by Ivy Jordan
I nodded, not really caring what we ate. I could stare into his steely blues all day long.
“So, you obviously aren’t a bartender. What do you do?” he asked.
“I’m a photographer,” I said proudly.
It felt good to say it aloud. I hadn’t often, since most people I knew already were aware of my profession and didn’t ask. “That’s super cool,” he said, suddenly sounding like a rocker.
“What do you photograph?” he asked.
“Mostly people, but I’ve been picking up a lot of work from marketing firms,” I said, and then took a long sip of my beer.
“Maybe you could take the photos for our new album cover?” he asked.
My eyebrows rose in surprise. “You have an album?”
“Almost. We’ve been working on our originals, and it won’t be long ‘til we need a cover for our demo,” he boasted.
“Sure. I’d love to do that,” I said. “So, what do you play?”
“I play the guitar, and I’m the lead singer,” he said, the pride beaming through his smile.
We chatted about our work, surprisingly, and Theo asked quite a few questions about my career, and even seemed interested. It was obvious he loved talking about his band, but he was gracious enough to not consume our conversation with it. “So what are these ground rules?” I asked.
“Does that mean you’re interested?” he smiled.
“Maybe. Depends on the ground rules,” I teased.
“They are not rules really, just basic understandings of my lifestyle. I come in late, sleep during the day most times, and I don’t cook, so the Chinese delivery guy knows me by name,” he laughed.
“That shouldn’t be a problem. I keep odd hours, too, and your schedule wouldn’t bother me,” I said.
“As far as company, there is a request,” he said, his voice quieting.
Here it comes. He’s going to tell me how he parades a slew of women through the house, and he doesn’t want someone judging him. Too late. I’m judging.
I leaned back in my seat, took a deep breath, and waited for the drum roll. “I’m not a fan of bringing strangers home. I mean, if you’re dating someone, that’s different. It’s just the random hookups that would be a deal breaker,” he stammered.
My mouth fell open; I knew it did, I could feel my jaw drop. This was not what I expected, at all. “I’ve never had a random hookup in my life,” I said softly, feeling dirty just talking about it.
His eyes narrowed. “Never?” he asked playfully.
I shook my head. “I’ve had three relationships, and only two serious. Tim Haggard in high school, he was a jock, and I was a cheerleader, so it was more of an assumed relationship than anything else. Michael Rowland, he was my boyfriend my first year in college, and then Mac, the musician,” I was rattling again.
“Wow. I didn’t expect you to give me your spreadsheet, but hey, that works,” he chuckled.
I blushed. “I ramble when I get nervous,” I explained.
“It’s great. Makes getting to know you go much quicker,” he said with a grin.
“So, you think you could handle being my roommate?” he asked.
I smiled. “Yes,” I agreed, almost too eagerly to hide.
The week between my meeting with Theo and the Saturday I was moving in felt like an eternity. The shared apartment I was living in somehow felt even more cramped after seeing Theo’s place. Everything I owned was packed and loaded into my car, and I gave Sara a quick hug. I truly appreciated her helping me out with a place to stay, but I was ready to roll out of there. So ready.
Theo was sweet, greeting me outside the townhome and helping me load my boxes into the house, and up the spiral staircase. “Do you have a truck coming?” he asked, setting the last box on the floor of my new room.
“No. This is it,” I said, forcing a smile.
“No bed?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I have one on order. It should be delivered in the next day or so,” I explained.
“I’m sure we can find a place for you to sleep,” he said with a wink.
My pussy reacted with a twitch, but my mind immediately threw into defense gear. “The couch will be just fine,” I said sternly.
“I wasn’t implying anything,” he acted dramatically offended.
“Uh huh,” I laughed.
“I’ve gotta head out to the bar. Are you gonna be okay here? You can tag along,” he offered.
“I’ll be fine. I have a lot of unpacking to do, and some work to catch up on,” I assured him.
“I just know I hate staying the night in a strange place,” he said, his eyebrows lifting with concern.
