“I’d have dreams that people kidnapped me, and I’d wake up screaming and thinking I was somewhere else. My parents would run in and try to calm me down so I’d stop yelling.”
“Is that what you have nightmares about now?” Gavin asked. Though she’d shared so much already, he still looked hesitant to ask more.
“Sometimes,” she answered, deciding now wasn’t the time to get into the other reason for her bad dreams. “Anyway, one night, my mom told me to put my hand on the wall next to my bed. She ran my hand along it and told me to feel the crack in the plaster. She told me to memorize its shape and path so that when I got scared and thought I was somewhere else, I could just to reach up and touch it so I’d know I was home in my bed. It was just a dirty white wall with a crack in it, but it got me through a lot of nights.” She breathed deeply before continuing. “So when I got this apartment and saw there was a similar crack in the bedroom, I couldn’t bring myself to paint over it. Guess the chipped white wall looked pretty to me too,” she said, thinking it was one of the last good memories she had of her parents. “It feels stupid because that happened almost twenty years ago, but in some ways it still feels like yesterday.”
Gavin reached his hand out, placing it on hers without looking away from her. She concentrated on the way his thumb rubbed circles over the back of her hand. The motion soothed her, though she wasn’t aware she needed soothing until then. “It’s not stupid at all,” Gavin said, and somehow the words comforted her a bit. “Tons of people hang on to memories from when they were little.”
She smiled, but it was tight against her lips. “Yeah,” she said. “But I’m not one of them. Or at least I didn’t think I was.”
* * *
Gavin had been practically speechless as Blake told him about her childhood, but somehow he’d been able to ask a few questions—questions she’d trusted him enough to answer. There was no way he could sit silently and listen to everything she’d told him without wanting to know more. It amazed him that the beautiful woman sitting in front of him had been through so much at such a young age. He’d never known anyone who had dealt with as much as she had.
“What are you thinking?” Blake asked him, making him realize that he’d probably been quiet for a bit too long.
“That you’re incredible,” he said. And he meant it.
“I’m definitely not,” she replied, and he thought he saw her cheeks blush a little.
“You definitely are,” he said again. He let out a deep breath before speaking again. “My parents kicked me out of the house when I refused to follow the path they laid out for me. I wanted to be a photographer, but that wasn’t good enough for them. And all this time, I felt like I’d gotten such a raw fucking deal. But here you are, dealing with way worse shit and being strong as hell about it. I pretty much feel like a huge pussy right now.”
Blake laughed softly, moving closer to him so she could reach up and touch the back of his neck. His blond curls were soft against her hand as she scratched his scalp lightly with her nails. “You’re not a huge pussy,” she assured him. And then, “You’re like a little one. Medium-sized at most,” she said with a smile.
He loved how she had a way of breaking the tension when he needed it, like she knew exactly what to say and when to say it to make him feel at ease. But he was the one who should be doing that for her, not the other way around. “I want you to know how much it means that you told me all that,” he said. “I promise I won’t say anything to anyone. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“I don’t. I trust you,” she said, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.
Like every other kiss between them, it had a way of leading to more, and in seconds they were tearing off each other’s clothing until there was nothing that came between them. Suddenly Gavin was aware of all of her—the thumping of her heart under his chest as they moved together, how perfectly he fit inside her, the smell of her hair as he breathed in her mint and citrus scent.
He worked his hands over her body wildly like he couldn’t get enough of her, and he realized it was because he couldn’t. This girl, this woman beneath him had a hold on him like no one he’d ever encountered before. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as his cock thrust inside her, silently begging her to find her release so he could too.
Every breath was a gasp, choppy and labored as he struggled to hold off. But he could sense how close she was by the flush on her neck and chest and the way her eyelids seemed to flutter open for a moment and then close tightly again. “Come on,” Gavin said. “I’m right there.” And he heard how strained his words sounded. His cock jerked with the need to come, but he slowed his hips a bit to last.
Now his drives were slower, more rhythmic, but no less pleasurable. Every push inside her felt like it could be the one to make him explode, and he gripped the base of his shaft for a few moments to stop himself before moving his fingers to Blake’s clit and massaging it.
“Blake, I can’t… God, you’re so fucking warm…and so wet. Christ,” he said, knowing if she didn’t come soon he’d have no choice but to stop moving until he could gain control of himself again. “I can’t wait much longer.”
With those words, he had Blake tumbling over the edge, her body pulsing around his as she told him to let go inside her. He didn’t even have time to process her words before his orgasm was there, his cock jerking against her slick walls until he’d emptied himself completely.
He wanted to stay here, wrapped in her warmth with the evidence of their encounter between them. But eventually he pulled out of her, allowing her to get up and head to the bathroom while he picked up his clothes to get dressed.
