Chapter 32

She twisted and turned as she studied herself in the full length mirror sitting in the corner of her room. Why had he sent this, of all things, for her to wear to this small get together? It wasn’t like it was some huge important party, no, it was just “the guys” getting together for a bit of fun, a part of him she hadn’t seen before and needed to see before the finalizing of his album cover. So why had he made it a point to courier over a special outfit?

She studied her reflection, her thoughts winding past the thoughts of the dress and back over the last week or two. The time they’d spent in New Jersey had been, for all its moments of soul shaking change, quiet and fun. She had to admit that to herself. She’d learned so much about him as a man, not nearly enough if she was honest with herself, but it was a start. She wanted to know more. It had surpassed the need to do her job, now she nearly craved any iota of information she could get. She wasn’t sure why, other than he’d woken her up in so many ways, shown her the possibilities she’d given up on years before.

The last week or two back in New York had helped teach her that as well. There had been days, due to her job, that she’d had to forgo the trip to the studio and that had been harder on her than she’d thought it would be. Christ, just seeing him had become an addiction for her. He had, in a few short days, managed to make her want him and all that he offered. God how she wanted him. She tilted her head, her hand moving to try to gentle the strap into the correct position across her shoulders. It wasn’t want, it was need pure and simple. A need she’d never manage to fill. She sighed as she wrestled with the straps, it wasn’t just a need. She knew that now. 

She had a craving that she was pretty sure she’d never ever get enough of.


She yearned to see which new sneaky way he’d find to just get close enough to brush his hand over her hair. Those barely there touches always led to a kiss that promised so much more. She was sure he was teasing her into turning her head for a full kiss, and sometimes she gave in and turned her head. When their lips met she could feel the rockets blasting off inside of her head, warming her, turning her to mush. She’d always quickly go back to her work, playing her part of being hard to get, but it was getting harder to turn her head away from him with each and every touch. 

Not that she’d had much of that in the last few days. Her boss had come up with some new artists that had needed help and he’d pulled her from her full time obsession with getting Redemption ready. Claimed the new artist needed her more. She’d tried to stumble through an explanation of Richie wanting her there for the final days only to have her boss arch a brow and ask if she was getting involved with a contract. 

She’d stumbled her way through the “of course not” as well. She’d had to pull back and that had been the hardest. Four days. It had only been four days of not seeing Richie. That’s all it had taken to show her that it wasn’t just some little fling, some aberration of her character. That four days had taught her exactly what craving was. Be damned if she wasn’t seeing him everywhere she’d looked. 

Richie had finally called, two days into her enforced fast from all he was, and it had nearly undone her. Just the sound of his smooth baritone had her quivering as she’d explained why she hadn’t shown up. He’d understood of course. Having been in this business for as long as he had, he knew how things were. He’d just started calling at the oddest time of the day, and even in weird off hours of the night. His voice whispering through the phone line to tease and taunt in ways the brushes of his hand couldn’t.


And that is why she was still standing before her mirror, twisting and turning into a pretzel as she tried to situate the dress he’d sent over. The dress that mysteriously was similar to another dress he’d purchased weeks before. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t wearing her armor, she’d forgone the fake glasses that hid her eyes and her hair was hanging free. She had to be perfect, dressed to impress and thrill. 

It was then the thought hit. What if he had lost interest in the last few days? What if meeting his friends was simply business? After all it was the final nail in the coffin so to speak. Meeting his buddies, seeing how he was around them. She’d be able to finish the cover then.

What if he lost interest after that? She had a craving, it didn’t mean he did. 

She glanced over at her counter top, her gaze immediately finding the one pair of glasses that would match the dress he’d sent. Stepping over she lifted them, securely settling them onto the bridge of her nose as her hands swept back her hair into a sleek quick pony tail.

Just because she had an itch, didn’t mean he did, better to be prepared just in case.

She stepped away from the mirror, moving into the living room, her eyes immediately settling onto the canvas that even now, called to her. It was her pet project, the Redemption cover. No computer generated graphics for this one. No, it had to be original art. She worked until the wee hours of the morning, each shading, each color having to be just so. It was him, each nuance showing a piece of the man who worked so hard on redemption without thinking he deserved it. She only hoped that when he saw it, IF he saw it, he'd finally see himself as most people saw him. 

He'd patiently sat for her, his fingers strumming on the guitar that had, without his knowledge made it into the final painting. Even she recognized there was no him without the guitar. It had to be there, it was an important part of the man. Her hand lifted, one finger tracing over the shadings of his face as she smiled. It wasn’t quite finished, maybe meeting his friends would help. It needed something still, as well as needing his approval. 

She glanced towards the canvas in the corner, a sheet covering it from view. She felt the heat in her cheeks as she remembered the night she'd worked on that particular painting. Just a couple of days into their small separation, she’d been unable to sleep. He’d called and his words had worked her into a frenzy. Painting had been the only way to calm the emotions flowing through her. Maybe someday she’d show that one to him, but for now it was safely hidden beneath its pristine white covering.


She glanced at the clock and almost groaned. Where was he? Had he forgotten what time to pick her up? God Alex, you’re not sixteen. Stop it. He’ll be here, he keeps his word. She shook her head and thought of having a small drink while she waited. Maybe it would calm her, it would at least keep her busy while she waited on him.