“This is hardly a strange place,” I smirked.
“Well, I’ll be working late, so if you need anything, just call,” he said.
It was sweet that he was so concerned, worried that I’d be afraid to be alone. I’d been dreaming of alone time. Three months in that tiny apartment with four women—alone was all I wanted to be.
I pushed him out the door, promised him I’d be just fine, and started unpacking my boxes.
My clothes barely took up any space in the enormous closet, leaving plenty of room for me to go shopping, finally. I steered clear of the stores while living with Sara. I knew there was no room to put anything as it was, and with the three other women in the apartment all sharing clothes, I’d most likely never see it again anyhow.
By eleven o’clock, I was settled on the couch with my laptop, editing photos and working on my plans for Theo’s upcoming shoot. The wind picked up, whistling through the streets, slapping at garbage can lids, and rolling debris down the lonely sidewalks. It was starting to feel a little too lonely, and a part of me wished I had tagged along with Theo. I couldn’t now. Not after I acted so strong and capable of staying in a new place, alone. Ugh!
I zeroed in on my work, pushing out any odd noise I heard, or at least trying to. The wedding shoot I’d helped Lark with a couple weeks ago was finally edited, and I had my schedule for the week lined up. I looked at the clock, figuring it had to be close to the time when Theo would be coming in, but it was barely one o’clock.
I turned on the TV for background noise and finished the plans for Theo’s shoot. He’d told me the band name was Lion’s Den, and they played mostly hard rock when covering, and their original stuff resembled bands like Nirvana, Stone Temple Pilots, and Green Day.
I wasn’t a real rock fan, but after listening to the bands he claimed to resemble on my phone, I was excited to hear them play. The mixture of American rock and punk intrigued me. Maybe they were good enough to get their album in the hands of a big time producer. Mac, my ex, his band played heavy metal, and some classic rock, but never even thought about creating their own stuff. I loved the artsy side of Theo that wanted to create his own music. I couldn’t wait to hear it.
The door opened and my heart beat hard against my chest. Theo looked surprised to see me still up. “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” he asked.
“No,” I lied.
His eyes filled with concern as they stared into mine. Damn, why was he so sweet? I’d almost prefer if he was a dick, waltzing in with a slut on each arm to take to his room, or his rooftop terrace. This guy, the one that seemed genuinely concerned, and the one that looked at me so lovingly, I couldn’t handle him.
“I thought about sending you a text to let you know I was on my way, but I was afraid I’d wake you,” he said, moving toward the couch—my bed.
When he sat down beside me, my heart started racing fast in my chest, so hard I feared he could hear it slamming against my ribcage. “You stay up because you missed me?” he teased.
“No. I told you, I had a lot of work to do,” I giggled. Why did I giggle? He was making me nervous sitting so close to me, so late at night, and on my bed. Okay, so it was his couch, but tonight, it was my bed.
“What have you been working on?” he asked, leaning over my shoulder to my laptop.
I still had the photo
s open from some of the bands he’d mentioned, splattered all over my Word document as a collage for inspiration. “What’s all this?” he asked.
Damn, he smelled so good as he leaned closer.
His cheek was so close to my lips, I could’ve just stretched them out and planted them right on his scruffy skin. “I was working on inspiration for your photo shoot,” I explained.
His head turned, his lips now so close to mine, his eyes so deeply penetrating me that my pussy throbbed.
“That’s super cool, Willow. So, you think you have time to do it?” he asked. “I mean, I know you’re busy, and it’s not a rush at all. We’re on your schedule,” he added quickly.
“How about a week from this coming Tuesday?” I asked, figuring that would give me enough time to hear them play, meet the other band members, and get inside their heads.
His hand rested on my knee as he leaned back. His smile made me dizzy, and his eyes intoxicated me with their excitement. “Thank you, Willow. The guys will be psyched,” he said softly, pushing himself up, and onto his feet. Suddenly, I missed him in my bed.
