You Before Me

by Lindsay Paige

  Damn it. I need to stop. This is getting ridiculous, and my rambling train is flying off the tracks. The fire painting and what I felt when I saw it comes to mind. Maybe I should make a trip back. It couldn't hurt, and a chance to see everything again would be fun. I could go tomorrow.

  First, I have to get home from my class for my ticket. This week has been full of homework, texting Gabe, thinking too much, and classes. I haven't been to a party since that one after I met Gabe, and it feels odd. Only because it's a change in routine, though. Instead of going out, getting drunk, dancing, and sleeping with a random guy, I've been hanging out with Gabe. I don't miss it though. Not really. If I'm honest, I would even go as far as to say that I like things better this way.

  I'm enjoying learning Gabe's body and what he likes. I like that he's learning those same things about me. We've developed an intimacy between us, something more than simple touches that don't mean a thing, and I think that's my favorite part. He's sweet and thoughtful, and I hope he'll let me stick around for a long time.

  Once I park and get out of my car, I wrap my jacket tighter around me as I walk up the stairs to my apartment, keeping my eyes down at the ground to watch my step. When I look up after the last step, Gabe is leaning against my door with his arms folded over his chest, his focus on his crossed ankles. He looks so good like that.

  “Gabe? What are you doing here?”

  He lifts his head with a smile. “I wanted to see you.”

  “How long have you been waiting in the cold?” I ask as he steps aside, so I can unlock my door.

  “Not long. I knew about what time you would be here, so I came over.”

  Hm. He didn't text me first or anything to tell me he was here. We step inside, and I'm slammed with worry over his surprise visit. Is he here to break up with me? Or does he just want sex? What couldn't be said over the phone or wait until tomorrow? I really hope he's here for sex. That I can easily deal with, and I could go for some sex. Why am I freaking out? I never freak out. See what has happened to me?! This is what my thinking does to me. I need to know what he wants from me, from us. Sooner rather than later.

  “Are you going to keep trying to figure out why I'm here or are you going to let me tell you?” By Gabe's tone, he's obviously trying not to laugh.

  I send a glare his way before going into the kitchen to grab something to drink. “Do you want anything?” I ask sweetly.

  “No, thanks.”

  Removing the bottle cap and leaning against the kitchen counter, I finally ask, “Okay. Tell me why you're here.” I watch him as I take a big swallow of drink.

  Gabe walks over, rests his hands lightly over my hips, and I gulp. “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Want to make a trip to Raleigh?” His eyes light up, thinking about the art museum. I'm surprised when I feel a surge of excitement to see more art, and I squeal a yes. This is perfect timing, especially since I was just thinking about going to see the painting again. Gabe laughs, kissing me quickly. “You don't know how excited it makes me that you are just as thrilled as I am about this,” he says.

  “I can't help it. What time do we leave?” I wish we could leave right now, but I doubt the museum is open tonight. That place is supposed to be huge, three stories high according to their website. I was curious about it and since I was thinking about the fire painting during my class and was bored, I looked up the Raleigh museum. I can just imagine all the fantastic pieces that will be there.

  “Around one. We can hang out in Raleigh tomorrow and then go to the museum on Saturday, coming home Sunday morning. Does that sound good?”

  I nod. “Do you know what would sound even better?” Gabe raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. “If you stayed here tonight.” Now that he's here, I don't want him to go, even though I'll see him tomorrow and spend the next two days with him.

  Gabe grins. “I was hoping you would say that.” He laughs and adds, “I took the liberty of packing my bags already because if you didn't ask me to stay, I was going to ask if I could. If you said no, I would be a very sad man having to drive back home.”

  Laughing, I shake my head at him. “Well, I don't know about you, but I've had a super long day, and I'm tired. Go get your things. I'm going to take a shower.”

  He nods, gives me another quick kiss, and then heads to his car while I head to the bathroom. It feels like this is quite a step forward for us. I'm not sure why, but it seems like since we're taking a trip, even if it's only a couple hours away, that our relationship is getting more serious. It shouldn't be too different, though, I wouldn't think. I mean, we have spent weekends together before. This time we're going to be away from home and in a hotel. At least no one will be able to barge in on us.

