The Fading Trilogy: Fading, Freeing, Falling: Includes 2 BONUS short stories

by E. K. Blair

  She smiles and says, “I won’t.”

  “How is Bailey doing?” I ask about her one-year-old daughter.

  “Crazy,” she laughs. “She’s a tiny diva. I look at her, and I know I’m in for trouble in about fourteen years.”

  “Well, if she’s anything like you were . . .”

  “God, don’t even say it!” she whines.

  We both laugh, knowing all too well how much of a partier she used to be when we were in high school.

  Recalling a memory, I mention, “I will never forget seeing you hanging over the docks and puking into the water.”

  “Ugh! That was awful. I was trying to be cool in front of that guy, Shawn, so that he would notice me.”

  “Oh, he noticed you,” I joke, laughing harder. We used to get together in Astoria, where she’s from. We’d meet up with friends late at night and drink on the docks. Every now and then we’d get busted, but it never stopped us from going back.

  “You ready?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I’m starved,” I respond as I stand up and grab my board. We head up the stairs, off the beach, and to my jeep. Loading everything up, we make the drive out of Ecola Park and back home.

  The smell of coffee and bacon fills the house as we walk through the front door. We toss our gear into the laundry room then head into the kitchen where my mom is scrambling eggs.

  “How was the beach?” she asks as I pour a mug of coffee.

  “Good,” Tori answers.

  “Well, it’s a good thing you guys went when you did. It’s supposed to rain this afternoon.”

  “You know rain doesn’t stop us,” I say as I walk by and kiss her cheek.

  She plates our food, and we all sit to eat.

  “Tori has to bail tomorrow,” I tell my mom.

  “Oh, no. Everything okay with the kids?” she asks.

  “Yeah, the kids are good. Trevor has to go into the office, that’s all.”

  “When are you heading back?” she asks me before taking a sip of her coffee.

  “I’ll probably stay here for a couple of days. I’m in no rush to get back. Michael should have everything under control.”

  Finishing breakfast, I help my mom clean the kitchen before heading to my room to get cleaned up.

  After my shower, I lie down on my bed and call Gavin.

  “Hey, man. How’s the beach?” he says when he answers.

  “Good. Anything going on Tuesday?” Too many serious conversations yesterday and my head needs an escape when I get back home.

  “Whatever you want to go on,” he responds.

  Gav and I have been friends for nearly ten years now. Through the years, I feel like our friendship, although it remains constant, has grown a bit superficial. He still parties the way we used to in college. We go out a lot, and he’s into the chicks as much as I am. He’s loud and obnoxious, where I’m more laidback, but he’s my one friend that isn’t tied down.

  “Monkey Pub?” I suggest.

  “Yeah, that works.”

  “I’ll text you later then.”

  “All right, man. I’ll catch you when you get back.”

  I spent the rest of my time with my mom, hanging out and taking it easy. It’s always good to see her and catch up, although we talk on the phone often. She’s always sad to see me leave. I know she was hoping I would move back to Oregon after I graduated college, but Seattle is my home. I love it.

  When I get back in town, I head to Monkey Pub to meet Gavin. The lot is packed as I pull in to park. Walking in, the crowd is thick, and there are a few drunken college girls on stage, murdering a song in karaoke.

  “Ryan,” I hear Gavin holler, and when I spot him by the bar, I make my way over.

  “Mel, what are you doing here?” I ask, but before she can answer, I catch her husband, Zane. “Shit, man. I haven’t seen you in forever,” I say to him as I clap his shoulder.

  “Busy with the band. Things are finally starting to take off.”

  “God, don’t get him started,” Mel complains before she downs a shot.

  “Fill me in,” I encourage, and he proceeds to tell me that his band has been offered a contract for a recording deal.

  “No shit? That’s great,” I tell him.

  “Thanks. We’re pretty stoked.”

  When I see the irritation in Mel’s eyes, I question, “What’s got you so pissy?”

  “Zane forgot to mention that he would have to move to L.A.”

  “You’d think she’d be happy, but I can’t get my woman on board to go to California,” he tells me as he wraps his arm around her.

  “I love Seattle. All my family is here,” she responds.

  “You guys will work it out. For better or worse, or some shit like that, right?” I laugh.

  “Right,” she sighs, not happy about the situation.

  Turning around, I shout down the bar for a beer, and when the bartender gives me a nod, I take a seat next to Gavin.

  “What did you do today?” I ask as he drinks his beer.

  “Just work. Shit never ends.”

  “Dude, you love work. Don’t give me that crap,” I joke.

  He laughs and says, “Not gonna lie, it’s a good gig. I’m gonna go check out a new band the label is showing interest in on Thursday. Wanna tag along?”

  “Yeah,” I say as the bartender hands me my beer. Gavin has been working for Sub Pop Records for the past few years, so we hit up a lot of concerts.

  He turns to a couple of girls that walk up and stand next to him as they wait to order drinks. Taking a quick look back at me, he shoots me a wink, and I laugh at him. When he turns back to them, he says, in tacky Gavin form, “Hey, ladies.”

