by Leddy Harper
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because, Novah.” His voice strengthened and he lifted his head, locking his eyes with mine. “It’s like I’m stuck in a maze. You’re the finish line, the end goal, but I have to be the one to find my way there. I can’t rely on your direction all the time. I have to do this myself.”
My chest swelled with pride at his words, although I was still saddened by the thought of him suffering so much. I wanted to help him, but he’d been right. He had to do this on his own. I could hold his hand, take each step with him, yet he had to be the one to find his way. All I could do was offer him my company while he found it.
“So you just went to bed and stayed in here all day?”
“No,” he whispered while shaking his head adamantly. “I pulled out the camera bag you gave me. I went to get a roll of film to load it, planning to sit on my balcony and take pictures of the boats out on the river. But instead, I found something.”
I waited and waited for him to tell me what he’d found, but he never did. A slow smile crept up on his scruffy face, and suddenly, the weight had been lifted. The worry faded and the doubt cleared. Whatever he found must’ve been what had saved him.
“I want to show you something…”
I tilted my head, waiting for him to finish his sentence. But the smile had fallen off his lips and his eyes turned away from me.
“If you give me a minute to…get ready, I can show you. But I’m not…I don’t have…”
His leg. It hadn’t even registered to me that he’d been in bed. I’d been so concerned when I’d found him, I hadn’t even thought about it.
I didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable, especially after such a horrible day for him, so I relented. Against my better judgment, I gave in to his wishes.
“I’ll be in the hallway. Let me know when you’re ready.” And then I walked out of the room, leaving the door cracked behind me.
Eighteen
I waited in the hallway with my shoulder against the wall, leaning into it as if it were my lifeline at the moment. My insides still trembled and I didn’t trust my legs to hold me up. After the scare I just went through, I didn’t think I would ever be able to stand straight again.
It couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds after I walked out of his room before the door opened. Soft light filtered into the hallway at my back. Although, I didn’t turn around until I heard harsh clacking sounds on the tile behind me.
I slowly rolled my shoulder against the wall until I faced Nolan, taking in his shadow. My gasp rang out in the quiet hall and I quickly covered my lips with my fingers. Nolan hadn’t put on his leg. Instead, he stood before me with his crutches, holding still as I took in his silhouette.
His shoulders hunched over slightly as he supported his weight on the crutches cradled beneath his armpits. But not even the dim lighting or his stooped posture could hide the defined muscles in his arms, his shoulders, his beautifully bare chest. My gaze naturally scanned him, roaming down to his trim waist. I became entranced by the way his basketball shorts hung low on his hips yet formed perfectly around his ass and upper thighs before hanging loose, empty on his left side.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, his vulnerability on full display. My breath caught in my chest as I took him all in—every strength and every weakness. And then warmth flooded me, pride running wild through my veins. I wanted to say something, but I held back out of fear he’d change his mind.
“What did you want to show me?” I asked, refraining from going to him. I don’t know why, but I worried if I moved, I’d scare him off. And I didn’t want to do that.
Without a word, he made his way to me, paused, and then moved a few more feet down the hall to another door. It was the same room I’d gone into when looking for a bathroom—his home office.
“The darkroom?” I asked when his hand stilled on the door handle. I couldn’t tell due to the lack of sufficient light, but he seemed hesitant to let me in.
Instead of answering me, he opened the door and held out his hand for me to enter. I took a few steps before hearing the sounds of his crutches move in behind me and then soften over the carpet.
The light above came on and I was rewarded with the most amazing sight. Tables lined one wall, all set up with labeled trays, organized and clean. Black film covered the only window in the room, and shelves lined the wall below with every chemical he needed to develop pictures. On the other wall, he had a small table with enlarger equipment and a cabinet, probably where he stored his clean paper to keep away from light.
“Wow, Nolan. This is amazing.”
“I’m just happy this room had a bathroom attached. The last time I had my own developing space, it was in my closet—without running water.”
I finally turned to face him, seeing him for the first time in real light. But I made sure to keep my eyes on his and not allow myself to take in his full form now that I could see it. “Did you finish this today?”
He shook his head, his gaze flitting around the room nervously. “No. I finished it yesterday. I developed film today.” He crossed the room to one of the tables. “I told you I went through the camera bag you gave me. I was planning to take pictures. But as I started to organize everything, getting together the lenses and filters, I found a canister at the bottom.”
“Yes…I had quite a bit of extra film in there.”
“The one I found was used.”
My gut twisted, unsure of what he meant. I hadn’t used that bag or camera in years—since high school. For my eighteenth birthday, my parents had bought me a digital camera, so the old one had been pushed to the back of my closet and never touched again.
“I know I shouldn’t have, but I developed it. It wasn’t mine, but there was a chance it was a piece of you, and I wanted to see it. I hoped it would give me snapshots of you from after I left.”
“What was on it?”
He grabbed a manila envelope from the top of the table and held it up, making me walk to him in order to retrieve it.
