The Picture

by Stephanie Taylor

  “Are you going to go to med school now?” I asked half heartedly, but curious where his path was leading him.

  He grinned and shrugged. “I haven't thought that far ahead. I would be afraid to get into something so...public after the band. Like you said, I'd have people coming out of the woodwork with all sorts of ailments just to be my patient. I'm not sure being a doctor is a smart move.”

  “What do you plan on doing for money?”

  He looked up then and focused those amazing blue eyes on me. His sweat-beaded brow glistened in the fading light from the small bathroom window. His hair looked damp and appealing, falling slightly across his eyes. It was shorter than it was the first time I saw him, now that I was dwelling on it. Much shorter, actually.

  “Royalties alone will sustain me quite comfortably for a couple of years, maybe more. Long enough for me to figure out what my plan is. My guess is the record company will release the few songs we just recorded as bonus material on a greatest hits album. If that's the case, that means more money, too. But I'm not worried about it right now and you shouldn't be, either.” He grinned at me, but those eyes held mine with an intensity that raised goose bumps on my skin, despite the heat of the water. His hand inched up slightly on my leg and I knew he felt the goose bumps rise. His grin turned into a smile and he sat up, sloshing the water all around us.

  My heart thrummed in my chest and my breath quickened. I watched in horror as Nicholas took the bar of soap and rubbed it between his large hands.

  I tilted my head and regarded him, a smile working at my lips. What was he doing now?

  “Might as well get down to business.” Nicholas motioned with his head for me to come closer to him.

  As if under a spell, I obeyed. His warm hands found my neck and shoulders, lathering up the exposed skin with infinite care. I knew the moment he felt my hammering pulse because he dipped his head and pressed his lips there. His hot breath stole mine and I waited. I wasn't sure what for, but when his hands started moving again, I released it slowly.

  Nicholas massaged my shoulders for a few moments and then casually slipped the strap of my swimsuit off my shoulder. Grabbing the bar of soap, he slid it over my collarbone and again rolled it between his hands. There was something I noticed while Nicholas gazed at me, and that was concentration. Before—a lifetime before—when I was with someone else, he looked at me with passive indifference. Nicholas seemed to be memorized by me, and he was certainly cherishing me with his reverent touch.

  Every other man paid no attention to my less than average figure. My skin seemed unbearably cold and in the back of my mind I wondered how that could be since the rest of me was covered in sweat droplets. The ache that only Nicholas provoked ate at me.

  His eyes closed when I exhaled. I heard the hollow thunk as he swallowed deep. But his hands kept moving over my skin, never pushing me for more, until both palms slid and cupped my face. At my gasp, he opened his darkened eyes. Desire, full and hot, filled them and a corner of his mouth tilted up in a semblance of a grin.

  His gaze lingered on my mouth, brushing his thumbs over my lips and spreading a myriad of desire all throughout my body. It overwhelmed me that I could feel this way physically. Too many times in the past it was all about whoever I was with. Never before was I provoked long enough to allow this kind of sensation. Feeling like this was heady and unfamiliar but delicious.

  Then, he moved his hands further down to encircle my waist with his long fingers. I felt so tiny when he held me like that. Those extra pounds I thought I put on must have been a figment of my imagination. Gripping my waist, he hauled me across his lap. Our eyes never left each other as he held me with one arm and moved one soapy hand across my back.

  He didn't move to kiss me and somehow that made it all the more tantalizing. Just his hands roaming over my body; both of us doing nothing but feeling. I could feel the evidence of what I did to him. My heart fluttered once again that a man like Nicholas Cassidy was attracted to me. It gave another kick when I realized that not even once had I considered the possibility that he wasn't attracted to me.

  At long last, he kissed me. He didn't kiss me as desperately as I wanted him to. It was more of a tightly controlled kiss that I sought to destroy. I pressed my body to his, wanting his control to snap. I still wasn't sure what it was about Nicholas that made me want to be so bold. He brought out a part of me I didn't know existed.

