get away with selfish behavior, taking down anyone and everyone with me, any way I could.”

“At least you can admit it. I can’t do that. I just live in denial and go on as I please.”

“No, I’m just a coward. I didn’t fight, just handed over my love and then gave up.”

Pulling the sheet higher up my body, I reached over to hold his hand. “What did you lose?”

“A dream. My passion. For something that was never real to begin with.”

Squeezing his hand tighter, I could hear the pain and defeat in his voice. Before I opened my mouth to respond, the sound of the front doorknob turning jolted me upward, my stomach dropping when I heard Carter’s voice.

Whispering loudly, he called out for me. “Kate? Sorry I’m late, but I’m here.”

8. DISCIPLINE

“Who is it?” Ryan whispered when he saw the panic wash my face.

“A friend. Hurry, get dressed,” I flew out of bed and grabbed my clothes from the floor, dashing into the bathroom. When I came out, Ryan was standing there still shirtless, in all of his taut, chiseled glory, zipping up his pants, right when Carter wandered into the tiny bedroom. It was way too tiny to house the three of us.

“Carter,” my voice was still a whisper, my eyes glued to his crushed expression. Ryan glanced between the two of us and leaned down to grab his shirt.

“Sorry, I’ll leave you two...” he mumbled, reaching for his jacket.

“Don’t bother,” Carter turned for the door. “I’m such an idiot,” he dropped an envelope on the counter and stepped out.

“Carter!” I raced after him barefoot, chasing him to the elevator. “Wait a minute, will you just wait?”

“I think it’s safe to say this is a
really
bad time, Kate.” He wouldn’t look at me, just kept jamming the elevator button. “I tried calling your cell but your phone was off. Sorry I came over.”