My steps were cautious as I moved to where he stood, and my hands shook as I took the envelope from him. He seemed so restrained, so quiet, and it only served to heighten my fear over what he’d uncovered.
I closed my eyes and pulled the papers out, only opening them once I could see the entire picture at once. In front of me, in my hands, was a still shot of a flower. I studied it for a moment before moving onto the next. Photo after photo were shots of nature, vibrant-colored flowers, butterflies, all outside and lit up by the natural light of the sun. I recognized them immediately, but I couldn’t stop flipping through long enough to speak, or even turn my attention to the silent man at my side.
Finally, I made it to the last one, and my breathing turned to shallow wisps of stale air. My fingers trembled as I held onto it, the paper shaking violently. A jubilant smile and eyes crinkling in genuine emotion. I almost forgot about this one until I stared at it, the memory rushing back to me at the speed of a freight train.
I’d held the camera against my chest and snapped away, not wanting Nolan to know I’d taken his picture. I had no way of knowing what the lens focused on without searching the viewfinder, but I had to take my chance. He’d been in his element, excitement filling his every feature as we wandered around his back yard. And here in front of me, in my hands, was the shot I’d captured so many years ago. The one I never got to see.
“You never developed them,” he said from my side. His voice was low, yet it boomed around me.
I shook my head, needing a moment to compose myself before speaking. “I didn’t want to remember. I thought I threw these away.”
Finally, I moved my sight from the picture of Nolan to the man next to me. I studied him for a moment before glancing back to the paper in my hand, mentally comparing the two. Then I held the picture up in front of me, my gaze moving between it and Nolan.
“Smile.” There were so many contrasts between the two, yet at the same tim
e, an overwhelming sense of familiarity. I needed to find out what it was I saw, pinpoint it.
“It’s no use, Novah.”
“Dammit, Nolan. Just smile.”
He did, but it was weak.
“No. A real smile. Think of something funny and laugh. Or pretend you’re smiling for the camera. Please, just do this for me.”
So he did. He gave me an honest smile, yet it was vastly different from the one in my hand. I desperately tried to remember what had him grinning so wildly in this picture, what had put that look on his face.
I closed my eyes.
“Does your mom like to garden?” I asked him. We were almost done taking pictures, and the thought of our time together ending left me sad. I wanted to get to know him on a more personal level.
He shrugged but didn’t look my way. “She likes the look of it, likes to be around it, but she’s not fond of doing the work herself. She has a guy who does all this for her.”
“Must be nice,” I muttered under my breath.
“Not really. I mean, sure, everything looks nice, but what pride does she actually have in it. You know?”
I shrugged, unsure of what to say. The last thing I wanted to do was insult his mother. “I’m sure she has lots to be proud of in her life… She doesn’t need to trim her own roses to be fulfilled.”
He turned to face me, squinting his eyes against the fading sun. My hands held my camera against my chest, my thumb hovering over the shutter release. He was so damn beautiful in that moment, and I wanted nothing more than to take his picture, capture it forever.
“I’ve always wanted to get married in a garden with bright flowers all around. I think it would be romantic.”
A smile lit up his face and my thumb pressed the button. “You already have your wedding planned?”
“Everything but the groom.”
My gaze locked with his, my mind coming back to the present as the prickles of nostalgia wore off. I glanced once more at the photo, scrutinizing his eyes, and then I glanced back up to the real version of him.
“I love you, Nolan.”
There…right there, I saw it. The way his pupils dilated and then shrank to tiny pinholes. The twinkle in the deep green, the way they lit up and sparkled.
He started to shake his head, but I stopped him with my lips. My arms went around his neck, holding him closer to me, his heat consuming me. He’d always deny it, but he’d never convince me. I knew without a shred of doubt he was still inside, he was still there just waiting to come out. Just waiting for me to love him.
“How?” he asked once he broke away from the kiss. “How can you possibly look at that picture and still love me?”
“What do you see when you look at this?” I held the photo up in front of him.
His brow furrowed as he scrutinized it. “I see a kid, someone who has no idea what real pain is. Naïve and blissfully happy.” He turned his attention back to me. “I see a stranger.”
“And you hate him…”
“I envy him.”
“Well, I bet if he were here, he’d be jealous of you.”
Nolan’s eyebrows pinched together, causing the space between them to form deep valleys of uncertainty.
With complete confidence, I said, “This boy clearly wanted to be loved. He was admired, he was desired by many girls, and envied by just as many guys. To the world, he had everything. But I’d bet my life savings he didn’t have the one thing he truly wanted. He didn’t feel loved. And if he were here, he’d be jealous of you, because you have my love. All of it. You own it.”
“If he were here, you’d love him.”
I placed my hand over the center of his chest. “He is here…right here. And I do love him, but only because he’s part of you. He’s where you came from. But he gave up. He stopped fighting when things became tough. You…you’re the one who fought. You’re the one who survived. You’re the one I love. The bad, the good, the ugly. The beautiful. Every fucking bit.”
He grabbed my hips and pulled me against him before taking my mouth with his. His tongue pushed my lips apart and then mingled with mine. It was fierce, passionate, and desperate.