  “You're so beautiful,” he mumbled against my mouth, looking deep into my eyes. He said this without seeing me naked, without making love, and without expectations.

  For the first time in a long while, I finally believed it.

  Chapter 8

  He stood about four feet tall with green olives for eyes, an orange Sharpie for a nose and buttons curved into a smile. Nicholas let the snowman borrow an extra scarf, and when we were done, we stood back and surveyed our handiwork.

  “I think he looks like you." I stepped forward, smoothed the scarf, and giggled.

  Nicholas pretended to look insulted and pointed at the snowman's smile. “My teeth are not black, thank you very much.”

  I conceded with a nod. “And you're eyes certainly aren't red.”

  “Nope,” he shook his head, pressed his lips together, and folded his arms across his chest.

  I smiled. I felt like I had a new lease on life that morning. I'd slept well, and not only that, Nicholas had made me feel beautiful last night. Nothing progressed past a few kisses, but it was enough. It was certainly more than I was ever given in the past. His show of respect in the way he touched me gave me an unexpected warmth throughout my body.

  His eyes grew tender. “I wish Emily was here to do this with us. She would have loved to build a snowman.”

  Anger rushed through me like boiling water, white-hot and unexpected. I hadn't realized until that point how much resentment I harbored toward him. Without fully considering what I was doing, I took a step forward and slapped him hard across the cheek. He reeled back, the shock evident on his face by his raised eyebrows and parted lips.

  “What the-”

  “How dare you want her back just so you can leave her again!” The warning in his widened legs and his step forward gave me the shot of adrenaline I needed. For once, the feeling empowered me.

  “What are you talking about?” A vein throbbed in his temple as he shouted at me.

  I braced myself, refusing to give in to the intimidation. “You were hardly ever around, Nicholas! And she worshiped you! She wanted to live with you! Jessica was always too drunk or too stoned to spend any time with her. She didn't understand why the second she got sick, her mother abandoned her. And you did the same thing!”

  Nicholas chest puffed as he inhaled. “Don't you dare pretend you know anything about my relationship with her.”

  My eyes rounded and then narrowed. “She told me everything. Every time you visited, every time you called. And it was pathetic, Nicholas. It really was. You were a pathetic excuse for a father.” I took another step forward so that we were nose to nose.

  His fists balled and if I had been in a calmer state, I might have the good sense to be afraid of a man like him.

  “I loved Emily.” His gritted teeth and flashing eyes angered me enough that I shoved at his chest. He stumbled a few steps but didn’t fall.

  “If you loved her so much why didn't you stop being selfish and be with her? She was dying and she asked for you! She wanted you there! And you didn't even have the decency to come to the funeral!” I shoved again as hard as I could.

  He fell like an oak tree, solid and sturdy but also broken. He was waist deep in snow, but that didn’t stop him from firing back. “I did everything I could. I flew here every free second I had!”

  “Why didn't you make more free seconds?” I towered over him, single-minded and desperate for him to suffer as much as Emily had suffered. My legs trembled so hard my knees threatened to buckle. I couldn't take my eyes off his face for fear I would lose my nerve to get this
off my chest.

  “It was all I had!” he shouted back, waving his arms wildly from his position on the ground. “When you're in a career like mine you can't just walk away! There's contracts and obligations that are scheduled months in advance!” He hit the snow hard enough that it went flying against my leg and beyond.

  I crossed my arms and glared. “Is that what helps you sleep at night? She was sick for three years. You couldn't get out of a stupid concert long enough to spend some time with her when she was dying? Or show your respect at her funeral? Other performers reschedule these things all the time!”

  Suddenly, he stood, once again nose-to-nose with me, his mouth drawn and his teeth gritted. “I did what I could. You wouldn't have been there in the first place if it wasn't for me. Do you really think Jessica could afford an around the clock nursing staff? It was the best I could do, and I did it the second I found out about her.” He turned away from me, running his hands through his hair and pacing in circles in the snow.