Chapter Four
When I was introduced to Benny, my first reaction was to slap Lark. She made him out to be a tech geek, but the man with his hand extended to me had green, spiked hair and wore a long, black goatee and combat boots. She knew all along that Theo wasn’t a nerd, especially if she’d assumed him to be anything like Benny.
“Nice to meet you,” I said as politely as I could through my cloud of confusion.
“How do you like my old room?” he asked.
His smile was gentle, not at all like his rugged appearance. “It’s actually quite amazing,” I admitted.
Theo was beaming at my compliment, and his eyes danced on Benny as if he awaited one from him as well.
“I’m not sure why you gave it up,” I laughed.
A waitress with bright-red hair cut short to her neck, dark-brown eyes, and bushy eyebrows gripped Benny around the waist. “I’m why,” she smiled, extending her hand and introducing herself as Kayla, his fiancée.
The rest of the band came in, taking their turns introducing themselves. Benny was the drummer, and Theo the lead singer, who often played lead guitar as well. The next one I met was Samson, the bass player. He had long white hair, gorgeous green eyes, and an almost scrawny frame. The other guitarist, Paul, was shorter than me, was covered in tattoos, and didn’t seem interested in the shoot, or in meeting me, for that matter.
I placed a few photos from bands I liked on the table, spreading them out so they could all get a good look. “So, you’re just gonna copy those, are you?” Paul asked in a British accent I hadn’t noticed when he introduced himself.
“Not at all,” I said, smiling politely to the rude little man. “What I want is for each of you to pick your favorite album cover,” I explained.
Benny and Theo quickly grabbed theirs, Samson said he liked the Stone Temple Pilots’ one that Theo grabbed, and Paul chose one that was left.
We looked for something the covers had in common, and what we came up with was simplicity. “Okay, so you all agree less is more,” I smiled.
“Damn. We would’ve argued over what we wanted for an hour,” Benny laughed.
“I’m used to working with children,” I smirked, which even got a smile from Paul.
They all agreed they wanted the bar as their location for the shoot, and I agreed, as long as they were willing to try a couple spots I’d chosen, as well.
I hated that my week had been so busy, that I hadn’t had time to hear them play, but watching them together gave me plenty of inspiration for some great shots. Most of the ones I planned on actually using were ones they weren’t quite ready for, figuring they’d be much happier with the end result.
Inside the bar was dark and drab, and offered very little color or cool backdrops, so I took them on a walk, just about a block from the bar. There was an old abandoned building on the corner; something about it intrigued me, and I hoped it would them, as well. As the guys all started talking—well, arguing—about what they believed the building was at one time, I snapped shots. They started getting playful, shoving one another, and then Paul jumped on Benny’s back. They were having a great time, and I was getting the shots I’d envisioned.
When we got back to the bar, Paul apologized for being an ass. “I didn’t think I was going to enjoy this,” he said kindly.
I gathered up the photos I’d used as props, shoved them into my bag, and found Theo. “I’m late for my photo club. I have to run,” I said quickly, and then rushed out to my car.
I pulled into the small brick building’s parking lot. Lark was already there, standing out front, on her phone in deep conversation with whoever was on the other end. I finished organizing my equipment, which had become a messy tangle from rushing so quickly from the bar, when I noticed Theo’s car pull in beside me. I opened my door and started to get out of my car when Theo came running up to me. “Hey, so this is where your secret meetings are?” he asked with a wide smile.
I’d been fighting off feelings for him all week, and the more I tended to ignore him, the friendlier he’d become. I stared into his eyes, mine narrowing with anger that he’d followed me here. “It’s not a secret meeting, but it is private,” I snapped.
“I, uh, just….” Theo stuttered.
“I know we live together, and you’ve invited me into your world, but that was for business. This is the one thing I do that is all mine, and you can’t just push your way into it without being invited,” I scolded him as he pulled a black bag from behind his back. It was my camera. Shit!
