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

by E. K. Blair

  When we walk in, I take her bags back to her room and am helping her unpack her things when her roommate, whom I’ve never met, steps in the doorway and asks, “You’re back?”

  “Um . . . yeah,” I watch Candace tell her nervously.

  When Kimber doesn’t respond, I try breaking some of the tension and introduce myself. “I’m Ryan, by the way.”

  She nods her head, saying, “I’m Kimber.”

  That’s it for our exchange as she stands there. She’s tall with platinum blonde hair and has a look about her that’s very different from Candace’s.

  “Well, Seth’s on his way over, so I’ll be in my room,” she says before walking out.

  Candace goes over and closes the door, keeping her hands on it as she drops her head. I step next to her and see she’s crying.

  “Babe,” I whisper as I hold her face.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she says as she hugs me.

  There’s nothing I can say because I honestly think there isn’t much of a friendship to be mended at this point. Candace chose to keep this secret from Kimber, and I don’t blame her. From what little I have heard about this chick, she’s seems like a spitfire who would probably run her mouth. But regardless, Kimber’s been out of the loop while Candace has been dealing with some heavy shit, and even Jase told me that she’s a completely different person now. Kimber’s missed all of that, so it’s not so far-fetched to safely assume that what once bonded them is no longer there.

  We lie down on her bed for a while, not ready to leave just yet. She’s no longer crying, but I know she’s still upset about the whole situation, so I tell her, “I don’t want you thinking that you’re the one to blame for what’s happened with you and Kimber. This isn’t your fault. You made the best decision that you could at the time when you chose to not tell her about what happened. Nobody holds that against you, and I don’t want you too either.”

  “It’s easy to say, but . . .”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong here. Sometimes life just sucks, and things fall apart. Not all friendships can last forever. People change, and whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve changed. And I don’t want you thinking shit about yourself because I love every single piece of who you are—right now.”

  I watch as her face scrunches up and she begins to cry. “Baby, don’t.”

  Looking up at me through her tears, she reveals, “I wish every day that you knew me before. That you didn’t have to deal with this baggage. I think about how everything could have been so different than it is now. Better.”

  “Who says it would be better?” I question as I smooth her hair back.

  “Because it never would have happened.”

  I shift to my side to face her, saying, “I wish, more than you will ever know, that this never happened to you. But there isn’t one single part of you that I would change. That night is a piece of you, but it doesn’t tarnish you. Not for me. I love us. I love what we have together and what you give me. Somehow you got inside me. No one has been able to do that before, but you did. You’ve seen shit that I’ve never let anyone see. Shit that I’ve masked for years, but with you . . . you made me want to take the mask off and in the process I fell in love with you. So I don’t know how you think we could be any better than we are because I think we’re pretty perfect.” I run my thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears.

  “I don’t . . . I don’t even know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. Just know that you have me. I’m here because of you. I’m yours because I don’t want to give myself to anyone else. No one could ever compare to you.”

  I can barely focus on the road as I drive to Thinkspace for the gallery showing tonight. Candace looks amazing in the lace dress she’s wearing. I never thought pencil skirts were sexy until I saw them on her. Most of her dressier outfits are of the same style and tonight, I would have rather stayed in with the dress tossed to the floor, but I have every intention of ending the night that way.

  Candace hasn’t stayed over with me since she went back home, and I’ve missed not having her there with me. I also worry. There is rarely a night when she doesn’t have problems sleeping. Ever since that one horrifying nightmare, she’s been back on her sleeping pill, but she says they only help control the really vivid dreams. She still wakes often from night terrors, and I don’t like the idea of her dealing with that alone, but she insists that she’s fine.

  When we arrive, I help Candace down from her seat and lead her inside. She’s been so excited for tonight, inviting Jase, Mark, and Gavin. I never took my photography that seriously until lately. I’ve been spending more time shooting, mostly Candace, and editing. I like the focus of having a hobby, and knowing that I can share that with her is a bonus.

  “I’m really proud of you, you know?” she says as we walk inside.

  “Babe, the only reason that photo is on display is because you’re in it. You’re perfect.”

  I take her coat and check it when I hear a lady call, “Candace!”

  “Stacy, hi,” Candace says and hugs a tall, slender woman who looks close to my age with short, raven hair.

  “That dress is amazing,” she says to Candace.

  “Thank you.”

  “And this is . . .?” she asks as she looks at me.

  “Ryan,” Candace introduces.

  “Ahh, ‘Nubile.’ Beautiful photograph,” she says as I reach out to take her hand. “I’m Stacy Keets. I work at the Henry Gallery.”

  “Ryan Campbell,” I say.

  “Well, your piece is great. I saw a couple eying it a minute ago. Do you have more pieces?”

  “A few,” I tell her. “It wasn’t ever something I intended to show anyone or have displayed, but Candace insisted,” I add with a smile as I wrap my hand around her waist.

  “I’m glad she did. I’d love to see more of your work,” she tells me before looking at Candace and asking, “Do you still have my number?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Give me a call,” she says to me. “We have some wall space opening up soon, so if you’re interested, we can discuss the possibility of displaying some of your pieces.”