  “What do you mean the second you found out about her?” But I realized what he was saying the second the words left my mouth. The air whooshed from lungs. “Jessica didn't tell you about her, did she?”

  He took a slow, deep breath and closed his eyes, obviously struggling for control. “No, she didn't.”

  “And the funeral?”

  He shook his head slowly, sadness replacing the fire that had been there only moments before. “She called me after it was over. Said she didn't want the media attention.”

  Nicholas's tearful eyes looked around for the first time since our argument and my gaze followed his. We realized we had attracted quite an audience during our argument. “We'll finish this inside,” he muttered and grabbed my arm, hauling me inside my apartment.

  “No, Jessica didn't tell me about Emily until she needed money.” Nicholas slammed the door to my apartment. He stalked to the couch and sat down, looking at me expectantly. Finally, I relented and sat down next to him. “It took months for her to get through my entourage of security. Even then I hesitated to call. We didn't exactly end on good terms, and the fact she was claiming we had a kid scared me to death.”

  My back straightened as I learned the depth of Jessica’s deception. “So seven years passed and you two never spoke? You never had a clue Emily was yours?”

  “I didn't know Emily existed until this time last year. I had six months with her, Sophie. And it wasn't nearly enough.”

  The shaky voice and his trembling lips told me all I would ever need to know, but his words melted the last part of my heart that remained closed to him. The anger toward him all this time was unfounded. Jessica was to blame again, not Nicholas. Jessica, it seemed, couldn't help hurting the people she was supposed to love.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed my lips against his. He kissed me back softly.

  “I'm sorry,” I whispered. “I had no idea.”

  “It's pretty selfish of me to want her back, huh? After how much she suffered.”

  “Now that I know the truth, I can't say I blame you. I'm sure Emily would want more time with you, too.”

  He continued to hold me, but his gaze was situated behind me. “I would do things a lot differently if I had the chance, you know.”

  I nodded. Nicholas never wanted to be away from Emily. Now that I knew this, my heart broke for him and for Emily. “I’m sorry I got so angry with you.”

  “I deserve it. Too little, too late, you know?” he bit out and released me.

  We ate lunch and wasted most of the day playing cards and talking about nothing. I think after our conversation earlier we were both mentally exhausted. But the good thing was we both managed to relax.

  It was while Nicholas dealt our cards for Poker that something shifted. We laughed at his shuffling trick gone awry, cards flying in every direction. Both of us stooped to pick them up and in a cliché moment when our hands collided and our gazes locked, I realized that somewhere along the way, without fully realizing what was happening, we’d become friends.

  As the sun brilliantly set below the apartment buildings across the street from us, I watched a complete spectrum of yellow, orange, pink, and finally purple fade to gray. The white snow provided a nice contrast, and I sat there thinking about what an artist God really was. Nicholas and I sat on the couch again with his arm around me, holding me close. I listened to his heart beating, steady and strong. We didn't feel the need to talk, only hold each other.

  It all felt so domestic and...right. I didn't like to think that I missed out on anything in my life, but I was starting to think that Nicholas was addictive. His special brand of love left me yearning for more. I needed him, I wanted him, and I was doing crazy things like thinking about a relationship with him.

  I pondered whether or not it would work between us. Nicholas was at a crossroads, and by his own admission he didn't know what he wanted out of life. I wasn't even positive that Nicholas even thought of me the way I was starting to think of him. But I couldn't believe after last night that, as crazy and improbable as it still seemed to me, that Nicholas wasn't attracted to me. Our relationship was encroaching on new territory, and Nicholas didn't seem to be the settling down type. I wasn't exactly the settling down type either. But Nicholas opened up doors of possibilities for me and made me think about things I hadn't thought of in years.

  Especially my last relationship. The need to tell him everything burned my throat.

  I looked up at him and smiled hesitantly. “Have you ever been in a serious relationship?” I asked him. He eyed me and squeezed my shoulder, pulling me close.

  “Why do you ask?” He planted a small kiss on my forehead.

  I shrugged. “Just curious.”