“You left this at the bar. I just figured you’d need it,” he said softly, a hint of irritation displayed in his voice behind a large dose of hurt feelings. I was such an ass.
“I’m sorry, Theo. Thank you for being so considerate,” I apologized.
He smiled, but didn’t speak. There was an awkward silence that grew between us for the first time. “Hey, you coming in, or what?” Lark asked, stepping beside me.
“Yeah. Theo brought my camera. I forgot it at the bar,” I explained.
“Well, you may not need it anyway,” she growled.
“Why?” I asked.
“Our model canceled and we can’t get anyone to replace him this quickly,” she whined. “One of us could do it, I guess,” Lark stammered as her eyes moved to Theo.
“No. Then one of you will miss out on the lighting techniques. I can’t pose and teach,” I sulked. “I’ve been working on this for two months. Did he say why he couldn’t make it?” I asked, as if it mattered.
“Shingles. He’s highly contagious,” Lark replied, her eyes moving up and down on Theo, who was obviously growing uncomfortable. “Theo, what do you have going on right now?” Lark asked.
“I’m headed home,” his tone was still sour from my earlier mistaken assumption.
“”Oh, no. Theo can’t fill in. He’s not a model,” I said quickly, causing Theo to give me an offended glare.
“Look at him: he’s hot. He should be a model. Theo, do you want to be a model?” Lark asked, speaking quickly, and growing so excited she began to bounce.
“Not really,” Theo replied his smile weak and anxious, and his eyes pushing towards me with a look of desperation in them.
“Please, Theo. You’re our only hope. And, you’d be perfect; right, Willow?” she said, quickly turning to me.
“Yes. He actually would be perfect,” I admitted reluctantly.
I really didn’t want Theo to be my main focus for the next two hours. I was having a hard enough time keeping my mind off of his dreamy eyes and kissable lips. This was not going to help.
“What do I have to do?” Theo asked with a sigh.
His shoulders fell limp, as if he’d been defeated. Lark bounced high off the pavement, and then leaped towards Theo, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing hard enough that he looked terrified as he pulled her hands apart, and slipped from her embra
ce.
“You just have to sit on a motorcycle, several different poses,” I explained.
“I’m not really the biker type,” he said with a smirk.
“We need a still object for the shutter speed techniques,” I said sternly.
“I have my guitar in the car. Would that work?” he asked.
Lark’s eyes were wide and bright as she stared at me for a response. Theo didn’t look as if he gave two shits and would’ve preferred to just go home. “Sure. We can throw in a few lessons on photography in motion,” I agreed.
“I’m really sorry. I’ve just been on edge lately,” I whispered to Theo as we followed Lark towards the building.
“It’s okay. I get it,” he said coolly.
His tone was sharp, cutting me like a knife. “Thank you for doing this,” I sighed, hating that he’d been put on the spot.
I’d worked with models dozens of times during college, posing them how I wanted, and never once did it give me this strange flutter in my stomach. Every time I touched Theo, it felt so intimate, so sensual, that I was certain my anxiety was showing all over my face. Theo smiled as I moved his hand over the guitar strings so the light would allow focus on his hand, and not his body. I blushed as our touch created a surge of electricity through my veins. His eyes were so dark, so deep as they looked into mine that for that split second, I was certain he’d felt it, too.
The girls all loved Theo and begged him to come back again. He slid his guitar into its soft case and smiled politely. “I’ve had fun. Maybe, if I’m not busy,” he offered as a weak promise.
His movements were so smooth, so perfect, that it was hard not to watch him as he gathered his stuff and said his goodbyes to the giddy photography class. He slid his hand through his hair, letting his fingers glide through the thick strands of darkness. I watched as they swallowed them up, wishing for an instant my fingers could feel that sensation.
“We okay?” Theo asked, pulling me from my trance.
“Yes. I’m truly sorry. I know you weren’t stalking me. I’m not sure what my problem is, but it isn’t you,” I assured him.