  I sit back and drink my beer. Mel and Zane are off talking to friends, but when Gavin nudges me and says, “I got one for you,” I turn around to see a tall, curvy redhead smiling at me.

  Giving a slight nod, I say, “You go to college here?” Small talk—it’s almost annoying to me because if I do too much of it, it makes me feel like a dick for possibly giving girls the impression that I’m interested in more than just a fleeting hook-up.

  “Uh huh. Education major,” she tells me with a thick Southern accent, and I can’t control the chuckle that slips out. “What about you?”

  Is she kidding? “College was a few years back for me.”

  As she nods her head, she says, “Oh.” Naïve. “So, what do you do . . .?” she trails off, not knowing my name.

  “Ryan.”

  “Right.”

  God, this is painful. “I run a bar off campus,” I tell her.

  “Cool.”

  Looking over at Gavin, he’s staring at the redhead and shaking his head. Yeah, I got the ditz outta the two, that’s for sure.

  “You need a drink?” I offer, and when she smiles and nods, I turn to get the bartender’s attention. “What do you like?”

  “Vodka.”

  “Shots?” I ask.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  I shoot her a smile, and I know I’m in when she smiles back, biting her lower lip. I order four shots, and we waste little time knocking them back. We sit there as time passes, and she talks my ear off about school and moving up here from Oklahoma. I half pay attention but make sure I nod to give her the impression that I’m keeping up.

  Her hand grips my knee when she leans in and begins talking closely into my ear as the bar grows louder the later it gets. Brushing her hair behind her shoulder, I let my fingers graze along her neck, and she shifts to look at me, no longer talking, just staring. When her hand tightens on my knee, I lean in and kiss her, tasting the alcohol and willingness as she moves her lips with mine.

  She’s not hesitant, but eager, so when I tug her hair, she moans into my mouth. Dragging her lips to my ear, she whispers, “Wanna get outta here?”

  This one seems like she could be clingy. Not wanting to go to my place, and being tired after the drive back from Oregon, I lay it out there for her. “Car?”

  She pulls
back, looking at me with question in her eyes, and I explain, “I just got back in from being out of town. I’m tired.”

  When she doesn’t respond, I ask, “That a problem?”

  It takes a second, but eventually she shakes her head, and when I stand up, I see Gavin.

  “You heading out?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna walk . . . umm . . .”

  I look at the girl when she says, “Mary.”

  “Huh?” I question.

  “My name. It’s Mary.”

  I’m an ass. I turn back to Gavin and quickly tell him, “I’m gonna walk Mary out.”

  I take her hand and lead her out into the rainy night to my jeep. Not wanting to get my ass arrested, I go for the back seat, and she hops in behind me. She’s on me quick, kissing me and running her hands up my shirt. I return the gesture and grab her large tits when she begins undoing my pants. Tugging them down, she leans over and takes me in her mouth.

  “Shit,” I exhale as I fist her hair and take control over her. Selfish? Yeah, I’m selfish. Escaping for my moment, not thinking. Enjoying. All thoughts vanishing from my mind. This is my vice. It used to be drugs. I rolled on X when I was in high school, but this, well this is just my version of a healthier release.

  Zipping up my pants, she runs her fingers through my hair. This is the part I hate. I turn cold to make it clear that this wasn’t anything more than what it just was.

  “Thanks.”

  “Thanks?”

  Opening the door, I step out and hold my hand out for her. “Like I said, I’m tired.”

  She hops down and hesitantly says, “You wanna call me sometime?”

  “I don’t do the whole girlfriend thing.”

  She nods her head, and my guilt appears as she turns to walk back into the bar without saying anything else. I take a moment and enjoy the rain that’s falling, but when I hear my name being called, I turn around to see a familiar blonde walking my way from across the lot.

  “Gina,” she says, answering my unspoken question, and I suddenly remember the girl I had in my office a few days ago. “What are you doing out here in the rain?” she asks as she leans up against my car.

  “Nothing. About to head home.”

  “Alone?”

  “Alone.”

  She takes me by surprise when she shoves her hand in my back pocket and finds my cell, pulling it out.

  “What’re you doing?” I ask when she starts punching something into my phone.

  “Storing my number,” she explains. She hands it to me when she’s done and says, “For when you don’t want to be alone,” before heading inside.

  “Dude! You said help with some furniture, not a whole house full,” I complain to Max as we stand inside Traci’s home.

  “You have something else going on today?”

  “If I said yes, would you let me off?”

  He looks over at me with a straight face and admonishes, “You want me kicking your ass?”

  Shaking my head, I laugh and say, “That’s what I figured.”

  Walking over to her large sectional couch, he starts pulling off the cushions. “Come on.”

  We begin to load the furniture into the U-Haul when Max asks, “What are you doing later tonight?”

  “No plans. I need to run up to the bar to see if Michael was able to get any bands booked,” I say as I jump down from the truck to go inside for another load.

  “You wanna stop by later? We’re having a few friends over.”

  “We’re?” I question.