  “Are you asking me if I'm up for the job?” He grinned, but I could tell he was genuinely curious.

  I stalled. “Um...”

  “Relax,” he chuckled. “That's not something we have to talk about yet.”

  I liked how he said yet. My body warmed to the slow stroke of his finger along my arm. “Have you?” I pressed.

  “No,” he finally answered with a sigh. “Jessica was the closest thing and it lasted all of a few months. I just never felt the need to settle down when I didn't have to. I was too busy enjoying the side effects of my job. Of course, that doesn't mean that if the right one came along I would walk away. I'm not that stupid. What about you?”

  I grinned but sobered quickly. “I was in a relationship for three years.”

  “Were you married?”

  “No, but we lived together.”

  “Wow.”

  “It was a long time ago...about eight years now.”

  “Do you still talk to him?”

  I shook my head. “No. I saw him in the grocery store not long ago with his wife and two kids. He looked right at me and kept going.”

  Nicholas didn't say anything at first. His fingertips scratched a slow pattern down my arm and he seemed lost in thought. “That must have hurt,” he finally whispered.

  “I thought it would, but it didn't.”

  “Well, his loss is my gain,” he said.

  I sat up and he followed me, framing my face and kissing me lightly. Telling him was essential and I couldn’t put it off any longer, despite the tenderness of his kiss. “I worked third shift and came home early one night because I was sick. I found his current wife sound asleep on my side of the bed.”

  Nicholas stilled, his eyes round with disbelief. “What a jerk. I hope you hit him over the head with a chair or something.”

  I couldn't help but laugh. “No, but I threw all of his things in the front yard during a thunderstorm the next day.”

  I heard his chuckle. “Ahh, there you go!”

  “That was the fun part.” I grinned, amazed how easy it was not to think of the day so long ago that had started me on my current course.

  “What happened next?”

  His voice jarred me out of my memory, but I hesitated. He gently tucked a stran
d of my hair behind my ear and his fingertip trailed along my jaw. There was so much to be said, yet words failed me. I tried to concentrate on the music playing softly from the small radio. My ex wasn't something I talked about. Ever. Instead, I simply said, “We never spoke again.”

  He studied me. “Just like that? He didn't try to explain himself?”

  “I didn't let him.” I looked away. “There was nothing left to explain. It was my fault he did it.”

  Nicholas's large hands folded over mind. “Sophie, there's no reason on earth a man should ever do that. Now, I know I've had my fair share of women, but if I'm in a relationship, I'm exclusive. I don't screw around.”

  I nodded, comforted by his words. The earnestness in his eyes succeeded in melting my heart a little. “I believe you.” And I did.

  All day long we had the radio on, listening to music or weather reports. The roads were still closed and the weather wasn't due to warm up for two more days. Just then a slow song came on. Nicholas squeezed my hand and leaned forward, kissing me on the cheek. His lips lazily trailed to my ear and he whispered, “Dance with me.”

  My heart quickened and I closed my eyes with a smile. “I can't dance.”

  “You danced with me the night we first met.” He stood, his hands tugged at mine and I followed him.

  “Only because I felt obligated.” I balked at the thought of him holding me in his arms after such an emotional day. I didn’t trust my feelings just yet. That didn’t even count the fact I couldn’t dance.

  Nicholas smiled and tugged harder. “I'm your guest. Feel obligated now.” He yanked me into his arms with a hard tug. I stumbled and he caught me. At my frown, he gave me the cocky smile. “Maybe now we’re even for hitting me in the head with a snowball yesterday.”

  We laughed together but as our voices faded away, the music enveloped us and the rest of the world outside my tiny apartment drifted away. In that moment, it was just us. Our feet did no more than shuffle in pretense of dancing as Nicholas watched me. My heart was racing and my breath came in short little gasps. Every time I looked away from him, my eyes drifted back uncontrollably. He said nothing, but I’d seen that lost yet determined look on a man’s face before, and it could only mean one thing. My feelings weren’t in vain.