Like he’s seeing me.
I wonder what he sees. A woman who is confident in her own skin? Or a woman who has devalued herself by taking off her clothes for other men? That’s my fear, the one that wiggles a little deeper into my gray matter every time I step onto that stage. What kind of guy would want a woman who strips for a living? Someone who shows off their body to anyone with a dollar to wave.
Sometimes, I don’t even like myself, so how can he like me?
Ransom strips off his clothes, dropping them on the floor where they join mine, and we are both standing naked before one another. His body is one that makes every muscle inside of me clench. One look and I burn for his touch. I shiver when he circles his arms around me and guides us to the bed. I stretch out beneath him, and as I look into his eyes I catch a glimpse of something that gives me pause.
For the briefest moment, it makes sense. It’s not what he sees in me that keeps him coming back. It’s what I see in him. He looks at me with wonderment. With a vulnerability that suggests being with me gives him something he needs.
Suddenly, I don’t see the same man who throws me against doors and drives into me with little care beyond his own desires. I see a man who needs to be cared for. A man who just might be as lost as I have been since the day I lost my mother. Without a second thought, I open my arms to that man and accept him inside of me, and together we lose ourselves in the temporary pleasure of each other’s body.
EIGHTEEN
Annie’s driving me crazy. I can’t escape the guilt of walking away from her. I’m sitting in the back of the room of Art Comp, trying to concentrate on taking notes, but it’s impossible when she keeps finding any excuse she can to look back at me.
After she had texted me a dozen times last week, I broke down and told Ransom what happened. He thinks I need to get over it and apologize. I know he’s right. I know I’m being petty, but this feels like a betrayal. Annie’s my only real friend and while I always knew our lives would lead us down different paths after college, I always thought we’d remain close.
I never thought our lives would end up thousands of miles apart.
I’m not stupid. I know once she’s gone, we’ll never see each other again. All the promises in the world won’t make a difference once she’s out in California starting the next chapter of her life. She’s going to be a mother—I still can’t wrap my head around that one—which leaves no room for me. At best, we might exchange an occasional email or phone call, but it won’t be the same. We won’t be the same.
I’m wasting time being angry with her, but I don’t know how else to deal with everything I’m feeling inside of me. So, for now, I’m keeping my distance.
When class lets out, I gather my books and hope that I’ll get lost in the wave of students leaving the room, but Annie is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs when I get there. I’m not ready to talk to her yet.
As I reach the last step, an uncertain smile grows on her face, and a low hum starts up inside my head. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Annie wears her emotions on her sleeve, so it’s not hard to tell that she is hurt by my behavior. Still, as much as I want to reach out and pull her in for a hug and assure her it’s going to be fine, I don’t. The excuse falls from my lips before I know it’s coming.
“I can’t. I have to talk with Professor Scott about the final project.”
Her eyes are locked with mine, searching, and I know she can tell I’m lying, but she lets it slide. “Okay, well, maybe we can catch up later then.”
I smile tightly, because we both know it’s unlikely. But it’s nice to pretend. “Sure.”
Annie doesn’t leave right away, making it impossible to keep up my ruse. If I linger, the lie will be exposed. Maybe that’s what’s she’s going for. Maybe she’s trying to beat me at my own game. I catch her giving me a sidelong look as she stacks her papers neatly into her backpack, and that’s all the confirmation I need. The little devil is cleverer than I thought.
Realizing I have to follow through with my bogus excuse, I slowly walk toward Ransom’s desk, where he is seated, his head down, as he quietly flips through an overlarge art book.
I clear my throat to get him to notice me, and when he lifts his head, his smile is bright. Too bright. I dart my eyes over my shoulder and he follows the movement, seeing Annie. His smile instantly turns professional.
“What can I do for you, Miss Hart?”
I hadn’t intended to tell him. My plan was to wait until the last possible moment and then slap my name at the bottom of the project list, but Annie has put me in a tight position and I can’t think of anything else right now.