  When I get out of the shower, all ready for bed, Gabe is already laying down. The blankets stop at his hips, leaving his chest bare and yummy with his hands behind his head. I took extra time to dry my hair, so I half expected him to be asleep already. Wearing shorts and a cami, I slide into bed next to him. I scoot closer, laying on top of him, returning his smile, and wanting nothing more than to kiss Gabe. So I do.

  Gabe pushes my shirt up a bit to lay his fingers flat on my back. For minutes, we kiss before he playfully bites my lower lip and then kisses me fully again. I can't help my sigh. Gabe pulls away a bit, grinning.

  “What?” I ask, my lips feeling a bit swollen.

  “I love when you do that.”

  “Kiss you?” I question, confused as to why he would interrupt our make-out session to tell me that.

  Gabe laughs. “Yes, but that's not what I meant. I was talking about that little happy sigh of yours.”

  Oh. Anchoring my arms on either side of his head, I bend my hands so I can play in his hair. “This one?” I sigh breathlessly, but end up laughing at how ridiculous it sounds. Gabe grins, but he nods anyway. “Good to know.” I kiss him once. “We should get some sleep, right?” Before he can answer, I give him another kiss, parting his mouth with my tongue.

  “Mhm,” he hums.

  Reluctantly, I pull away, sliding off to lay next to him. I rest my head on his chest and attempt to fall asleep, but it's impossible. Why did Gabe pick this weekend to go? Or what made him decide earlier tonight that he wanted to go?

  “Hey, why are we going this weekend? It's kind of last minute. Not that I don't want to go, but I'm just wondering.”

  “I need a break, and I wanted to leave here for a bit. Work has been stressing me out, so with two days off back-to-back, I figured I better make the most of it. I booked the hotel this afternoon. You going with me was the only thing I wasn't sure would happen. And just so you know, I expect at least one bubble bath while we're gone.”

  “We can make that happen.” I smile. “Let's go to bed for real this time,” I add, closing my eyes and falling asleep much quicker than I expected.

  * * *

  It's Friday and once we got to Raleigh, we pretty much just loafed around. We walked around, did some shopping, and held hands all day. I truly felt like Gabe's girlfriend. We were a couple. It sounds weird to me. I almost don't recognize myself. I'm still me, sure, but something is different. The thought nags in the back of my mind as we walk around the museum.

  We've already been here for an hour and haven't even made it to the second floor yet. Each painting grabs my attention, begging me to look at the texture the brush strokes made, to examine every piece, and to appreciate the beauty each one offers. This place is much larger than the one back home. I can't absorb everything in one day! But I'm trying. Who knows when I'll be here again. None of the paintings captivate me quite like the fire one, but I do find a few more favorites.

  Some are landscapes, which turns out to be Gabe's favorite kind. I love listening to him tell me bits of information about either the paintings or the artists, but it's not much. Just things that he's learned along the way. There are a few particularly haunting paintings that I see and love immediately.
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  One is set in a living room, quite bare with a lack of items. There's one table and three people are sitting at it. A man, a woman, and an elderly man. All of them are wearing smiles, looking happy. But on the opposite side, there is a girl in a long, poofy dress. She's looking longingly out the window, and her stance allows me to see her face just enough to know what she's feeling. The girl is sad, not nearly as happy as the others seem to be. She's lonely. Her gaze outside makes me think that if she had the chance, she would run away. My mind starts to build a story for each of them. What is hidden beneath the ordinary faces of adults to make the girl want to run from them? Or maybe there is something on the other side that we can't see, something to make her want to leave and give up her family.

  I stand for a long time looking at that painting before Gabe drags me to see more. The next two I find are drawings and are opposite copies of one another. They are set up the same, but done with different colors. They both focus on a couple in the center of the canvas. The couple is holding hands, standing as if they were at the alter about to be married, only they are dressed plainly and are alone. They are surrounded by a semi-circle of trees and birds, butterflies, and even a doe are mixed in the background as well.