A few minutes later, Blake returned, wearing nothing but black lace panties and a tight T-shirt that came just above her underwear. When she sat next to him, he pulled her closer, running his hand along her arm as she snuggled into his chest. For a fleeting moment, it crossed his mind that he could stay like this forever, with Blake in his arms. But if he’d learned anything from their conversation, it was that nothing in her life was permanent. And that, unfortunately, included him.
Chapter Eighteen
As Blake stole another glance at Gavin, who’d been restocking the napkins, straws, and plastic utensils quietly for the past ten minutes or so, she wondered what was up with him. She couldn’t put her finger on whatever emotions he seemed to have swirling inside him, but there was something about how close they’d gotten since he’d moved in that let her know he wasn’t himself.
Whether it was sadness or anger or frustration, she wasn’t sure, and he hadn’t said much to her all morning to give her any indication of what exactly was wrong. She knew what it was like to deal with something internally, to want to be alone in her own head and hope that no one asked her what her problem was. Because false concern was always the worst kind. She knew from experience.
But her concern for Gavin was real—almost tangible—and it made it impossible for her to ignore the way his shoulders slumped as he filled the last of the napkin holders and leaned against the counter. He stared ahead blankly at the stainless-steel cooler where they kept the milk and cream. His mind was somewhere, but it wasn’t here. “You all right?” she asked, figuring it was the least invasive of the possible questions she could think of. She also figured that she’d wait to hear his response before deciding whether to press further.
Gavin jerked his head up like she’d startled him, which only confirmed that his thoughts were elsewhere. “Yeah, just thinking,” he answered. His tone was surprisingly light, and it made her wonder if he’d made a conscious choice to sound that way.
“It wasn’t about whether we should bang in Stu’s office while he’s at lunch, was it? Because the answer’s no. There’s no door, his desk and chair are gross, and I’m scared I’ll get splinters from the wood paneling on the wall.”
Thankfully, Gavin laughed. “Guess the floor’s out too then.”
“That goes without saying.”
&
nbsp; “Figured,” he said. “And to answer your question, no, I wasn’t thinking about having sex in Stu’s office…at least until you mentioned it.”
“Not gonna happen,” she said before hopping up to sit on the counter. “So what were you thinking about then?”
“My parents,” he said through a groan. “Sorry. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be complaining to you about this.”
She knew Gavin’s hesitance to discuss his relationship with his parents probably came from everything he’d learned about hers the other day, and she didn’t want him to feel like his problems weren’t important. “If you can’t complain to your roommate slash coworker slash lover about it, then who can you complain to?”
Gavin seemed to be studying her as if he were trying to figure out if the words were only words or if they were genuine. She hoped her expression told him she really did want to know what was happening. He was quiet a few more seconds before Blake noticed his shoulders sag a bit.
“My dad called the other day and said they’d be in the neighborhood next weekend, and they want to stop by. That’s code for ‘checking to make sure I’m not squatting in a crack den,’ or even worse in their eyes, working some menial job with no future in sight. I don’t feel like dealing with it.”
“Okay,” Blake said, dragging out the word. “I know our apartment isn’t a penthouse, but it’s not a crack den either.”
“It’s not that. I don’t care what they think of where I live anyway. But for some reason, I do still care what they think of me. They’re gonna ask a million questions about my life and where it’s headed, and none of my answers are ones they wanna hear.”
It crossed Blake’s mind to suggest that Gavin lie, but she figured if he hadn’t decided to do that already, there was probably a reason he was against it. Like he had a heart and a conscience. “It’s not like you’re living under a bridge swapping blowjobs for food stamps. You’re working hard, and you have a place to live. What more do they want?” It occurred to Blake that the answer was probably “a lot more,” but she let her question stand.
“I don’t know. But my current status definitely isn’t anything to brag about. Even I know that. Nothing’s changed since the last time I’ve seen them. Well, except that my old roommate used my rent money to get high, so I had to move, but I doubt that’ll impress them,” Gavin said dryly.
“What will?”
“Huh?” he asked.
“You said that your current situation won’t impress them, so what will?”
His eyebrows pressed together in thought, and then he shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like they expect me to suddenly have some hotshot career making six figures. But you know they hate the photography thing—”
“What do they hate about it exactly?” Blake hadn’t meant to cut him off, but she needed to know the answer. Gavin was quiet for a moment because a woman had come to the counter to place an order. Blake rung her up and told her her order would be up shortly. Then she turned back to Gavin, who was putting a bagel in the toaster.
“Pretty much everything,” he said. “The fact that it’s an art, that there aren’t many jobs that pay well, how subjective the field is. I think the main thing is that they know it’s tough to make a living at it.”
“Is it?” Blake had no idea.
“Yeah. Seems like it. Unless you work for a company, you’d be an independent contractor or have to start your own business. And that’s gotta take a while to get going.”
Blake nodded slowly. “Yeah. Probably. What do you ultimately want to do with it?”
