Vain - Part Two (The Vain Series Book 2) (7 page)

"Alexa, you're home." Cory races across the room to wrap his arms around my legs. "We waited forever for you."

"I was gone ten minutes, sweet stuff." I pat him on the top of his head. "I brought you a bagel."

"With cream cheese?" He reaches for the plain paper bag containing the breakfast I bought for Noah and I.

"You bet." I hand it carefully to him, trying desperately not to spill the hot coffee. "The other one is for my friend."

"For Noah?" Cory's dazzling smile melts my heart. "He's like Sadie."

"He likes Sadie," I repeat back. "Sadie is a sweetheart."

"No," Cory laughs with the abandon any four-year-old would have. "No, Daddy likes Sadie. Noah is like Sadie."

I hand one coffee to Noah before I kneel down and stare at Cory. "What do you mean?"

He holds the bag tightly in his hand as he walks to where Noah is seated on the couch. Thankfully his clothes now cover his body, the colorful tattoos on his arm still on display beneath the short sleeve of his t-shirt. Cory pats him on his knee and then reaches forward to grab Noah's shoulder with his small hand, pulling him towards him. "Noah has this." His fingers run carefully across Noah's cheek tracing along the scar. "Sadie has one here." His hand darts to his chest. "They're the same. They're special."

My eyes jump to Noah's face and within it I see a light that I've never seen before. He reaches down, carefully scoops Cory's tiny hand into his and kisses it softly.

***

"I'm sorry, Noah." I turn after closing my apartment door. "I had no idea they were coming."

He motions to the couch next to him. "Come, sit here."

I acquiesce and settle beside him. "I would have stayed. It must have been awkward when they rang the buzzer."

"That would have been less awkward than her using her spare key to unlock the door." He cocks a brow as he continues, "I'm pretty sure she saw my ass when I ran for the bedroom."

I purse my lips together. "No. She would have said something."

"She was blushing when I came back out." He finishes the last few drops of his coffee. "She brought you something."

I glance to the left to where the painting Sadie gave me last night is sitting on the floor. I don't know what to say. How do I bring up the fact that a painting done by my former lover is staring us both right in the face? "I don't want it."

"You don't want the painting?" A ghost of a smile skirts across his lips. "Did you tell her that?"

"No," I answer weakly. "It's too complicated. She idolizes Beck." I bite my tongue at the mention of his name.

"It's twisted that she'd give you something one of your past lovers created." The words hang heavy in the air between us. "Especially someone you cared so much for."

The reminder bites. He's skating around the issue. If he's not going to dive headfirst into what happened at my party, I'll gladly take the lead. "You saw me talking to him, didn't you?"

His head darts to the side and he glances past me to the painting. "I was across the street on a bench. I saw the whole thing."

The whole thing? What the fuck does that mean? "You saw me talking to Brighton?"

"I saw Brighton pleading with you. I saw the way he was looking at you. I saw it all."

"You saw me talking to Brighton?" I repeat. "That's all you saw."

"I saw his hand on the small of your back when you two walked back inside."  His fist clenches on his knee. "I saw him staring at you when you left."

"You came to my party and you watched me with him instead of telling me you were there?" I say breathlessly, closing my eyes. "Why? Why didn't you come inside?"

"You know why, Alexa." He leans back on the couch, creating a divide between us. "You fucking know why."

"The scar," I whisper the words. "You sat and watched me celebrating my birthday with my friends because of the scar." 

"I came there…" He reaches to cradle my hand in his. "I wanted to come inside. I got as far as the door and when I looked in the windows there were so many people. "

"You were going to come inside?" The confession is shocking. I hadn't even considered that as a remote possibility. I'd jumped to the conclusion that he had stalked me from afar. I assumed he'd hidden in the shadows until I left so he could follow me home.

He exhales audibly, his chest sinking with the movement. "I left my apartment hoping I could make it inside to your party. I wanted to surprise you." His hand pulls mine to his lips. "I'm sorry I couldn’t do it."

"No." I crawl onto his lap, straddling his legs. "No, please." I run my lips softly across his. "Knowing that you wanted to be there is the best gift anyone has ever given me."

"What about that?" He tips his head to the left as his arms circle my waist. "What are you going to do with that?"

"There's a silent auction at the school next week." I smile as I cup his cheeks in my hands. "It's a fundraiser for new playground equipment. I'll donate it."