  The drawing on the left is done in varying shades of black, gray, and white with bursts of color here and there. One of the butterflies is drawn in perfect detail in brown, blue, and yellow. A leaf in each one of the trees is a bright green. A single piece of grass stands out near their feet. The faces of the couple are done in color too, and they are smiling with love. Next, I notice that a gold ring as been drawn on their hands. It's easy to see on the woman's hand, but the color just is noticeable on the man's left hand.

  The other one is the complete opposite. It has lots of colors with voids here and there. There are black leaves randomly hanging in the trees. A patch of black grass, a blackbird, a black butterfly, and then, there is the couple's faces. A black oval. These two don't make sense to me, but I have the nagging urge to figure them out.

  Why does one highlight random places, their rings, and their faces with color while the other is so colorful, but has those dreary black voids? What was the artist trying to say? What does it all mean? If there is a meaning behind it. In the first one, simple, ordinary things are in color. A blade of grass, the butterfly, leaves, the rings, and their faces. Why those things? And with the other, the black takes up more space in comparison to the color in the first. I think I like the one with bursts of color than one with black tainting the overall feel.

  I see hope in the colors against the bland background. There is hope in the couple's faces. With the other, I feel like the blackness is going to grow until it sucks away all the colors completely. There. I've figured it out. One holds promise while the other is beginning to lose the battle.

  “What do you see, Ryan?” Gabe asks quietly. We've been standing here too long, I know. I don't think I can explain what I see though. It probably won't make a lot of sense out loud.

  “I'm not sure,” I lie before I move us on to the next one.

  The more I see, the more I want to see another and then another and another. Honestly, I love them all. I can appreciate some of the sculptures on display, but the paintings, drawings, and photographs lure me in, hypnotizing me. I soak it up, greedy for more. Hours pass as we walk through this place.

  Even after we leave and Gabe heads to eat at a modern, cozy restaurant, I'm still thinking about the art, replaying them in my mind, searching for an absolute favorite. One that I can compare to the fire painting. It has to be the drawings. I'm still mulling over those more than any of the others.

  “This weekend almost doesn't seem real. Does it feel that way to you too?” I ask after our waiter walks away with our orders.

  “What do you mean?” Gabe tilts his head, and I feel his fingers drawing patterns on my knee underneath the table.

  “It's been like the most laid-back weekend ever. I guess that's why it feels that way. Or the calm before the storm. Thanksgiving is in two weeks.” I frown at the thought. Things haven't been peachy lately, which means the holidays are going to suck. Maybe I'll just stay here this year.

  “Ryan.” He waits until I look up at him, I didn't even realize I was staring at my glass. “We aren't thinking about that stuff today. Tell me which painting was your favorite,” he says to effectively change the subject.

  And just like that my mind is lost in all the art we saw today. For some reason, I don't want to tell him that my favorites were the drawings, so our conversation turns into idle chit-chat. Gabe starts telling me some story as we eat, but I barely pay attention. Walking around that museum, seeing all the art, felt so good. This is twice that I've loved coming to a place like this, and I want to come back again and again.

  What if every day could be like today? Wouldn't it be so cool to be surrounded by art like that all the time? That would be awesome. As we head back to the hotel, I wonder what other art museums we have in the state. Thoughts like these swirl around my mind as we go back to the hotel and then change for the night.

  Gabe retreats into the bathroom, and I sit at the foot of the bed, still thinking. Suddenly, everything clears, and it hits me. I can have days like this all the time. I would love to have a job as a dealer, an art historian, or an appraiser. Something in that area. That's what my major should be. I can get an art degree and do any of those things.

  “Ryan,” Gabe interrupts my thoughts, sounding exasperated.

  “What?” I question when he walks over and sits next to me, placing a hand on my thigh.

  He examines me carefully and says, “I've been trying to get your attention. What are you thinking about? Is everything okay? You've been pretty quiet for the past few hours.”

