VAIN - Part Three (The VAIN Series Book 3) (5 page)

"He's here? He's in New York?" Kayla bounces across the kitchen floor towards me. I almost feel the need to duck under the table for cover.

"Yes," I answer trying not to sound as annoyed as I do. "Beck is here."

"Are you going to see him?"

"No," I spit back a little too harshly. "I don't want to. I doubt that he wants to see me."

"I think you should see him." She pours a healthy dose of milk into her coffee. "I think you should give him a piece of your mind for the way he fucked up everything with Noah."

I roll my eyes, before reaching to pop two pieces of grain bread into the toaster. "You haven't listened to anything I've told you." I'm frustrated. She has to know that. We've sat here for the past twenty minutes while I rambled on incessantly about how Noah was in New York. The quiet mention of Brighton was only to move the story along. I didn't know she'd focus on it, and it, alone.

"I have so." She stomps her foot like a contemptuous two-year old child. "You said that Noah came to New York to see you and that Brighton is here too."

"I won't see Beck," I'm saying it as much for my own benefit, as hers. "I can't open that door again. I have nothing left to say to him."

She sips at her coffee. "He hasn't tried to contact you, Lex. Maybe he's not here to see you."

"You're right." I feel an instant weight drift off my shoulders. If Brighton wanted to see me, he would have found me by now.

"What about Noah?" She points to the toaster. "What happened with you two?"

I reach for the toasted bread, handing one slice to her. "Do you want jam or anything?"

"Nothing," she says as she munches on the very dry corner. "Tell me about Noah."

"He mostly wanted to talk." I don't look her in the eye. I focus instead on pushing my toast to the corner of my plate. "He wanted to talk about Brighton." I conveniently leave out the part where Noah said he loves me.

""What's with that?" She takes another sip from the mug. "He talks about Brighton more than you do."

I've had the same thought but my mind has tried to bury it in its dark recesses, just as I did with the sight of Camilla wrapped in a bed sheet. "I wanted to talk about other things."

"Why didn't you?"

It's a valid question. After Noah and I had played twenty question of Brighton Beck, he'd gone down to the street with me to hail me a cab home. I had wanted to stay to wrap myself around him for the night but he said it was late and he wanted time to rest. It was a brush off that still stung now, eight hours later.  "He was tired." It sounds even lamer coming out of my mouth than it did when it was just drifting around in my mind.

"You haven't seen each other in months and he sends you home?" She shakes her head as she chuckles softly. "What's with that dude, Lex? Seriously, what's his deal?"

I take a smile bite of toast to avoid having to answer that somewhat rhetorical question. I have no idea what his deal is but I need to find out before my heart starts reinvesting itself in him.

***

"I might get a permanent placement at a school in Queens next fall." I tuck my legs under me as I watch Noah move seamlessly across the room.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to drink?" He tips the open bottle of beer in his hand in my direction. "I can make you something warm." The suggestion is misplaced considering he's nude from the waist up. This is now the second time I've arrived at this apartment to find him wearing pants. This time it's jeans.

"Is this a short term rental?" It's a question I've had perched at the edge of my lips since I realized he was in New York. The apartment is large and beautifully decorated.

"It's mine," he says it with ease. "It's my father's actually but he's in China right now."

I survey the details of the space more closely, soaking in the rich details of the ornate furniture, the beautifully woven rugs on the floors and the artwork that hangs proudly on display. "Are you staying in New York long?"

He puts the bottle of beer on the coffee table before he sits down next to me. "I'll stay here as long as you do."

The words hit me with the full force of a speeding freight train. My hand jumps to my chest to level my breathing. "You're staying in New York?"

"I'm not going back to Boston." It's a twisted answer to a simple question. "Why would I go back there now? If you've got a job lined up, I'm here to stay."

Any lingering doubts I may have had about Camilla have been quashed like a tiny mouse racing across the path of a cat. "You work in Boston."

"I can't work." He doesn't show an ounce of emotion as the words leave his lips. "I don’t want to take nude photographs anymore."

"What?" That's his thing. It's what he does. I can't level my breathing enough to disguise the pure joy that I feel knowing that he's not bouncing naked on a bed with a nude blonde call girl in his lens finder anymore. "What will you do?"

"I'll take pictures of you." He nods his head towards my
body, which is still fully clothed. "I could take pictures of you forever, Alexa."

I blush at the reminder of the row of photographs he has lining the wall of his office back in Boston. "You can't make a living taking pictures of me."

"I'll live on sandwiches for the rest of my life then. They're cheap."

I giggle at the notion, knowing that sandwiches are his least favorite thing. "You're charming, Noah Foster."

He shakes his head slightly as his right brow rises slowly. "I'm honest, Alexa Jackson."

I love the way my name sounds as he pulls it from deep within him. The deep growl of his voice instantly touches my core. "We need to talk, Noah." I know that he's relaxed, happy and open and that's likely to change immediately once I bring up what happened the last time we saw each other in Boston.

