Page 50 of Paparazzi

I let him in and, when I close the door and turn around, find him looking at me as if the vision has somehow destabilized him. I realize I’m only wearing a short bathrobe and I feel embarrassed, remembering what it feels like to have his hands and lips on me. The thought makes some of my anger fade, giving way to the desire to undress him and taste every inch of that perfect body.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to change,” I say, collecting something in my closet and taking refuge in the bathroom.

I breathe deeply and look in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks and a smile on my lips. I slip into a comfortable pair of sweat pants, then look at the t-shirt I grabbed and realize I can’t wear a bra, as it is white, see-through and hangs too low under my arms.

“Damn,” I hiss between my teeth, realizing I haven’t been wearing one for days because I can’t fasten it. Still, I grab it from the bathroom shelf and put my arms through, but when I try and fasten it, a tearful pain almost makes me burst into tears. I take deep breaths until the pain returns to a reasonable level. Then I hold the bra with one hand and cover my breasts, even though he’s already seen them on several occasions. But this time I’m angry with him and I want him to stay focused on my pissed-off mood, not my nipples. I slowly open the door and find him playing with Dexter, sitting on the edge of the bed. I’m increasingly sure that my cat gets replaced by a more friendly version of himself whenever that guy walks in through the door. There’s no other explanation.

“Thomas?” I call in a hoarse voice.

He raises his head and wrinkles crease his perplexed forehead.

“Could you help me out? I still have a hard time fastening it,” I say, embarrassed and pointing to my bra.

Thomas seems a little dumbfounded, then gets up from the bed, pissing off my cat, who tries to grab his hand, and approaches slowly. I turn around and give him my back, feeling his fingers move my hair aside, touching my skin, making me shudder. His gestures are slow, almost like he’s paralyzed at the idea of touching me, as he grabs the bra straps and calmly joins them, barely grazing me. He gently rests his hands on my back once finished, then he slips a finger under my right shoulder strap and sets it right, sliding along the fabric, touching my shoulder with his knuckle, leaving a glowing trail on my skin. I don’t see him, but I can feel his breath quickening on my neck, raising the hair there with shivers of pleasure. My heart bounces in my chest, pounding furiously, and all of a sudden, I realize I’m holding my breath.

“It’s okay,” he whispers near my ear in a hoarse voice.

His mouth is so close I raise my head, my gaze with his, losing myself in his big blue eyes that, at this moment, look like a stormy sea. Memories of last night, when we made love, come back to mind. The delicacy with which he took care of me, the attention he paid to my bruises, pleasuring me so sweetly, every gesture infused with affection. It wasn’t just about sex. It was about feelings.

“Thank you,” I whisper in a faint voice and walk one step toward the bathroom at the same time he steps back.

When I close the door behind me, my legs almost give way, making me slide to the floor. I breathe deeply, trying to get my temperature back to normal and my heart rate to a decent pace. I find it a little difficult to slip on my shirt but, when I finally succeed, I have become more or less presentable. I grab the handle and walk out confident, smiling when I see Thomas snuggled up to my cat, who is licking his cheek.

“It’s not what you think,” he says thoughtfully, making me smile.

“Yes, of course, that’s what they all say.”

“I swear he came here and snuggled. I tried to resist him, but he’s really too insistent. Basically, I’m a man with a weak heart and will.”

I burst out laughing and approach the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee?” I ask, sipping mine and nibbling at the cupcake.

“Yes, thank you.”

I notice him coming up behind me as I fill the machine with water.

“Look...forgive me for the way I behaved earlier at the clinic. Believe me, I didn’t mean to offend you in any way or put pressure on you. I just wanted to help, but I realize now I was wrong,” he admits in a miserable voice, which almost makes me feel tender toward him.

I turn to find him looking down at his toes.

“Did you understand it for yourself, or did your friends have to explain it to you?” I tease him good-naturedly, keeping my voice and my expression light.

Thomas bursts into embarrassed laughter, scratching behind his neck and wreaking havoc on the dark curls that are usually unkempt with meticulous care.

“Okay, they explained it to me because I couldn’t figure it out by myself. I swear I wanted to help you, and I didn’t understand until Lilly practically made me a drawing to get it into my head.”

That makes me laugh out loud, and suddenly, all the anger I had toward him evaporates. I have to admit, I like this side of Thomas, the one who knows how to apologize.

“I appreciate your sincerity.” I smile at him, giving him a cup of coffee.

“I just want to help you. I know what it’s like to have trouble getting to the end of the month... my mother used to eat half her portion of dinner to give my sister and me a decent meal. Now, I have so much money I could never spend it in a lifetime, so it’s no trouble helping people. After all, it’s just money. I have enough to live my whole life without struggling, and a safe retirement fund. What do I need with all this extra money?”

It’s disarming how he can worry so genuinely and without a trace of selfishness about my life. Money is a bit of a touchy subject for me. I don’t like to talk about it, or what I have to do to get to the end of the week without starving. I still get angry because I couldn’t go to college, even though I managed to get into New York University and Columbia. Money is a topic I don’t want to address, especially with someone who’s interested in me.

“Do you have a sister?” I ask incredulously, realizing that I know practically nothing about this man, apart from the fact that he is one of the most famous drummers in the world. In fact, there is an air of mystery around all the band members that no one has ever managed to dispel.

Thomas bursts out laughing, but I can see he’s nervous. “Is that the only detail you picked up in all this talk?”

“No, but that’s what stood out. Not much is known about you and your private life.”

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