Resolution: Exposure (A Resolution Pact Short Story)

by Tracy Lorraine

  Copyright © 2019 by Tracy Lorraine

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover and Formatting by Dandelion Cover Designs

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Book Hangover Lounge

  The Resolution Pact

  Read Falling For Daniel for FREE!

  About the Author

  Also by Tracy Lorraine

  Falling For Ryan

  Chapter 1

  Spending New Year's Eve working in my apartment isn’t everyone’s idea of a perfect celebration, but it pretty much sums up my life right now.

  As everyone makes preparations for who they’re going to kiss when the clock strikes midnight, I’m sitting here working on my Valentine’s Day collection. So, whether all those people are kissing their significant other, or someone new and exciting, I keep telling myself they could potentially give them one of my handcrafted cards to express their love in just a few weeks’ time.

  Pulling my eyes away from the heart I’m currently cutting, I sigh. How did my life turn to this?

  Looking out the window, I stare directly into the apartment opposite. It’s full of people dressed to the nines, smiling and laughing as they enjoy their evening.

  I continue watching the merriment across the street until my phone vibrates on my desk. Dragging my eyes away, I look down to see a message from Stacy, reminding us about our pact.

  Remember, ladies. Do it. Whatever it is you want to do. Wherever you have wanted to go. Whatever you want to try, to taste, to feel, to live...do it. This is our year.

  I may have told a little white lie about my plans for tonight—two, in fact. My friends think I’m celebrating with my family, and my family thinks I’m out with the girls. I know I probably should have put more effort into tonight but I don’t feel like I’ve got all that much worth celebrating. I was hoping to be ending this year in a better position than when I started it, not worse. This time last year, I was in a relationship that I stupidly thought might go the distance, with the slightest hope that I might soon be making my own wedding invites and place settings instead of everyone else’s.

  All my friends have much better plans for tonight, and I’m happy for them. Or I was until I start reading the messages that follow Stacy’s announcement. It seems their promising plans didn’t live up to the hype because they’re all miserable at their flashy parties.

  When the conversation once again turns to New Year's resolutions I can’t help but groan. I have no intention of doing something crazy just because a new year is almost upon us. But the more the girls talk about it, the more I know I’m not going to get away with it.

  When a demand comes through for us to decide our resolution and tell everyone one thing we’re going to do next year, I panic. I have no desire to jump out of a plane or get some crazy ass tattoo to show off my wild side. I’m quite content hiding out in my tiny apartment with Pixie, my fluffy feline companion.

  My phone buzzes again, but this time when I look I see a separate message from Annalise.

  Have you decided yet?

  I reply back immediately. Do I really have to do this?

  YES! Now decide or I’ll pick something for you.

  Knowing what my best friend’s like, I quickly power up my laptop to try to find something that I’m at least half interested in before she signs me up to some speed dating event or something equally humiliating.

  I type New Year's resolutions ideas into Google, and I find a whole list of things I have no intention of doing. Start a new sport, eat fewer calories, write a journal. Reading more books is a promising idea but I doubt the girls will allow it, seeing as I already read about three hundred each year.

  I continue scrolling until I find a list of new hobbies I could try. Immediately crossing off any that involve exercise, I consider some of the other options until one stands out.

  Learn photography.

  It’s always something I’ve wanted to be better at. It’ll help my business, and I love the idea of getting in a dark room and exposing my own images. The idea of seeing a photo I’ve captured appear in front of my eyes has a little excitement tickling at my belly. My website could use an update, so this could be perfect.

  I open up a new tab and start searching for classes. Amazingly, I find one that starts next week only a few blocks away. It still has spaces available.

  I sign up before I change my mind and send my first message of the night to our chat group.

  All sorted. I start a photography class next week.

  I’ve spent all day trying to come up with a reason not to do this, to the point that I’m now risking being late for the first class. Annalise was having none of my bullshit excuses, though. She even threatened to drag me here herself.

  As I walk down the hallway towards the room I was pointed towards, I feel physically sick. I’ve always hated meeting new people. It’s one of the reasons I run my business online.

  My hands tremble as I reach to grab the handle. Letting out a long breath, I try to prepare myself for what I might find on the other side of this door.

  I go to take a step into the room, but the feeling I’m being watched has me peeking up through my hair. The second I lift my eyes, they connect with a man’s piercing blue ones.

  “Ah, you must be our last student,” someone at the other end of the room announces, pulling more attention to me. “Take a seat and we can get started.”

  Ripping my eyes away from the guy who’s still staring at me, I find an older woman at the front of the room waiting to get the class started.

  I mutter an apology for being late, but I doubt anyone can hear it, it’s so quiet. I continue walking into the room, and it takes a few seconds for me to register that the only available seat is next to the guy with the blue eyes.

  I’m aware of him following my every movement, although I don’t risk looking up to confirm I’m right.