He cocks a brow as he works to hold in a deep chuckle. "You're going to donate a Brighton Beck original to your school's auction?"

I nod, tracing his bottom lip with the pad of my thumb. "Maybe they'll be able to build the new playground after that."

"They'll be building a new fucking school with the money that will bring in."

I throw my head back in careless laughter. This is how every Saturday morning of my life should be.

"You didn't mention how bad the scarring was." Sadie tosses her head to the side as she pulls her car into a parking stall in front of my mother's house. "I had no idea."

"What scar?" I ask tightly.

"The scar on his face." The words feel misplaced coming from her. I'd challenged her about her scar for the better part of a decade. She'd hidden it beneath baggy sweatshirts and high necked tops until Hunter helped her see the beauty in it. Of all the people I know, Sadie should be the most compassionate and understanding about Noah's scar.

"It's not that bad." I throw the words back at her harshly. "I don't even notice it anymore."

A smile pulls on the corner of her mouth. "You don't?"

"No," I bite back. "It's hard for him, Sadie. You should understand that."

"Oh, I do." She nods briskly. "I know how hard it is, Alexa. I'm just saying you made it sound as though it was barely noticeable."

"It's not that noticeable." I feel a defense rush wave over me. If this is what Noah deals with when he ventures beyond the walls of his apartment, it's no wonder he's become such a recluse.

"You like him a lot, don't you?" She tips her head to the side as she opens her car door. "I could see it when you were looking at him yesterday."

I pull my hand through my hair, straightening the strands. "My mother is waiting for us. Let's just go in and get it over with."

She nods softly. "He likes you too."

"What?" I toss the word back over my shoulder as I slide my leg out the door onto the curb.

"Noah Foster likes you too."

"I know he does." I pull in a heavy sigh. "I can't say the same for my mother so let's get the torture over with."

She laughs heartily. "We'll stay an hour and then we're going to the spa."

"Deal."

***

"It's rude to stare, Alexa."

I exhale sharply, pulling my body away from his. "I wasn't staring. I was admiring. They're different." I'd been studying his scar since I arrived at his apartment hours ago. It's not as bad as Sadie makes it out to be. It's actually beautiful. It's become part of the landscape of his face.

"Tell me about high school, Alexa." He pulls the camera to his eye and the sound of the shutter breaks through the silence that follows his words.

"High school, Alexa?" I furrow my brow. "Who the fuck is that?"

He laughs behind the lens. "She's the girl you were in high school. Tell me about her."

"She wasn't very bright." I follow the path of the camera as he jumps to his feet and hovers above me. His chiseled nude body once again comfortably on display.

"Why?" His voice is thick and deep. "What did she do that wasn't very bright?"

"No." I turn to the side, tucking the sheet around my breasts to shield them from the lens. "Let's talk about you."

"Me?" He falls to his knees. "What about me?"

I pull my hands to my face. I'd been in agony for days. I thought the new week would ease my mind over seeing that text message on Noah's phone but the long hours at work haven't lessened my curiosity at all. It was Wednesday now and the image of Ari's text message is still burning a hole inside of me. I have to find out.

"I wanted to ask you about a woman." I'll ease into this slowly.

"What woman?" His dark eyes dance across my face. "One of the women in the portraits at the gallery?"

"No." He just gave me a perfect segue for my question. "There was a woman at the gallery. Her name was Ari I think."

He rolls back on his heels and the camera drops from his grasp onto the bed. "Arianna."

"Yes, her." I push my ass back so I can settle myself against the headboard. "Who is she?"

"A pain in my ass." The words are razor sharp. "She was part of my show last year."

"She's just a model?"

"No." His gaze is hard. "We're friends."

The words surprise me. The only friend I've heard Noah speak of is Brighton and since the encounter at the gallery, I highly doubt that they're on speaking terms. "Friends?"

His jaw tightens. "Yes." The word is clipped and direct. "Why are you asking?"

This is the point where I should confess that I read the text message from Ari about Camilla. This is where honesty becomes the best policy. This is where I hide behind my insecurities because I don't want to fuck this up by sounding accusatory when he was only helping a friend.

"She was intense at the gallery." I pull on the edge of the sheet. The tactic affords me an escape from having to make eye contact with him. "She really wanted to talk to you."

He leans forward until his forehead is pressing against mine. "If you have something you want to ask, Alexa, spit it out."