  My heart swells, feeling too large for my chest. There are so many things that I want to tell him, and I'm not sure where to start or if I should tell him everything that's happening in my head right now. With a deep breath, the words flow from my lips, my eyes focused on his.

  “Gabe, you've somehow managed to come in and completely change my life. You have reorganized, thrown things away, and unearthed things I didn't even know I had. I found my passion today, and you were the one to lead me to it. For the first time in my life, something seriously appeals to me. It's all thanks to you. I want to major in art. Realizing that, I feel at peace almost, but then again, I feel off kilter. Life for me feels calmer but chaotic at the same time. I don't know what to do about it.”

  The words I said about loving Gabe repeat themselves once more. In reality, I probably shouldn't actually do anything, but I feel like I should. Like something has to be done to acknowledge what has happened here. I don't think I've even cussed today. What the hell?

  Whew. That felt good.

  Gabe reaches over, takes my hand, and silences my inner dialogue. “Nothing.”

  “What?”

  “You said that you don't know what to do. Nothing. If you're happy, then nothing needs to be done. Leave it alone and let it be.”

  Nothing? Is that even possible?

  “Don't start thinking, Ryan,” he playfully chides.

  I grin, the sudden urge to kiss him and tell him I love him overwhelms me. The words refuse to leave my mouth, so I lean over to let my lips talk for me. Does Gabe feel the atmospheric change around us too? Pulling away from our kiss, I gaze at him. Everything seems to be falling into place for me. I couldn't complain about my life in this exact moment even if I wanted to do so.

  “We haven't taken our bath yet, you know,” I say.

  Gabe smiles, wordlessly stands as he takes my hand and leads me into the bathroom. He booked a bigger room for just this reason. The white tub is large and round, inviting two people to relax inside. While Gabe turns on the water, allowing it to run over his fingers as he tests the temperature, I grab my bottle from the sink. The tub starts filling with hot water once Gabe is satisfied. I pour in a bunch of the bubble bath liquid. Steam rises from the tub, and I wonder
if it will be too hot.

  When it's halfway full, Gabe stands upright and pulls his shirt off. My eyes travel over his torso, the black chest hair standing out against his tan skin. Not to mention the line of hair that disappears beneath his pajama pants. I lick my lips intentionally, and Gabe laughs, a wide grin showing off his teeth.

  “Now, Gabe, how am I supposed to get naked and get in a tub with you when you're laughing at me?”

  The jerk has the nerve to laugh harder. “I'm sorry,” he lies once his laughter dies down. Gabe steps over to me, lifting his hand to run his thumb over my lower lip. “The way you looked when you ran your tongue over these? You just seemed so turned on with a little skin showing and,” he starts to chuckle, “I found it funny.”

  I playfully push him away and turn off the water before the tub gets too full. “You're a jackass.” Trying my best to not look at him, I quickly undress, slowly stepping into our bubble bath. The water is like two degrees away from being too hot. Once I've lowered myself completely, I bring my knees to my chest and finally look at Gabe.

  Mmm. He's completely undressed now. I could look at his body all day. Unfortunately for me, he steps in behind me. With his legs on either side of me, he pulls me backwards to rest against his chest. The quiet around us reminds me that we don't have any music.

  “We forgot the music,” I tell him as he kisses the top of my shoulder.

  “We don't need it, do we?”

  “No.” And we don't. We can sit here in total silence.

  Gabe tucks my hair behind my ears, so he can kiss my neck. With his lips against my skin, he murmurs, “Are we taking a relaxing bubble bath?”

  His lets his fingers drum from my knees down my thighs. We've had sex three times since yesterday already. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me or why I answer the way I do.

  “Yes, we are.”

  Gabe lays his hands over my stomach, not even going to try to change my mind. Like the last time, I lean my head back on his shoulder and close my eyes. As we soak, I soon get lost in my thoughts. This weekend seems too perfect. I'm here with Gabe, we went to the art museum, and I found my passion. What will my parents think of this? They weren't happy with a language degree, so I doubt they'll be happy with an art degree. Will this world as I'm currently experiencing it crash around me when I get back home?