Julie's Butterfly

by Greta Milán

  Julie ate a mouthful. The chicken was delicious. “Do you never cook for yourself?”

  “To be honest, I don’t particularly enjoy it.”

  “Why?”

  “It takes time to prepare a really good meal. Spending hours in the kitchen for something that’s gone in ten minutes doesn’t seem like a good return on investment to me.”

  “But surely if you’re talking about investment, you have to admit that eating out or ordering takeout every day is a little excessive, don’t you think?”

  Bastian took a sip of wine. “Maybe, but if you can afford it and prefer to spend your time on other things, you can allow yourself a certain degree of decadence.”

  Julie looked around. His apartment was vast for one person, the furniture and decor looked expensive, and it appeared likely that he employed a house cleaner. He drove an average car, but he might just have kept it for nostalgic reasons.

  “What exactly do you mean by ‘if you can afford it’?”

  “I’m not a millionaire, if that’s what you’re asking.” Bastian grinned. “But I’m doing well enough that I don’t have to worry about where I get my food.”

  “Can a photographer make such a good living?” She had always assumed that people who worked in the arts usually lived at or near poverty level. But that didn’t seem to be the case with him.

  “I had a few good years. Lots of work. Lots of profit. I’ve got my studio right here, so I save on the cost of renting one. My work is mainly digital, so all I need is my camera equipment, my laptop, and my expertise,” he explained proudly but without arrogance.

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “I also had my share of luck. I happened to approach my clients at the right time, and we developed a sound working relationship that benefits both parties. I’ve also got some of my pictures on sale through various online image banks.”

  “Will you show me some of your pictures?”

  Bastian laughed. “There are thousands.”

  Julie pursed her lips. “Do you have a favorite?”

  “Actually, I do.” His mysterious smile aroused her curiosity. She pushed her empty plate aside; Bastian had long since finished.

  “Show me.”

  Bastian hesitated, but Julie took him by the hand and dragged him off his stool. She let him go first, as she was not sure which of the two doors off his living room led to his studio.

  Bastian’s studio gave the impression of pure professionalism. Apart from the cables lying in a confused tangle on the table in the center of the room, everything appeared to be meticulously arranged. Bastian walked over to a shallow cupboard and pulled out a suspended document rack.

  Julie raised herself impatiently on tiptoe and peered over his shoulder. It seemed that this was where he kept his treasures. He leafed through them until he found what he was looking for, then pulled out a folder and passed an eight-by-ten print to her.

  His green eyes displayed so much emotion that it took her breath away for a moment.

  She looked at the image and gasped. She did not know what she had expected—perhaps a visual experiment of some kind or one of the anonymous people he’d mentioned he liked to photograph. She had certainly not expected to be looking into eyes that bore such an incredible resemblance to her own.

  The big black-and-white photo had captured Luke playing with the other children at the zoo. His hair was ruffled by the wind, and his cheeks were glowing. His brown eyes were shining, and his exuberant laughter exposed the gap in his teeth. He looked so free and happy that she felt tears spring to her eyes. It reflected the essence of carefree childhood.

  “Why this one?” she asked softly.

  He folded his arms anxiously. “Because it reminds me of a special day.”

  Although Julie was hurt that he would not express his true feelings for her, the fact that he had shown this photo to her was enough. For now.

  “It’s amazing.”

  “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” he asked.

  Julie sniffled loudly, then laughed. “Of course not.” She laid the picture aside and hugged him tenderly. “I’d love to have a copy.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Julie looked up at him. “Will you show me a few more pictures?”

  Bastian ran his fingers nervously through his hair. “Some other time, maybe.”

  Julie’s shoulders sagged. She would have loved to see more, but she sensed this wasn’t easy for him. She nodded and looked around the room. “So this is where you work.”

  “Mostly.”

  “What’s all the equipment?”

  Bastian moved over to a row of large, flat pieces of variously colored canvas leaning against the wall.

  “These are reflectors,” he explained. “They’re used to manipulate the ambient light. Look here.” He picked up one of the reflectors, used it to catch the light from the ceiling, and turned it so that Julie was momentarily blinded by the light.

  Bastian showed her some of his other equipment and enthusiastically told her about the various ways they could be used. He found ever more frequent excuses to touch her as he stood behind her and pointed out some new perspective or shift in the light. Each time, Julie’s body reacted with a tingling sensation. Although she had a strong desire to feel him even closer, she held back because she so enjoyed seeing his enthusiasm for his work.

  She’d had a long day, however, and could eventually no longer fend off her exhaustion. Bastian noticed her suppressing a yawn and stopped with a frown.

  “I let myself get a bit carried away, didn’t I?” he remarked.

  “Sorry.” Julie snuggled into his arms. “I could listen to you forever.”

  “Because my voice is so soporific?” he teased her gently as he ran a hand down her back.

  “No. It’s just that I’d never realized how much technical equipment is involved in taking photos. When I take a picture, it’s mainly to capture a lovely memory. I’m generally satisfied if it’s recognizable. Listening to you, I see why photography is considered an art.”