  Max just looks over at me and laughs. Although he and Traci have been together for a while, I know I’ll be seeing much less of him now that they’re living together. But hanging out with a house full of domesticated bliss isn’t my idea of fun, so I tell him, “I’m probably gonna call it an early night.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  We spend the next two hours loading everything up in the truck before driving it over to Max’s house. Once everything is moved, I head into the office to get some work done and to talk with Michael. He was able to book a few bands and hire Chase, Max’s buddy, to work the door. Since it looks like he has everything under control, I call it a night and go home.

  Hopping out of the shower, I throw on a pair of pajama bottoms before going downstairs to watch some TV. I settle myself on the couch and flip on an old movie, one that I’ve seen countless times, but I watch it anyway.

  An email notification lights up my phone, and I pick it up to see that it’s work stuff that Michael sent. Not wanting to hack into it tonight, I start mindlessly going through my phone, opening apps, and wasting time. I begin scrolling through my contacts and stop when I see Gina’s info scan by. I tap on her name and stare at her number.

  “For when you don’t want to be alone.”

  She’s one chick that didn’t make me feel bad after we hooked up. She got it. She accepted it for what it was, and clearly she’s on the same page as me.

  Before I know it, the phone is ringing, and when she answers, I say, “Hey. It’s Ryan.”

  “Hi. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. You busy?” I ask, keeping the chitchat to a minimum.

  “Not anymore.”

  “Gotta pen?”

  I give her my address, and when there’s a knock on my door about thirty minutes later, I drag myself off the couch to see her standing on my doorstep.

  Long blonde hair, tall, and wearing clothes that makes her look like she’s trying a bit too hard for something that’s a guaranteed giveaway.

  Her heels click against my hardwood floors when she walks in, smile-clad face as she gives me the lookover. At least I won’t feel guilty with her. I tell myself this a couple times before I take her hand and kiss her. She doesn’t stop me or even slow me down as we stumble across the room.

  It isn’t long before she’s bent over my couch, ditching her self-respect just to moan my name in what is nothing more than another throw of diversion. But I’m no better. I’m far from respectable. So the both of us use each other for the mere minutes that we’re able to hold on before lust takes over, and we lose control of ourselves.

  As I yank up my pants, she rights herself and turns to face me, sated.

  “I’m glad you called.”

  I nod my head and start walking over to my kitchen to grab a drink. “You thirsty?” I offer.

  “Yeah. Umm, where’s your bathroom?” she asks, and I point down the hall.

  “It’s on the right.”

  “Thanks.”

  When she returns, she situates herself close to me on the couch, getting more comfortable than she should, but I don’t say anything.

  As she picks up her glass of water, she says, “So you have the night off?” before taking a sip.

  “I don’t keep a schedule,” I tell her, and when she doesn’t respond, I clarify, “It’s my bar. I own it.”

  “That’s right. I remember hearing that from Gavin.”

  “How do you know Gavin?” I ask.

  “He stops by my place every now and then.”

  Giving her a confused look, she assures, “Not to see me. My roommate, Ashley, and him have known each other for a while.”

  Nodding my head, she continues, “Bar must do pretty well.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “This is a big space you have. It’s nice.” She takes another sip of water and sets the glass down on the coffee table.

  I bought this loft with the money my father left behind. When he died, everything stayed locked up in an account, untouched for years. My mother wanted nothing to do with it for the longest time. She lived off of the interest, which was more than enough to support us.

  My father dealt in acquisitions, making a name for himself until he no longer had a name to make. I was still living with Gavin in an apartment after I graduated college when I fell into my business deal with the bar. I had been wanting a place of my own, but with the money I was sinking into the
buyout, I couldn’t afford anything. When I stumbled upon this place, it was perfect. The previous owner had done a full remodel, so it was turnkey ready. I couldn’t turn it down, especially with the housing market in the shitter. I tapped into my father’s money, bought it, and never looked back.

  “It’s getting late,” I tell her.

  “You don’t talk much, do you?” Her inquiry is laced with curiosity to get to know me.

  “No.”

  “Yeah,” she sighs. “I’ll see you later?”

  Knowing that her offer is probably the one with the least repercussions, I say, “I’ll call you.” This chick is a no strings girl. Perfect.

  She stands up, and I walk her to the door, giving her a chaste kiss before she leaves.

  It wasn’t but a few days after I had Gina over that she called me. We’ve been getting together for the past couple of weeks. It beats having to go out all the time only to wind up back at square one. But the last time she came over, she wasn’t so quick to leave. I know my reputation; girls know it too. But if this one thinks that she’s gonna be the one to tie me down, she’s got it all wrong.

  I know I’m only making it worse as I lie here, watching her pad out of the room to go grab me a bottle of water. But what she gives me is what I need. So I take.

  When she walks back into the room, holding my camera, she says in a flirty voice, “What kind of pictures do you have stored on this?” She slips back into bed, still naked, and I take the camera from her that I left out earlier today when I was taking pictures of one of Mel’s friends. “You photograph people?”

  “Mainly.”

  “Really?” she responds with a hint of excitement.

  “Really,” I say.

  I’ve always loved art, and photography is something I started tinkering with while I was in college. I don’t do a whole lot of it, but what little I do, I enjoy. It’s nice to have something to focus on every now and then.

  Rolling onto her stomach, she peers up at me and whispers, “Photograph me.”