  “Will do. I’ll have Candace give me your number.”

  She turns back to Candace, telling her, “And I owe you a congratulations. I heard about your audition from Sergej.”

  “I hope it was all good.”

  She softens her voice when she says, “He thinks people will be fighting for you to sign with their companies.”

  “I can only hope,” Candace responds with her modesty that I love so much. She’s humble and gracious. She knows she’s amazing but would never say it out loud.

  “No hoping. I’m looking forward to seeing you perform in May.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be sure Ryan calls you,” she tells Stacy.

  “Enjoy your night.”

  “You too, Stacy,” I say and then head over to the bar where we spot Jase and Mark.

  “Hey, man,” Mark says when we approach.

  We visit for a few minutes when Candace excuses herself to roam around the gallery with Jase. Art showings really aren’t my thing, so I grab a beer and chat with Mark. I don’t wait too long before I make my way over to the registrar.

  Walking up to the desk, there’s an elderly woman in a black cocktail dress who greets me. “Sir, how can I help you?”

  Leaning my elbows on the counter, I say, “I’d like to inquire about one of the pieces being shown.”

  “Title?”

  “‘Nubile.’”

  After a few clicks on the computer, she says, “It’s been flagged by three interests, but no purchases yet.”

  “I’d like to purchase it then.”

  “Great! I have it marked for twelve hundred.”

  Shit. I had no idea my work would be worth that much. I had the photo canvassed in a large 24x40 wrap after it was accepted.

  When I hand her my credit card, she begins to explain, “
The piece is scheduled to remain on display until mid-April. At that time, preparatory will wrap it and have the piece delivered, unless you would like to pick it up yourself.”

  “Delivery is fine.”

  “Name?”

  “Ryan Campbell.”

  She types it into her system and then looks up at me. “Ryan Campbell?”

  “Yes.”

  She grins, asking, “Mr. Campbell, is this your piece?”

  I respond with a mere wink as she continues to enter my information. There is no way in hell I’d let that photo of my girl hang in anyone’s home but my own. Taking that photo was a huge deal for her, and I wasn’t lying when I told her it was hers. She doesn’t know I’m buying it. She’d probably be mad if she knew, but that’s a memory I refuse to let someone else enjoy.

  Once I finish with the purchase, I walk around and find Candace sitting on a bench with Jase.

  “There you are,” I say as I walk over to them. Jase stands and excuses himself, giving me and Candace time alone. “Where have you been?”

  “Just walking around with Jase,” she says as she leans into me.

  “I heard someone bought your photo.”

  “Really?” she questions excitedly, and I get a kick out of her enthusiasm. But I’m done here tonight. I just want to be alone with her, away from everyone, because I’ve missed her.

  I stand up and take her hand. “Walk with me.”

  When she slides her hand in mine, I lead her through to the back of the gallery, hoping I can come across a private area so that I can get my hands and mouth on her in a way that just wouldn’t be appropriate in front of all these people.

  “What are we doing back here? We’re gonna get in trouble,” she says nervously.

  I laugh at her. “You’re so cute.”

  We turn to go behind a wall, far from everyone else. I back her up against it, caging her in with my hands braced on either side of her. She knows what I want and gives it to me when she takes my face in her hands and draws me in, kissing me. I take over, eager for her. I want her right here, but I know my girl, and she’s a private person. I’m shocked she’s even doing this with me right now.

  “We should go,” she mumbles between kisses.

  Pressing my hips against her, she grabs on to me, whispering my name.

  I don’t waste a second, taking her hand and leading her out the back, avoiding the time it would take to say goodbye to everyone. I just want to have her. Alone with me. In my bed.

  Pulling up the driveway, I open her door, scoop her into my arms, and carry her up the stairs to the front door and then up to my room. I lay her on the bed and stand to look down at her. The light from the moon filtering through the clouds drapes a muted silvery hue on her fair skin.

  I take my hands and run them down the length of her body, needing to feel the lace under my hands and the curve of her body beneath it. When I get to her legs, I wrap my grip behind her knees and trail them over her calves and down to her ankles, slipping off her heels, letting them fall to the floor. I toss my jacket over the chair and remove my shoes and socks before I climb into bed and back over her.

  “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I need her. The desire to have her is powerful. She looks incredible tonight, and I want her to give me another piece of her, so I make my request, saying, “Make love to me, babe.”

  By the look in her eyes, I know she understands what I mean. She’s a little apprehensive every time we’ve had sex, so I have always taken the lead. But I need this from her—the certainty. I know she’d never do anything she didn’t want to, but I also know that there is a level of fear about sex with her, and I want to give the control over to her.

  She nods her head, and we pull up to our knees. As my lips land on hers, I fix my hands on her hips and slowly drag them up her lace-covered body before finding the zipper and sliding it down. She begins to unbutton my shirt, grazing the tips of her fingers against my chest while she works her way down. After she removes my shirt, she adjusts her shoulders, allowing the dress to slip off of her and pool at her knees.

