Page 6 of Falling Faster
"Change is good. I mean, not always, of course, but it canbe. And if you're feeling it inhere," voice growing earnest, he lays his hand over his heart, "then you should do it."
His passionate statement hangs in the air. He obviously speaks from experience. I long to touch him, to soothe any roughened places that might still be tender. "Sounds like there's a story there. One I want to hear, but let's wait until we're out of the sweltering heat, and able to be face to face without any barriers between us."
In the corner of my vision, Ty shifts, angling his body in my direction. "What do you do when you're not in a mask and cape?"
Not quite ready to talk about my other career, I turned the car's fan up two notches. "I'm a musician. But the mask and cape gig is my favorite role. I love the way the kids and even their parents light up, excited and happy. It's an escape from the difficult situations they're going through, and being a part of that is really special."
Ty's eyes sparkle and his smile is like sunshine on a cloudy day. My breath catches at how brilliantly he shines. "That's how I feel about the world of comic books. Finding friendships in the fandom, being able to lose yourself within the colorful pages of a story, and characters that people identify with and see in themselves. That's what I want to draw and create and bring to other people."
"I didn't get to see much of the inside of your sketchbook, but I love the reason you want to create things." I pull into the foundation's parking lot. "We're here."
After parking in the private garage, I lead the way indoors. Ty and I take a quick tour of our floor, the bland cubicles and conference rooms brightened by large, colorful posters, then I leave him in the waiting room and head to the locker room so I can change out of the costume. Usually, I'm a little bummed when I have to slip out of asuperhero suit, but today, I'm eager to shed it so I can get back to Ty.
Dressed in my regular clothes, I pause by the full length mirror and examine my reflection. Without the mask and cape, will Ty find me lacking, or will he like what he sees?
Nerves spill through me, not unlike the rush I get before every gig. Blowing out a breath, I rake a hand through my hair and then turn away from the mirror. Making my way through the hallways back to Ty, the urge to shove my hands in my pockets or play with the leather strap that encircles my wrist is strong, but I resist and force a facade of calm confidence.
Ty stands when I enter the room. His attention flies to my face and lingers, sparking a jolt to my system when our gazes collide, before journeying to my T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, then up again. He saunters closer, smiling, and closes the distance between us. "I like your tattoo."
The nerves settle to a steady hum of anticipation. I glance at my left forearm. The tattoo of a rose and thorns interwoven with music notes wraps around my skin from my wrist to my elbow. I hold still as Ty traces a finger along the stem. The touch is like tiny sparks of electricity, a live wire that increases in intensity when Ty's chocolate gaze meets mine once again. I lick my dry lips. "I got it when I was eighteen. Creating music is beautiful, but it can be painful too."
Light comes into Ty's eyes and his fingers pause on my skin. "You said you were a musician. What do you play?"
"Guitar, piano, and the drums."
"So, what kind of musician are you? Are you in a band, a solo artist, or something else?"
My immediate thought is of Cody, Patrick, and Devon, my original bandmates and best friends. "I've been in several bands. Right now, I'm mainly a songwriter for other artists,but I play the occasional gig in friends' bands and I still create music with my original band. I moved out here with them, with dreams of being a rock star."
Ty trails his fingers back and forth along the sensitive line of skin. He is close enough for me to see the lighter shade of caramel in his eyes and to smell the fresh scent of his shampoo. Imagining that delicate, teasing touch on other parts of my body is too easy and too tempting. "I'm impressed. A superheroanda rock star. This is my lucky day."
The urge to touch Ty is too strong to ignore. I curl my fingers around the man's warm hand, locking us together. "I feel like the lucky one."
Ty's lips parted. He sucks in a breath and drops his focus to our hands, then takes a slow journey back to my face. "You don't know anything about me yet."
"Not true." I lift my free hand so I can tick off each thing I've learned on my fingers. "I know you were nice enough to stick around and help clean up the display table. And you're a good friend because you made sure your buddy wouldn't miss out on something that obviously meant a lot to him. When we were taking that lap around the parking lot, Slater also told me that you're helping him bring his comic book idea to life. And I know you're an artist from Buffalo. That's a good start."
Laughing, Ty nods. "All right." Then his gaze tracks to my other tattoo, peeking from beneath the shirtsleeve on my right bicep. "Can I look?"
I inwardly cringe, but raise my sleeve to reveal the smiling purple narwhal wearing a blue and yellow striped necktie.
Ty's brows shoot up, then narrow as he studies the ink. "Whoa. That's… not atallwhat I was expecting."
"Me either, when I woke up and found it on my arm."With a grimace, I elaborate, "I got it after a show, years ago, on my first tour. I was drunk, wasted to the point that I don't remember anything after stumbling through the tattoo parlor's doors with my band. But I guess I asked for this, or one of the other guys talked me into it. No one could remember how it went down. They were all in the same state as me. And we all ended up with tats."
"The tattoo parlor shouldn't have given you anything when you were in that condition." The quiet words accompany a light flexing of his fingers under our joined hands.
"I agree. I don't like the tattoo and occasionally think about getting it removed or covered. For years while I toured, it was an effective reminder to never let myself get in that state again." Worry over what Ty is thinking rushes my words. "Not that I'm in that same place anymore. I'm not. That was all youth and stupidity and trying too hard to live up to an image. That night was the last time I let myself get in that condition. The tattoo was a wake up call I needed. I might make mistakes, but I try my best not to make them twice."
With a gentle smile, Ty strokes the narwhal's horn. "I think it's cute."
"I guess I can live with cute." Happiness warms through me like the sun's rays, bright and beaming as we smile at each other. Craving the feeling of that tempting mouth against my lips, I step the smallest bit closer, intent on eliminating the distance between us.
Ty raises his face, watching me, eyes heavy-lidded with desire. Then, in a blink, surprise skips over his features. His free hand latches on to my forearm and those long fingers curl into my skin. "Band? On tour? Wasted? You reallyarea rock star, aren't you?"
Discomfort at the label rolls through me. I shake my head. "Not the star part so much. As I said, I've been in several bands. Some of them have had success. Others, not so much. But these days, I really am more of a songwriter. I play some shows here and there, and I still create music with my original bandmates, but I haven't lived the life of a touring musician in a few years."
"That's… wow. I don't know what to say. You're probably one of the most interesting people I've ever met." Ty releases his hold and steps back so we're no longer touching, but not so far that I couldn't reach out and hold him. He fidgets with the strap on his bag and his teeth sink into his lower lip. "My life is boring compared to yours."