  I awkwardly lower myself to the seat next to him and shrug off my coat, pulling my notebook and pen from my purse in an attempt to look prepared for what’s to come.

  When the teacher turns her back to us, I feel the heat emanating from him against my side.

  “Nice shirt,” the blue-eyed guy whispers.

  In my panic, I completely forget what I’m wearing, and like an idiot I have to look down at myself. Hesitantly, I lift my eyes to him and suck in a breath as I take in what he’s wearing for the first time, it’s a bigger, manlier version of my checkered shirt he just complimented. But unlike mine, it’s pulled tightly across his wide shoulders and folded up to reveal muscular, tattooed forearms.

  I let out a nervous laugh as my eyes continue to rise. When I find his face, I can’t help but suck in a sharp breath because what I thought were piercing blue eyes from the doorway, I now realize are mesmerizing and bluer than any eyes I’ve ever seen before. One side of his mouth twitches up in a smile, a dimple appears in his cheek and he reveals the most incredible white, straight teeth.

  Holy shit, I’m staring.

  “I’m Gavin,” he says, in a deep, husky voice that has tingles kick-starting in places they shouldn’t. Thankfully, movement by the desk breaks my stare, although those two words are on repeat in my head. Slipping my hand into his for a quic
k, innocent handshake, I don’t expect to feel the electricity in his fingertips. I tug my hand back from his grasp, staring down at it for a brief moment before turning to the front of the room.

  To my relief, the woman introduces herself as Sharon and begins the class.

  She talks through what we can expect over the coming twelve weeks before launching into her first lesson, going over the basic functions of a camera and the first techniques we’re going to try to master. Everyone around me scribbles notes, hanging on her every word. I, however, can’t get my mind off the guy whose scent is filling my nose.

  “You’ll notice I’ve set the desks up in pairs. So, if you’d each please turn to the person sitting beside you and introduce yourselves, they’re going to be your partner in crime for the foreseeable future.”

  My stomach drops. How am I going to be able to function around him? I’m a fumbling idiot at the best of times, let alone with a guy who has eyes as blue as sapphires and an adorable dimple when he smiles.

  Fuck my life. This was such a bad idea.

  Sharon continues talking as she places a camera down in front of each pair. I think she’s telling us what we’re meant to do with it, but the only thing I can hear is the white noise of panic filling my ears.

  I’ve spent my life in the shadows, as far away from guys like the one next to me for a very good reason. They break your heart. I watched it happen time and time again with my mom when I was a teenager, and more recently with some of my friends. Men like him are nothing but trouble. And trouble is something I do not want in my nice, calm life.

  “So, partner. Do you have a name, because Mystery Girl In The Checkered Shirt is a little long?” His voice is so deep it rumbles through my body, causing long forgotten tingles to make themselves known once again.

  “Harper. It’s Harper,” I squeak, sounding like an eight-year-old girl.

  “Harper,” he repeats, his eyes dropping to take me in. “It suits you.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “So, where do you want to start?”

  “Uh…start?” I question.

  “Yeah. We were just given our first task. You were listening, right?”

  “Oh yeah, totally.” His eyebrow rises, and that dimple makes a reappearance. “Okay, fine. No, I zoned out.”

  “It’s the first ten minutes of the first class,” he says with a laugh. “What’s got you distracted already?”

  My face flushes red and I look away from him as the others begin to file out of the room with cameras in their hands.

  Gavin quickly repeats what we’re meant to be doing before he gestures for me to lead the way out of the room, in search of some shots that show our understanding of the term field of vision. I’m pretty sure if I were listening, I’d know exactly what that means.

  It turns out he’s a pretty good teacher, and I get the impression this isn’t his first time using a camera. That does lead me to question why he’d be in a beginner’s class, but I keep my mouth shut for fear of saying something stupid.

  We find a row of lockers and stop to take some shots before heading out into the bitterly cold New York evening to find some fencing around a local park.

  We’re the last ones back. I fear I’m going to have a reputation for always being the late one before the first class is even out.

  We’re only back a few minutes before we’re all directed into the dark room and Sharon begins explaining the process of developing the shots we’ve all just taken.

  The second the lights go out, it’s like everything I’m feeling is heightened. The heat coming from Gavin beside me is suddenly scorching, and the shock that goes through me when our hands collide as we gather our equipment is enough to almost have me running from the room.

  Everyone else seems to move around flawlessly like they’ve all done this a million times before, whereas I’m a nervous wreck. It’s like I’m back in high school again and I’m in the same class as my first crush. Only, in reality, he never even once looked my way. But I feel Gavin’s stare every few seconds as we go through each step to find out what we’ve managed to capture.

  Stepping out into the cold night after the class comes to an end, I feel like I can breathe for the first time since my eyes landed on Gavin over two hours ago. That is, until I sense him right behind me.