My breath hitches. I pull my hand across my breasts, pushing the soft sheet into them, wanting a barrier between Noah and me. I part my lips; my intention is to ask about Camilla. I need to ask. I'll doubt our connection if I don't.

"She's my friend, Alexa." He kisses the tip of my nose softly. "She's nothing more to me. Nothing."

"I…" my voice trails into the distance as he pulls his large frame from the bed and disappears down the hallway.

"I booked us a table to Axel for eleven tonight." I stand at the doorway of his office, fully dressed. "We need to leave soon."

"Why would you do that?" He doesn't turn to look at me, his eyes holding steady on one of the portraits of my body hanging on the wall.

"The restaurant will be empty." I tread softly across the floor until I'm standing next to him. "Sadie arranged it for me."

He glances down at me. "Maybe another night. I'm not hungry."

I sigh softly, disappointment skirting the edges of it. "I am so I think I may just go."

"I don't know how to do this anymore."

My stomach drops at the confession. "Do what?"

"This." His gaze is back on the photograph. "Take pictures of women."

I feel a sigh of relief race through me. "I thought…"

"Don't think that, Alexa." He reaches for my hand without looking at me. "I don't know how to breathe without you anymore. Don't ever think that."

The tenderness in the words doesn't match his body language. He's withdrawn, distant and holding back. The only reassurance he's offering is his fingers woven together with mine.

"What do you mean, Noah?" I squeeze his hand looking for something, anything that he can offer to me. "Why can't you take pictures?"

"That is perfection." He pulls both our hands up into the air, his index finger pointing at my pictures on the wall. "You're perfection. How do I go back to taking pictures after this?"

"I'm not perfect," I shoot back. "I'm far from perfect."

"You can't see what I see." His tone is insistent and determined. "When I came to your birthday party I looked at women walking by while I sat on that bench. None of them compared to you. Not one was like you."

I stare up at him, the light catching his scar and illuminating it. "You can't see what I see either."

His eyes dart down to my face, his gaze searching mine. "No one sees me the way you do." Something sparks within him and a small smile pulls over his lips. "We have a date. Let me get dressed."

***

"How did you get a driver to come pick us up so quickly?" I stare across the candle lit table at his handsome face. "He was there right after you called for him."

"He works for my father." He takes a sip from the glass of red wine he ordered once we were seated.  He had hesitated only briefly when we walked through the front doors of Axel. The moment he saw how dimly lit the room was and that the restaurant was vacant, the tightness in his shoulders had washed away.

"I'd like to meet your father."

"You've met him." He taps his fingers against the table. I can tell he's not completely comfortable by the way his eyes dart around the empty space.

"I've met your father?" I pick up the wine glass but quickly place it back down. I have to work early tomorrow morning and going in with a hangover was definitely going to get me fired before first period was even over.

"He was at the gallery." He leans back in his chair and crosses his left leg over the right. He looks striking in a light colored sweater and dark pants.

"I don't think we met." I chew on the edge of a breadstick. "I'm so hungry."

"You met." He sips from the glass again. "He can't stop talking about how beautiful you are."

"He's just like you." I narrow my eyes at him. "I only met one man. His name was Ron."

"Ron Foster." He follows my lead and munches on a breadstick too. "We flew to New York together."

"I thought you might have flown." I look over his shoulder to where the waiter is checking his smartphone. "I didn’t see you on the train."

"I had a ticket for the train." He picks up a fork from the table and twirls it between his fingers. "I had to adjust my schedule."

I trace my finger along my eyebrow. Noah's continual insistence on explaining away his need to not be seen in public is starting to wear me down. "You can just say that you felt uncomfortable. You know I understand."

He leans forward, his hand pushing the wine glass to the side. "It wasn't that."

"What was it?"

"My show this year was going to be all you." His mouth curves. "Then we fucked."

"You were actually going to show my pictures?" I feel heat course over my face. I remember the trepidation I was feeling at the gallery before the photographs were revealed. I was lost in such confusion when I believed that Amy's picture was mine. The knowledge that Noah had actually considered constructing a show entirely of my photographs is jarring.

"I was." His eyes dance as they meet mine. "Then I tasted you and I felt myself inside of you. I saw the moment when you came and I couldn't share that with anyone else."

"When did you decide not to show my pictures?"

"The afternoon of the opening." He shakes his head slightly. "I called my dad. We pulled the photographs I used together and got them up minutes before the gallery opened."

"I had no idea."