Consuming.
Inebriating.
His excitement pressed against my lower stomach, and when I tilted my hips into his, a groan rumbled through his chest, vibrating his lips on mine.
I pulled away enough to trail kisses from his chin to his neck, my hands eagerly exploring his chest. My lips followed the path of my fingers until I had to kneel to get lower.
Nolan grabbed my upper arms. “Don’t.” His voice was so strong, so powerful, it made me stop and lift my head enough to see his eyes.
But he didn’t say anything else. He only shook his head while gently pulling on my arm to get me to stand. I knew his fear, though. It was evident in his intense gaze.
I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to his thigh through the material of his shorts, and then I wrapped my arm around the remaining part of his leg. The sound of him sucking in his breath filled the quiet space around us. However, nothing struck me as hard as the way his body shivered in front of me. The way it convulsed as if he had electricity coursing through his veins.
My fingers hooked beneath the elastic band of his shorts, and then I slowly pulled, revealing him one inch of skin at a time while I took it all in.
“Novah…” he whispered in a tight, strained voice. “Please stop. Please. I can’t do this.”
I locked eyes with him and then yanked the rest of the light material down until it settled on the floor. Not once did I remove my attention from his face, catching every spark of fear in his gaze, every line of worry on his brow.
I said I wouldn’t push him.
I told him I’d be patient.
But I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t fight my own passion. The desire to show him my love became too much to bear, and I had to trust this wouldn’t break him. I had to believe he’d give in and let me love him. Without it, I’d likely be the one suffering in the end. The one with emotions and yearning locked away so tightly, it’d never be discovered again.
I took his hardened shaft in my hand and licked the bulbous tip. He hissed and leaned back even more, now practically sitting on the edge of the table.
“This doesn’t freak me out, Nolan.” I rested my palm on his left thigh. His muscles clenched beneath my touch. “I want you to know it doesn’t have to scare you, either.”
Stroking his long, hard erection with one hand, I explored his leg with the other, my lips millimeters away from coming in contact with his overheated skin. My heavy breaths billowed out, covered his flesh, and then washed over my face in waves of heat—mine mixed with his.
I took in the long, rippled scar running from one side to the other, similar to a smile line. The skin around it was smooth, and when I traced it with my fingertip, Nolan began to pull away, clearly uncomfortable with the attention I’d given it.
Needing to keep him with me, and not wanting him to push me away, I gently pressed a barely-there kiss to the scar tissue. My tongue peeked out through my parted lips and lightly grazed his soft flesh. I moved upward along his inner thigh toward the part of him still throbbing in my other hand.
His hips bucked slightly, his struggle obvious in the way his hands gripped the edge of the table behind him, his knuckles turning bright white. Every muscle in his entire body seemed to have gone rigid, strained. His breaths were short and shallow, yet harsh and frantic, filling the quiet air with desperation. I chanced a peek up at him and noticed his eyes tightly shut, his lips sealed in a hard line, and the muscles in his jaw ticking in quick succession.
Observing his reaction to me, the reason behind his restraint was unclear. I couldn’t tell if it was sexual, caused by my touch, or if it was his pained response to being so bare in front of me—my attention to his deepest insecurity. I hoped for the first, but in the event it was the latter, I moved all my focus to his erection.
I started slow—unhurr
iedly stroking his shaft while exploring it and the area around it with my tongue and lips. My free hand cupped his balls, which earned me a steady hiss through his clenched teeth. Even after I’d taken him into my mouth, I kept the pace dauntingly slow, savoring it.
I’d given blowjobs before…but never like this. Never had I been so consumed by the act, so in-tune to everything. Every gasp, every strained muscle, every tiny movement. This was not done for the purpose of foreplay or to lengthen a sexual experience. This was simply meant to please Nolan. To show him what he refused to believe.
His breathing enticed me. The way his grip tightened in my hair, the frantic movements of his hips, the tremors running through his leg as he steadied himself against the table…all of it motivated me, pushed me to go further, please him more.
Show him everything.
No longer did I question his restraint. I had him, all of him, in that moment. No insecurities. No doubt or fear. Nothing existed between us except our strong and natural connection. My love. His gratitude.
And for the first time, I believed wholeheartedly we were on the road to somewhere. We were headed in the right direction. His resolve began to slip away, break away piece by piece. The beautiful boy who’d been buried beneath years of self-hatred, pain, and anger slowly began to emerge.
I’d promised him I wouldn’t push.
But I couldn’t sit idly by any longer.
Lying in bed with Nolan, curled into his side, I allowed the easy thrum of his heartbeat to lull me into a peaceful state. He’d been unusually quiet since we came back to his room. I wanted to talk, to get him to open up, but fear muzzled me.
Nolan broke the silence when he kissed my forehead and whispered, “I love you.” The sentiment warmed me and put a genuine smile on my lips.
“Can I ask you something?” I said, and the only response I got from him was a sleepy hum. “What was it like…you know, after losing your leg?”