"I know." He hangs his head down, his gaze falling to his knees. "I know we do."

"The way you dumped me was brutal, Noah." I stretch my legs out and cross them. "It hurt so much."

"I was so fucked up that day." He pulls his right hand into a heavy fist. "I saw Brighton that morning and then Camilla and Abe showed up."

That's the opening I've been looking for. It's obvious, just from Noah's presence in New York, that there isn't an ongoing relationship between him and Camilla. I've sensed that all along. I took him at his word when he said that he was sending her to a hotel. "Have you seen Camilla?" It's vague but that's my intention. I want to know how invested in their lives he is. After seeing him and her in the same room almost naked together, my heart is still reeling. My mind's been convincing itself that there's nothing going on, but I need more reassurance. I need Noah to tell me directly and unequivocally that it's over for good.

"I sent the three of them away in a taxi after you left." He brushes his hand over my thigh. "I haven't seen Camilla or Abe since."

I'm relieved. I'm certain my expression shows it. That's one hurdle that I don't have to emotionally climb over anymore.

"She's back with her husband," he says with a small grin. "He's a glutton for punishment. I'm glad for Abe though."

"The baby was beautiful." It's a small offering but it's coming from an honest place. I'd thought about that baby more and more since Sadie had shared the news about her own pregnancy. Abe was an innocent participant in Camilla's manipulations. Even so, there was no mistaking the obvious love in her eyes when she was staring at him in that bedroom.

"He's a prince." His eyes study my face. "Tell me what to do to make this right, Alexa."

I pull my hands across my forehead, pushing the hair back from my face. "I've never really understood why you dumped me." I stop and think carefully before continuing, "I know it was overwhelming when we left the apartment. It's just that…that…"I stammer as I search for the right words. "It's just that you didn't want to listen to me at all. You just threw me out and then ignored me for weeks."

I see the pain ride over his expression as I throw the words at him. "You're right," he winces. "I was such a fucking asshole to you."

"I left Boston because I needed to get away from you." It's meant to hurt him. It's also true. A big part of the reason I left home was to escape all the memories of Noah that were clouding my mind. I also wanted to focus on my career and when the substitute teacher position came up it was a sign that my time in Boston was done.

"When I was stabbed," he takes a deep breath, holding his hand to his bare abdomen. The shiver that accompanies it races through him. "I was afraid to look in the mirror for weeks."

Although he's shared disjointed details of that night, he's never confided in me about how he felt. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been."

"When I finally did, I was disgusted by the way I looked." His hand jumps to the scar, his fingers tracing along it almost effortlessly. Anyone watching the motion would know that he's done it time and time again. He knows the landscape of his scarred face better than anyone. He's lived with it for years now. It's a constant reminder of the risk he took in loving Camilla. It's part of him now. It's unwanted, that's always been clear.

I want to reach out and touch him and tell him that I think it's beautiful. I want to reassure him that it's part of what drew me to him in the first place. I don't move. I can't break the rush of emotion that is pouring out of him. I won't. I need him to be open and vulnerable with me. This is how we move forward together.

"I used to be handsome." There's no disguising the disappointment woven into the words. "I used to walk in rooms and people would turn to look at me."

"I understand." The offering is small but it's filled with truth. I do understand. I understand that he sees only a marred face when he catches a glimpse of himself.

He reaches to cup my hand in his. "Now when I walk into a room, people stare at me for another reason."

I trace the lines of his palm with my index finger. I can hear the pain seeping out of him. I can see it in how he's holding his frame. His back is pushed back into the couch, his shoulders tense and unyielding. "You're so beautiful, Noah," I whisper it, not wanting to discount anything he's feeling. He doesn’t see what I see when I look at him. I'm doubtful anyone does.

"When I look at you." His finger catches my jaw and pulls my chin up so my eyes are aligned with his. "I see myself differently."

I stare at the scar, not caring that I'm being obvious or blatant. It's beautiful. It transverses the entire length of his face, but it's a part of the foundation of who he is to me. "When I first saw you," I sigh as I tap my index finger into his palm. "That day when I first came to your apartment I thought you were so gorgeous."

"You were staring at my dick." He raises his brow. "Don't even deny it."

"I was." My gaze darts over his body. "Then you pointed out the scar to me and it just made you that much more beautiful."

"How can it beautiful?" He's not throwing the words at me in anger or distaste. There's genuine curiosity there. He wants to understand what I see when I look at him.

I pull my hand from his to cup his cheek, covering the scar. "It's not about how it changes your face to me, Noah." My thumb moves across his bottom lip. "I didn't know you without it. You wouldn't be the same Noah Foster to me if you didn't have it."

"You're not ashamed of it?" he asks in barely more than a whisper. "You wouldn't be embarrassed to go out with me in the light of day where people can see it?"