  She hangs on to my neck when I lower her down to the mattress and then pull the dress over her legs, tossing it on the floor with the rest of our clothes. My lips trail up her legs as I nip gently on her sensitive flesh, making her sigh, but she grips the sides of my head when I start planting soft kisses along her inner thigh. She clamps her hands on me, pushing me away before my mouth can reach her panties.

  Patience is hard when I want her in ways I know she isn’t ready for, but I move at her pace and allow her to lead me when she pulls my head up to her stomach. I kiss her heated skin as I start to shift her underwear down her legs. Sitting up on my knees, between her parted thighs, I run my eyes over her bare skin before she hitches her legs around my waist and pulls me down to her. But I pull back so that I can unhook my pants and kick them off.

  Before I return to her, I slip on a condom and then reach around her back, shifting her on top of my lap as I sit with my legs in front of me. With her straddling me, I unhook her bra, slipping it down her arms. She rests her hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes, when I move my hands to her hips. Lifting up on her knees, I reach down and help guide myself inside of her as she lowers herself on top of me.

  Her head falls onto the curve of my neck when she slides over me slowly, and I let my head drop against her as pleasure radiates through my body. Her frame is so small, and she’s so tight around me. My arms slide around her waist, and I hold on to her tightly when she finally lifts her head and looks into my eyes, foreheads pressed together. She rises up and takes her time as her body slowly falls back down over me.

  “God, I love you,” I breathe out.

  Our bodies are pressed together, her arms wrapped around my neck, my head dropped to her chest. I needed her to give this to me, and hearing the soft moans coming out of her, I know I’m gonna need her like this again and again. Watching her take this pleasure from me is intoxicating as I begin to lose myself in her. The way she’s moving, the way her skin smells with the light scent of her perfume, the way her hair feels as it brushes along the skin of my arms—it’s a heady combination of elements that consumes my senses, but I still crave more.

  Kissing her breasts, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against my lips, her body shudders as she rocks her hips into me. She’s clinging tightly to me, and I can hear her unsteady breathing picking up. I’m able to read her body after all the times we’ve been together, so when her thighs tighten on me and her body grows more rigid, I know she’s getting close, and knowing that she’s giving herself this makes it all the better for me.

  “Look at me, baby. I want to watch you come,” I tell her as she leans her damp forehead against mine and opens her eyes.

  She grips my hair in her hands, and I begin to feel her pulse around me.

  “God, Candace,” I moan, unable to hold on anymore, and she’s right here with me as she rides out her pleasure, all the while giving me an intense release. Heat explodes throughout my body as she continues to move over me. I run my hand up her back and catch the sweat rolling down her spine. She lets go of a heavy breath, laced with a whimper, as she draws out the last of her orgasm with me.

  My heart is pounding, and I can barely keep myself upright, so I hold her close and lie us down. Candace brushes the hair off of my forehead, and when she does, I tell her, “‘I love you’ will never be enough for what I feel for you.”

  She smiles, planting her lips on mine, and I keep myself inside of her as I pull the sheets over us and band my arms around her. This is the part I love. Having her completely content in my arms. Eyes closed and peaceful.

  Candace scares me out of a deep sleep when she violently thrashes up, gasping for air. Her breaths hit hard as she fists the sheets, knuckles white, completely shaken.

  “Babe, are you okay?” I ask as I pull the sheet up to cover her bare chest, knowing how modest she is. Sh
e clutches the sheet and begins to cry as she brings her knees up to her chest.

  “Baby, it’s just us,” I assure as I pull her into my arms.

  She’s tucked in a ball as I move her between my legs and cuddle her against my chest. She hasn’t scared me like this in a while, and I can tell that she’s completely overwhelmed right now, so I keep her close, stroking her back as I soothe her.

  “I’m sorry,” she mutters when her cries weaken.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  Taking in a deep breath, she lets it out slowly while I ask again, “Are you okay?”

  She nods her head and sits up in my arms as I run my fingers under her eyes.

  “I forgot to take my pill,” she says to me.

  “Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” I tell her, feeling guilty that I didn’t ask her before we fell sleep. I brought her home and never gave her a moment before we made love and went to bed.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Where are they?”

  “In my purse, but it’s too late to take it now,” she says, and when I grab my phone and touch the screen, it reads a quarter past three.

  She’s right. If she took her pill now, she’d sleep most of the day.

  “What do you wanna do?” I ask.

  “Nothing. It’s fine,” she tries telling me, but I know it isn’t. I remember her last nightmare, and I worry if she falls asleep that it could happen again. “Ryan, I promise,” she says, sensing my concern. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

  I lay her down, but keep her tucked into me and wrap my body around her from behind. We spend the rest of the night in a state of restless sleep because she continues to toss and turn, and I find myself awake and watching her as she drifts in and out.

  When we arrive at my mom’s the following day, it’s late, and Candace is overly exhausted with a bad headache, so she goes to bed early while my mom and I stay up visiting. By the time I wake up the next morning, Candace is already out of bed and downstairs with my mom. While drinking our coffee, Mom mentions that she has to drive out to Portland for the day to take care of few things, leaving the day open for me and Candace.