  Bastian laughed. “On that note, I declare your first lesson finished.”

  “I look forward to the next one,” she murmured. She pressed her nose against his chest and breathed in his now-familiar scent. Entranced, she raised her head, stood on tiptoe, and planted a series of small kisses around his neck.

  It seemed she was not as tired as she’d thought.

  “Perhaps it’s time to move on to another field of study?” she whispered in his ear. She chided herself for the cliché, but Bastian didn’t seem put off by it. He ran his hand firmly down her back and settled it on one buttock before lowering his face to receive her kiss. She moaned as their lips met.

  She slowly lowered her hand to explore beneath his sweater. She stroked his warm skin lightly with her fingertips. Bastian stiffened but didn’t pull away. She waited until he relaxed, then ran her hand upward until her fingertips were dancing lightly over his back. As she skimmed over the slight irregularities on his skin, the painful realization dawned on her that these must be scars. She hadn’t noticed them before.

  She tentatively ran her fingers farther up his back, stopping when she reached something strange—could it be artificial?—on his shoulder blade. It felt like a piece of film stuck to his back and was at least the size of her hand.

  Uncertainly, she drew back.

  “What’s that?” she asked, increasing the pressure of her fingers to indicate what she meant.

  Bastian frowned. Suddenly, all traces of desire vanished from his eyes. “No more.”

  Julie moved her head back a little. “An injury, yes?”

  His dark expression was confirmation enough.

  “How did it happen?”

  “I don’t remember exactly.”

  Julie didn’t believe him. He was
clearly not being honest with her, and that thought alone was enough to halt her own desire.

  “And why can’t you remember exactly?” she insisted.

  Something unfathomable flickered in his green eyes. “I don’t know exactly when it happened because my attention was diverted,” he said unconvincingly. He gave a pained sigh. “These things happen to me all the time. It’s nothing to make a fuss about, and I manage fine.” His eyes softened. “Time heals all wounds.” He quoted the words of wisdom with a crooked smile.

  “Not all.”

  “But most. I’m living proof of it,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose gently. “It’s not important, OK?”

  Julie nodded in a daze. “OK.”

  She would have to learn not to overreact every time he hurt himself.

  “Come now. I’ll take you home.”

  She didn’t actually want to go. She wanted to stay at his place and sleep in his arms. But she had to get up early the next morning, as she was taking over her sick boss’s shift, and she had a hungry little cat who was eagerly awaiting her return.

  When he pulled up outside her building, she looked at him sleepily. She was absolutely exhausted. “That was a lovely evening.”

  Bastian smiled. “I had a great time too.”

  His voice sounded sincere, compensation for the fact that she would soon be crawling into her bed alone. She looked sullenly out at the rain.

  “You don’t happen to have an umbrella, do you?” she asked hopefully.

  “I’ve got something better.”

  Bastian hopped out of the car and ran around to her side. He held her door open as she blinked in irritation at the rain. Bastian had removed his coat and spread it over his head. He reached out his hand.

  “My own living umbrella,” she said, delighted. With a giggle she stepped out into his dry embrace and snuggled up to his warm body. “This is so much better.”

  “I thought so too.”

  He guided her to the entrance and stopped outside her door, then he took her chin in his hands and brushed a light farewell kiss over her lips. A flicker of heat was kindled inside her, but before she could get carried away, he had disappeared back into the rain with a final longing glance.

  CHAPTER 21

  Julie had sent Bastian a message saying that she would be finishing early at the café and that he should pick her up at home. He was nervous as he knocked on her door.

  She would like Felix, he was certain. She would recognize his intelligence and his offbeat sense of humor. But she would also experience head-on the utter truth of what life for a butterfly child could be like. And she would inevitably come to her own conclusions about it. He wouldn’t hold it against her; everyone had reservations. He had only himself to blame for not considering the matter earlier. Until now, his only concern had been the question of whether it was advisable to introduce her to his friends at all if their time together would be limited.

  But there was no going back now.

  Julie threw open the door. She was standing before him in nothing but a towel. Water dripped from her wet hair onto her shoulders. She stretched onto the tips of her toes and kissed him, then grinned. “You’re early.”

  Bastian cocked his head and let his gaze wander appreciatively over her. “I’d say I came at precisely the right time.”

  She broke out in goose bumps, and Bastian wasn’t convinced they were entirely due to the cold draft blowing into the apartment. He closed the door and stepped resolutely up to her as she pulled his gloves off his fingers.

  He just had to touch her.

  Her eyes widened under his burning gaze.

  “We’ll be late,” she warned him weakly.

  “You’re probably right.” He put his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him. With his lips, he concentrated first on the small droplets on the nape of her neck. His hands found their way beneath her towel and stroked her soft skin. He guided her into the living room, but it was brightly lit—no way could he seduce her there. He hoped his kisses would be enough to distract her as he changed direction and moved her toward the dark bedroom.

