Page 35 of The Photo
I have a confession.
I don’t drink alcohol—that often.
I don't indulge in drugs—not anymore.
I don’t binge takeout food—except pizza, it’s wholly unjust to quit pizza.
I don’t smoke cigarettes—never wanted to either.
But I’m one hundred percent under the influence of a woman who rocked my world so hard it’s ground to a standstill now that she’s gone.
The second Rowan left my apartment, I knew I had to figure out a way to make her mine. I’m still guiding my blind heart to a solution, even though we’ve been physically apart for weeks now.
A man can’t live off hand jobs and flirty video calls. He needs contact, taste, touch and control. Fuck. I’m still in disbelief that I had to coax her into this weird set up. She walked out of my apartment without looking back. That sweet ass of hers mocked me with its slow sway out the door. I knew she was into me. I could tell by the way her skin reacted to the lightest touch and how responsive she was to my tongue. So, the way she just left really stung.
We’ve talked briefly about the future. She’s finishing college to become a professional photographer, and I have a busy schedule planned out for the next twelve months. What happens once she’s graduated isn’t certain? If we can master this no touching game until then, perhaps she’ll come back here for a while—or I’ll go to Ireland.
I didn't think this through when my heart decided to beat for her.
“You’re quiet?” Alexa flicks through the glossy fashion magazine. “Ah ha! There you are.” She sets it on the glass table and pushes down on the spine of the double page spread. “Looking good, pretty boy.”
I glance over. “The woman who wrote that article was a pain in the ass. From the get-go she had a chip on her shoulder because I didn’t want to be fuck buddies.” I kick back on the couch and check my phone. The wallpaper photo is Rowan, natural and happy with those striking greens directed right at the camera like she’s waiting for me to kiss her again.
This particular image is my favorite photo of all time, better than any professional model pose or any magazine cover shot. It’s Rowan Hudson moments after I made her mine.
Those pale cheeks of hers are flushed to a sexy shade of ‘just fucked’ pink. It still makes me smile every damn time, and my dick swells for her attention. I crave her hands all over me, her mouth, her heat. I could go in-fucking-sane waiting for the day I come face to face with her again, and believe me, I’ll come hard.
“Chip on her shoulder, try a boulder.” Alexa sits tall. “Oh, Noah.”
“What?” I’ve no idea why her tone drops.
“She’s quoted you as saying, ‘I’ll never settle—women constantly throw themselves at me—I love the chase, but commitment will never be possible with so much temptation. I take advantage of every offer, because I can’.” Her eyes cut to mine, wide and uncertain. “OMIGOD, Noah, she’s made you sound like a total douche bag. What a bitch.”
I scoot forward and snatch the pages away. There I am, centerfold, bare chested with just a pair of unfastened loose jeans and an article about the playboy rogue, Noah Adams. “I swear to fuck. If Rowan see’s this shit, she’ll think I’m playing a game.” Anger rips through me. “Can we get this retracted or just get the whole thing scrapped?” My fingers curl around the pages, crumpling the lies.
She’s twisted everything I said. It’s not my problem I wasn’t attracted to her. She took the knock back like a slap to the face.
Alexa rests her palm on my forearm. “It’s out there now, Noah,” she says softly. “If Rowan knows you, like you say she does, she’ll realize the article was written by a bitter, twisted dragon.” Alexa sits back, shakes out her jacket and ruffles her bluntly cut hair. “Leave it with me. I won’t have bullshit printed about you, even if they paid well.”
“I’m calling Rowan,” I tell her. “See yourself out.”
There are highways, mountains and the mother of all oceans separating me from the one person I long for right now. I thought finding someone to share my life with would set me free, but I’m trapped miles apart and no way of reaching her.
I tap open the video chat app, treading the bedroom floor. My patience is like thin thread ready to snap when she doesn’t answer, and the call cuts off. The frustrated growl startles Ralph, who’s curled in a ball at the bottom of my bed. His ears twitch when his face lifts to check for my well-being. “Sorry, buddy. Go back to sleep.”
She’ll answer eventually, if I keep calling. Jeez, I’m losing my mind. The jitters inside my chest are demented. I underestimated how difficult a long-distance affair would be. More accurately, I underrated how easily I could welcome her into my normal.
At last, her face appears with coppery, soaked hair and flawless ivory cheeks. I blow a puff of air.
“Noah!” Her beautiful face lights me up from the inside, and I grin back at her. I’m besotted.
“Hey.” I sit on the bed. “You’re all wet.”
She giggles. “I was in the shower, alone, unfortunately. It was a long day. I lost my lens cap, and then the battery flunked. I forgot to charge it last night because we were otherwise occupied.” Her full lips stretch to a gorgeous grin.
“I remember.” My dick remembers too. It’s already awake with the sight of her wrapped in a towel, but now it’s pulsating.
Rowan squares up to the camera. “Oh, I have a bone to pick with you, mister.”