“I don’t know… I always thought it’d be cool to have my work in a gallery or something to sell, but that’s a long way off. And that’s even more difficult to make money from. For now, I’d settle for doing some small photo shoots with families or working weddings or something.”
“Have you tried seeing what other opportunities there are? Even if you got a job here and there helping out another photographer, it would probably help with networking and getting your work out there for the public to see. It’s not much, but it might open some doors in the long run.”
“I haven’t looked in a few years. I got busy with the jobs I had and couldn’t really find the time to look for something better.”
“I bet if you were at least actively looking for something, they might support it more. It can’t hurt, at least. I mean, I know they’ll still think you’ll never make a good living from it, but you’ll prove them right if you never even try.” Gavin opened his mouth to speak, but Blake continued, “That sounded worse than how I meant it. I mean…I’m not saying you aren’t trying. The school picture place pays the bills, but I’m guessing anyone who knows how to work a camera can do that. Taking yearbook pictures of pimply teenagers named Kansas isn’t exactly showing off your creativity.”
Gavin’s laugh was enough of a confirmation that she was correct.
“Have you sent your portfolio out to other photographers who might need an assistant or tried putting up some ads online or anything? Maybe you could book a few private shoots?”
Gavin seemed to hesitate. “No. Um… I don’t exactly have a portfolio.”
Blake tried to temper her shock, but she felt her eyes widen anyway. This was a man with passion, but he didn’t seem to be making much of an effort to further his career.
“Well, I have one,” he said, probably sensing her surprise. “Or part of one. But it’s like six years old. No one’s gonna want to look at that. It doesn’t even show the caliber of what I’m capable of now.”
Blake smiled a slow and thoughtful grin that she hoped was as enigmatic as it felt. “Then let’s find out what you’re capable of.”
* * *
Gavin had never been someone who liked surprises. He wasn’t someone who wanted to show up to a place on his birthday and have everyone jump out from behind the furniture. He never took a test without knowing what to study. And he certainly didn’t want to go to his own photo shoot unprepared. But when Blake had suggested Gavin take some pictures to start getting a portfolio together prior to his parents’ visit, she’d been tight-lipped about what exactly he’d be photographing today, and he wasn’t sure why.
She’d told him she’d arrange a few opportunities for him to get some good shots in, and so far, she’d come through. She’d shared the ideas for the first two sessions as soon as she’d been able to secure the details. Somehow she’d managed to find a wedding for him to shoot. The fact that it was outdoors and had other photographers there only confirmed his suspicions that Blake and Gavin probably shouldn’t be there, but what he didn’t know for sure couldn’t hurt him.
Still, he figured the less that could be seen of people’s faces, the better. So he concentrated on taking some more artistic shots—flowers in the bride’s hand, the interlocked fingers of the bride and groom as they stood at the altar. He even got an adorable picture of the ring bearer pulling the one-year-old flower girl down the aisle in a red wagon. The fact that the photo was from behind didn’t stop Blake from warning him to be careful taking pictures of minors. He’d suggested they leave after that comment, and though he wanted to kill Blake for putting him in a situation that resulted in him having pictures of children without their parents’ consent, he couldn’t help but be appreciative of what she’d potentially risked to help him.
When she’d told him about the infant photo shoot she’d lined up a few days later, he’d been skeptical until she’d assured him the parents did in fact know her and did in fact invite Gavin to take pictures of their newborn for his portfolio as long as he promised to give them a CD that they could use to print their own pictures. It was more than a fair deal, and Gavin was grateful for their help.
But now he had no idea what Blake had in store, and it scared the hell out of him. “You thought it was no big deal to crash a wedding, but you won’t even tell me where we’re going this time? I feel like I should be worried.” He noticed her trying to bite back a grin. “
Correction. I am worried.”
“We’re not going anywhere.”
“So is someone coming here?” he asked, looking around at the cluttered apartment and thinking he should probably start cleaning it.
She shook her head.
“So then what am I photographing?”
This time she let herself smile. But it was small, and for the first time since he’d met Blake, she looked shy. “Me.”
“What? Really?” Blake didn’t strike him as someone who would want to pose for pictures. He didn’t think he’d ever even seen her take a selfie.
“Yes. Really.” Her voice was soft, slow as she seemed to glide toward the couch and lie on her side there. “I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.”
Gavin’s eyes were the only thing that moved as they darted around the room like the walls were going to tell him what the hell that comment meant. Finally his gaze settled back on her. “What does that mean?”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Haven’t you ever seen Titanic?”
“No.”
“And you’ve never wondered about those memes with that quote and weirdos posing in provocative positions?”
“The only weirdo I’ve seen posing in a provocative position lately is you.”
That earned him a pillow to the chest.
“Are you serious though?” he asked. “You don’t need to do that.”
Misadventures with My Roommate Page 13