  Julie pushed her hands tentatively beneath his sweater. He was ready for her touch, but he still flinched as her fingertips skimmed over his sensitive skin. She paused for a moment, as though she could sense his tension, but then she dug her fingers into the sweater and pulled it, together with the T-shirt beneath it, over his head so that he stood before her with his torso bared. He resisted the impulse to fold his arms over his chest. It was so dark in the room that she would hardly be able to see him. He almost felt safe.

  As she’d stretched to remove his sweater, her towel had come loose and fallen to the floor.

  Perfect.

  Julie nestled her naked body up to his bare chest. She let out a deep sigh, wound her arms firmly around him, and gently stroked his back.

  The warmth she radiated touched him inside.

  Driven wild, he began to kiss her.

  For a brief time, he forgot the world around him.

  Bastian returned only reluctantly to reality.

  Julie lay spent beside him, fighting for breath. “We’re going to be late,” she panted with a laugh.

  Bastian sprang up, discreetly removed his condom, and dressed before Julie had a chance to turn on the bedside light.

  “Wait. I’ll do that,” he said as casually as he could and went to the door to switch on the ceiling light.

  Both of them blinked in the bright glare. Looking at Julie, his breath caught.

  Her slightly damp brown hair stood out in all directions. Her sensuous mouth was red from his hungry kisses, her dark eyes shone, and her creamy skin appeared to glow from within. The way she smiled at him so innocently was indescribably beautiful. He could hardly bear the thought that she would eventually look at him with horror or revulsion.

  A small line creased Julie’s brow. Had she noticed his fear?

  He blinked again. “We’d better go,” he said, forcing a casual smile.

  She got up, came toward him, and studied him closely. Whatever she saw in his eyes caused her to press a comforting kiss onto his lips and smile. “I’ll hurry,” she promised and disappeared into the bathroom.

  He followed her in a daze and splashed cold water on his face while she slipped into tight-fitting jeans and a dark-green sweater. She then hip checked him away from the sink with a cheeky grin. The playful gesture was enough to lift his spirits, and he gave her a playful clap on the behind.

  “I’ll wait outside.”

  “I’ll be finished very soon.”

  Fully aware that “very soon” was a relative term for women, he sat down on the sofa with Spot, who demanded his full attention with a loud purr.

  As it was already after eight, he sent Felix a message to say they would be a few minutes late. Fortunately, he had already ordered and picked up the food on his way over. He could only hope the food would still be at least somewhat warm by the time they arrived.

  To his surprise, Julie really did only need a few minutes. Helping her with her coat, he asked, “Have you got everything?”

  She glanced in her purse. “Key, phone, wallet, tissues.” She grinned. “I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.”

  Bastian raised an amused eyebrow. “The mysteries of a woman’s purse?”

  “Exactly.”

  He followed her to the door and then stopped abruptly. “Where are my gloves?”

  “No idea.” Julie frowned. “Where did you take them off?”

  Bastian searched around the hall. “Somewhere around here.”

  “But we’re going to see your friends,” she said. “Do you really need them?”

  Yes, he needed them. Really. They might have to stop somewhere on the way. Or Felix might ask him to run an errand for him. Or they might run into someone on the stre
et.

  He searched the floor in growing panic. Where had he left the stupid things? He always knew where they were.

  “Here they are.” Julie bent down, picked them up, and handed them to him.

  He took them with relief. “Thanks.”

  “Everything OK?” She studied him with a furrowed brow.

  “Yes.” Bastian pulled the gloves on and suppressed a pained sigh. “Everything’s OK.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  As he was getting in the car, his phone pinged.

  “Felix is getting impatient,” he said, tapping in a quick reply to let Felix know they were on their way. “Fortunately, it’s only a few minutes from here.”

  “Is there anything I should know before we meet?”

  “I’ve already told you he’s more badly affected than I am.”

  “I actually meant topics of conversation that would be best avoided. Religious fanaticism, former loves, terrorizing nurses. Things like that.”

  He was a complete idiot. He’d just made it obvious that he feared her reaction to Felix.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat before shaking his head. “No need to hold back. Felix and Elena are both very open-minded.”

  As they drove off, he saw Julie fumbling nervously with the strap of her purse in her lap.

  “I’ve thought of something,” he announced finally.

  Julie looked at him uncertainly.

  “He’s bound to try and steal you,” said Bastian trying his best to smile. “You’d be doing him a huge favor if you politely put him off. Otherwise I might have to hurt him.”

  “And then you’ll sling me over your shoulder and carry me off to your cave?”

  He laid a hand on her knee, gently stroked her thigh, and threw her a dark look. “I’ll do that anyway.”

  A light blush rose in her cheeks. “Neanderthal,” she murmured, but the gleam in her eye told him she was just as taken by the idea as he was.

  He could hardly wait to be back inside her, even though the last time had been barely half an hour ago. She really was making a Neanderthal of him.

  “What did you do today?” he asked in an attempt to distract himself.