  “How are you getting home?”

  “Just…uh…walking. I’m only a few blocks away,” I stutter, pointing in the general direction of my apartment.

  “May I?” My brows draw together in confusion.

  “May you what?”

  A smile splits his face and it once again hits me in the stomach. He really is beautiful. “May I walk you home?”

  “Oh…you don’t have to do that. It’s not…” My words trail off as his fingers tickle over my cheek and tuck a loose strand of hair that’s blowing in the wind behind my ear.

  “Harper,” he says, clearly able to see the panic and confusion written all over my face. “I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

  “Oh…okay.” I take a step forward and he follows.

  He stays silent for the longest time. I’m starting to think all he really does want is to make sure I get home safely when he starts talking.

  “So, what brings you to a photography class, then, Harper?” The way my name sounds falling from his lips has my insides clenching.

  “The girls decided we should all do something different for our New Year’s resolution,” I ramble. “What about you?”

  “Same, really.”

  “The girls suggested a New Year’s resolution?” I ask with a laugh.

  “My sister,” he admits with a wince. “She thought I should get out of the house.”

  A million questions pop into my head, but I hold them in. We haven’t known each other long enough for me to start prying into his life. “I’m an illustrator,” he adds when I don’t respond. “I work from home.”

  “Ah, so you’re a creative recluse like I am, then? I run my own company from home, so I know all about that.”

  That seems to break the awkwardness because the short walk to my apartment is filled with talk about our work. I soon realize how nice it is to talk to someone who has an understanding of what I do and how much I love it. All my friends and family have pretty standard nine-to-five jobs that they have to leave the house for, so they don’t really get my addiction to my work.

  “This is me,” I say, coming to a stop by the entrance to my building.

  “Oh.” I swear I hear a little disappointment in his tone, but I don’t allow myself to dwell on it. I might not be ready for our time to be over, but I don’t want to kid myself that he feels the same.

  “You could…uh…come up. For coffee,” I add quickly when his eyebrows rise. “Just for coffee.”

  His soft chuckle at my panic has my temperature spiking despite the freezing air surrounding us.

  Stepping forward, he once again rescues the lock of hair that’s blowing around my face and tucks it behind my ear. Tingles erupt when his cold fingertips run around the shell of my ear.

  He’s closer than should be appropriate for two people who’ve basically just met, but as he stares down into my eyes, his own darkening by the second, I can’t bring myself to care.

  My stomach knots as he opens his mouth to respond. An image of my messy apartment fills my mind. Why did I even consider inviting him in?

  “I really wish I could. Maybe next time?”

  “Sure…next time.” I hate that my voice quivers with disappointment. Shouldn’t I be happy the random man I met only a few hours ago doesn’t want to come upstairs with me?

  “When are you free to complete our homework?” He steps back slightly and I immediately miss his closeness, although I try to convince myself it’s more to do with his body heat than anything else.

  “Oh, I don’t think we have to do that together,” I say. Then, I realize I’ve totally missed his point, if his expression is anything to go by.

/>   “No, of course we don’t. I just…” He trails off, awkwardly rocking back on his heels.

  “How about Friday night?”

  His brows draw together like I’ve asked an impossible question. “Friday nights should be for boyfriends and dates, not homework.”

  “Well, I don’t have either, so homework it is.” I can’t help feeling like his previous statement was his way of asking if I’m single.

  “I’d be more than happy to fill your Friday night. Say, seven o’clock?”

  “Sounds perfect.” I linger on the sidewalk, unsure of what to do next.

  “It does,” he eventually says before leaning forward and dropping a kiss to my cheek.

  The second he pulls away I march towards my front door, not wanting him to see the blush coloring my cheeks or the desire I’m sure is filling my eyes.

  Slamming the front door behind me, Pixie jumps up from the sofa like we’re being burgled. She soon settles down when she finds me resting back against the door, trying to catch my breath.

  Tonight was definitely unexpected, but I’m also starting to think this whole New Year’s resolution thing could actually turn out to be a genius idea on Stacy’s part.

  “I’m coming,” I say into the buzzer as I wrap my scarf around my neck and pull my coat on. “Wish me luck, Pix,” I say towards my cat, who’s perched on the windowsill staring out at the freezing cold night beyond. She doesn’t even turn to look in my direction.

  I hope that’s not a sign as to how this night is going to go.

  Grabbing my purse and camera, I make my way down to where Gavin’s waiting for me. My heart is in my throat as I make quick work of the stairs. I’ve tried not to think about what the next few hours might hold—I’ve failed. Multiple times a day, I’ve found myself daydreaming out the window, thinking about his blue eyes and the way his shirt hugged his muscular frame. I haven’t lusted after a man in a very long time, and it feels quite good to have something to think about other than other people’s declarations of love and wedding stationery that I’ve spent all week working on.