"I will go anywhere with you at any moment." I pull his lips apart lightly with the pressure of my thumb. "I'm proud to be with you."

"I'm scared." I watch his lips as the words spill out. "I'm scared to be out there."

"I know." I pull his hands to the side as I crawl into his lap. "I'll take care of you, Noah. I'll take care of you."

"We haven't made love since that first night." He reaches over to help me button my jacket closed. "You know that I want to."

I smile at the admission. "I know." I also know that he hasn't pushed me back into his bed because he understands that I'd resist. I was overwhelmed with desire the first night that I saw him in New York, but now that's tempered. I want more understanding before I share myself in any way. He can feel that. I see it in the tender way he touches me and kisses me.

"I'm not fucking this up again." He bows to run his lips across my cheek. "You're going to help me love you the right way."

The word leaps out from all the others with the grace of a freight train. It hits me full force and I take a step back. "We're going to help each other," I correct. "I'll help you learn to venture outside these walls and you'll help me understand your fascination with women who look just like me."

He stands back up, pulling his entire frame into a straight line. He's so tall. I have to bend my neck to look into his eyes. "I know that you think you look like Camilla…"

"I know that we look very much alike," I interrupt. It's still an ongoing issue with me. The moment I saw her it was as though a veil of confusion was lifted. "Every call girl you've ever requested is a blonde, right?"

"No." He grabs my shoulders. "It's never been about that, Alexa."

"About what?" I ask.

He takes a heavy step closer so there's little more than a hair's breadth of distance between us. He wraps his hands around me, pulling my cheek into his bare chest. "I wasn't looking for someone like Camilla when you walked in."

I rest my hands around his waist, circling my index fingers through the belt buckles. "You asked me to stay because I looked like her, Noah. I know that."

"Yes," he admits in a quiet whisper. "I did want you to stay initially because you looked like her."

I sigh before dropping my hands from him. I pull them into a tight fist on my chest, widening the distance between us. "I knew it."

"Alexa." His tone is firm and sharp. "Many women look alike. They may have the same hair color. The contours of their eyes resemble someone else's. I can see similarities in one woman's brow next to another…" His lips run over my hair. "There is no woman on earth who looks like you to me."

I know that he means the words and that they're coming from his heart. I also know that he sees me in a much different light than Camilla. "When I look at her, I see me."

He tugs my shoulders back and bows his head down so we're staring directly at one another. "You're so much more beautiful than her. Your heart is pure and kind."

"That may be true," I say it with the hope that it is. I've tried very hard the past few months to be a kinder, more caring person. I've tried to use my time in Paris as a compass to guide me towards a life that isn't just about me. I've tried. I can't say that I've succeeded yet. I still can't deny that we look very similar. "Camilla called it that afternoon when she said we could be twins."

"I can tell you this, Alexa." His index finger skims over my chin. "I never think of her when I look at you."

The words are meant to comfort me but they only aggravate that part of me that sees Camilla's face when I look in the mirror. "I don't know how to believe that Noah." I don't. I want to believe it. I have to believe it if we're ever going to move forward into a place where I feel I can truly tell him I love him.

"That afternoon when Ari brought Camilla and Abe over, it threw me into a tailspin." He closes his eyes briefly, the long lashes skimming against his skin. "Brighton had just left and he'd shown me all those pictures of you. You were so happy in all of them. Your smile was wide and your face lit up."

I nod. I can't deny what he's saying. Those days with Brighton in Paris were happy. I was enjoying myself until I realized he was an asshole who was cheating on his girlfriend behind her back.

"When I looked at Camilla holding Abe, I saw you." He stares at me, his eyes locked fiercely on mine. "It wasn't because you two have the same cheekbone structure, or because your eyes are the same color."

"What then?"

He lowers his head until his forehead is touching mine. "It was because I saw a woman with a child. I saw the tenderness between a mother and a newborn and I knew then that if you and I ever had a child, you'd lose that smile. I knew that you'd carry the burden of taking our son or daughter into the world because I couldn't."

He's just jumped years into the future within a single breath. My heart and mind can't catch up. "You thought about us having a baby?"

"When I saw Camilla that day, I felt absolutely nothing for her. Nothing." He enunciates the word, clearly saying it to alleviate any lingering doubt I may still have. "I felt everything for you. I saw a glimpse into what our future could be and I panicked."

I stare at him, unsure if he's telling me that he sincerely ended things because he was already fast forwarding our connection to a place where we were building a life together or if is simply trying to appease all the guilt that I see skirting beneath his eyes every time I look at him.  "You were so cold to me that day. You pushed me out when I first got there."

"I told you I was an asshole." His mouth thins into a straight line. "I wanted you to go so you could find a life that was normal. A guy that wasn't as fucked up as me."

"You know that I want you…" my voice stalls as I run my hands the length of his chest, circling the tattoos. "I've never stopped wanting you."