Page 8 of Falling Faster
I take a long pull of the sweetened brew. "Sounds like the change you mentioned earlier."
With a sigh, Ty stops sketching. He lifts his coffee to his mouth. The condensation on the outside of the cup drips over his fingers. "A lot has changed for me, compared to how things were a few years ago. Switching to part time meant I had to downsize a lot and cut back on things. Make sacrifices, some easy, some not. This is the first vacation I've taken in three years. Instead of having my own place, I'm sharing a house with two roommates."
"Slater and Noah?"
Ty shakes his head, smiles, and resumes sketching. "With how often I'm over there, it seems like I'm living with them, but no. I wish. My roommates are two guys who work odd hours and aren't interested in being friends. One uses up all the hot water when taking showers, and the other plays musicat top volume and leaves stuff everywhere. Even so, I'm much happier than I used to be."
"Being happy is the most important thing." I lean back in my chair, watching my own likeness form on the page. Memories surface of my early days in LA. "I moved out here at eighteen with my three best friends, and money was so tight, we were scrounging for change, working whatever jobs we could around band practices and gigs. Bartender, bike messenger, you name it, I did it. All the sacrifices were worth it."
"Are your friends still here?"
"I wish. Only one out of the three. Cody's dad got sick early on and he went back home to help out. Devon followed two years later. Patrick, the last member of our group, is still here. He's a studio musician. We get together as often as we can. The last time the four of us were all together was back in Buffalo at Christmas. We recorded a few songs, had a great time doing it. Whenever we're all together, it's like no time has passed at all."
He bumps his knee against mine. "You sound a little wistful."
"I miss them, and how we all were together, but I guess we ended up where we were supposed to be." That's what I tell myself, but I wonder if it's true. Lately, I've been missing them more and more. Thinking about those early days and how much happier I was back then. Wishing they were still here. Maybe it's time for another trip back home.
Ty's pencil stills over the sketch and then he signs his name with a flourish and tears the page from the book. "Here."
I'm staring at myself, in shades of gray and white. It looks like me, but kinder maybe. And definitely happier. Is that how Ty sees me? "Wow. Can I keep it?"
The corners of Ty's lips lift into a smile. He looks up from sliding the supplies into his bag and nods. "Of course."
I tuck the paper under my sunglasses and keys so it won't blow away. A thrill skips through me when Ty's fingers brush along my hand. Not an accidental brush, but a deliberate, slow caress. Little strikes of lightning flare along my skin as the fingers flex and shift, exploring the back of my hand.
When they slip under to play against my palm and fingers, I tense, but Ty doesn't pause or recoil when he encounters the callouses on my fingertips, earned from years of playing guitar. The light touches raise more nerve endings in their wake. Aroused beyond anything I've dreamed from such soft contact, I suck in a breath, rotate my hand, and return the gentle grazes over Ty's talented fingers.
Lips parting, eyes heavy-lidded, expression full of yearning, Ty shifts closer. "Craig."
My pulse pounding with a steady beat of desire, I bend my head and close the distance, watching Ty's eyes darken, and breathe in the scent of coffee and the hint of mocha he added to his order. I pause, the scantest of spaces from Ty's mouth, savoring the anticipation. Every single thing about the man by my side is wonderful and surprising in the best possible way.
"Please." Ty's soft word puffs across my skin and spurs me into action.
I touch my lips to Ty's. Something shifts inside of me, like my heart is waking up. Maybe waking up for the first time. I can't remember ever having such a huge reaction to something as simple as the beginning of a kiss.
Our lips brush, then linger. Ty is soft and warm and sweet. I link our fingers together and deepen the kiss, tasting and teasing, my body humming for more. Sliding a hand into my hair and angling his head, he takes control. The slight biteof pain when he fists his hand stokes the flames of want and need. Slipping my tongue into Ty's mouth causes us both to groan. The licks and strokes of tentative exploration grow bolder.
Fighting to control the flame, I force myself to gentle the kiss, to remember that we're in broad daylight, in public, and that climbing onto the table with Ty to take things further isn't a smart idea. For that, I want privacy and zero distractions.
Ty releases the hold he has on my hair and drags his lips away with a sigh. Eyes closed, he keeps his head bent close to mine, like he needs a minute for his system to settle. I can relate because I do too. Too soon, he leans back. "That was nice."
More shaken than I'd expected, I draw in a breath.Hurricane Ty,as Slater had said. I'm not ready for our day to end. "Can I take you to dinner?"
"How about I takeyouto dinner?" Ty traces a circle over my palm with his thumb and unleashes a fresh wave of desire.
"We can wrestle for the check later." Joking, of course. I have no intention of letting Ty pay. But the idea of wrestling leads to thoughts of the two of us tangled together in a much more sensuous way.
As physically attracted as I am to Ty, the person beneath the handsome features and soulful eyes is just as intriguing and interesting and I want to know everything about him.
Sultry sounds play from the speakers. We sit tucked away at a tiny table under a neon sign in a dimly lit West Hollywood bar frequented by musicians. It's well past midnight and we've been here for hours, since we left the steakhouse. Onedrink turned into two, then three. We've traded stories and kisses. At Ty's prompting, I've shared a list of the songs I've written for other artists, and another of the bands I've been in. His promise to put together a playlist makes me smile.
Glass in hand, Ty gestures toward the empty stage at the back of the room. The movement sloshes the liquid close to the rim. "I can picture you on a stage, a guitar strapped across your chest, rocking out. I'm definitely looking up videos of you and your old bands when I get back to the hotel tonight."
"If you want a live version, I'm filling in for a friend at a show tomorrow night." Attempting to keep my voice casual, I trail my fingers over Ty's back. The soft material of his shirt moves as he leans into the touch. My hand meets the belt loop on the side of his jeans. I hook my finger through it and draw him more securely against my chest. "If you want to come."
Ty's hand traces a path up and down my side. His pupils are wide, leaving a thin ring of brown. Licking his lips, he drops his gaze to my mouth. Lingering for a long moment before returning it to my eyes. "Yeah? I'd get to see you in action?"
That questing hand journeys higher and a fingertip brushes over my nipple. Goosebumps dot my skin. I swallow the rest of my drink and set the glass on the table with a clink. My last sentence to Ty came out more like a question, filled with all the hope swirling in my system. Hopefully, the next words will carry more confidence. "You can bring Slater and Noah. I'll put your names on the list."
