After the party 2
- 3 years ago
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Meant To Be Ch. 05 free porn video
I slowly turned to look at the page in front of me, and my heart jumped into my throat.
It definitely looked like me, all right. The woman in the drawing was curled up on one side in bed, naked but with a sheet covering most of her other than one bare leg. She was asleep, her hair in ringlets fanning around her face, a small smile on her lips. Holding my breath, I reached out a finger to trace the line of the pillow her head rested on.
It can’t be me, I told myself. That woman is beautiful.
I could recognize my curls from when my hair was shorter, but this woman’s hair was perfectly arranged, nothing like the frizzy mess that my hair felt like when I woke up. Her lashes were long and resting on her cheeks. Her full lips formed into a perfectly satisfied, dreamy smile. Though covered by the sheet, the artist had portrayed the supple shape of the body that was hidden from sight. The seductive slope of the leg that was showing, the gentle arch of her neck above the sheet, the graceful arm draped across her ribcage, the curve of one breast peeking out – none of that belonged to me.
It was clearly a rough sketch, only the woman and the bedding, nothing in the background to indicate the location. But I didn’t need to see the surroundings to know whose room it was.
‘Nick,’ I whispered, tears springing to my eyes.
Suddenly afraid to touch it, I rested my index finger on the corner of the page, methodically stroking the bumpy ridges of the paper. It occurred to me that was the first time I’d spoken his name out loud in almost a year.
‘Yes, Nick,’ Miles said softly.
I saw a teardrop land on the page, away from any part of the drawing but I still gasped and shoved the stool back.
‘Shit, I’m sorry,’ I mumbled.
Miles placed a hand on my arm. I glanced at him and saw his look of concern.
‘It’s okay,’ he assured me. ‘He has others. Many more, actually.’
‘What?’ I whispered.
Miles put an arm around me and led me to a small sofa. He retrieved my water and the drawing, sitting next to me.
‘He’s been drawing this since long before I met him,’ Miles was saying. ‘He didn’t show it to me until after the class ended. His work in class was technically good but always somehow – flat. He told me he’d mostly done landscapes, buildings…he wanted to learn more about drawing the human form. We kept discussing techniques and he finally showed me his series of this, to get my input, to see if he was improving.’
I felt Miles watching me and I met his eyes.
‘Cassie, this was one of the first ones he did, well before he took my class. And I saw that he didn’t need my class, he just needed the right model to bring the emotion into his work.’
Tears were spilling onto my cheeks. I looked from Miles to the drawing and back again several times, speechless.
‘What?’ I repeated dumbly, then rolled my eyes at my lack of eloquence.
Miles snorted a laugh and squeezed my shoulder.
‘He’s still drawing you. I’ve told him I think it’s done. He thinks he’s trying to get it right, but I think…I think he’s trying to stay connected to you.’
I shoved the drawing away slightly, leaning forward to cover my face with my hands.
‘He told you about us?’ I asked weakly.
‘He didn’t need to.’
I looked at Miles quizzically.
‘Everything he feels about you is right here – and in the expression on his face when he looked at it. I didn’t need to be told any details about what it is between you,’ Miles said gently.
I stood suddenly and stalked across the room, stopping at the window to look onto the street.
‘Then why did he end it?’ I said bitterly.
If Miles heard me, he chose not to respond.
‘Have you seen him recently?’ I asked suddenly, turning to face Miles.
‘Not for a few months,’ Miles said. ‘He’s been back in London.’
‘He moved back?’ I said, my throat constricted. My stomach was twisting in on itself.
‘No, no – his mother was ill so he arranged to work from there for a while until she got back on her feet.’
‘Oh,’ I said hollowly. ‘Is she all right?’
‘I believe so.’
I nodded. I slumped to the floor by the window, leaning against the wall. Miles walked over and sat next to me, his arm around my shoulder comfortingly.
‘He’s – he’s not seeing anyone?’ I whispered.
‘Not that I know of, but all we really ever talked about was art,’ Miles admitted.
‘That’s not me,’ I said suddenly, gesturing to the drawing Miles was still holding.
‘That’s you, Cassie,’ he replied firmly, still sounding amused.
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘I mean, maybe he thought he was drawing me, maybe he meant to draw me. But I don’t look like that.’
‘Cassandra,’ Miles said in exasperation.
I looked up, startled.
‘This is you. I’ve seen you in practically that exact pose, asleep. It’s you.’
I bit back my protest, seeing the honesty in his face. I looked at the sketch again, but instead of seeing the woman, or myself, I saw Nick.
‘God, I miss him,’ I whispered, touching the drawing lightly as if it were him.
Miles gave me a comforting hug and I found myself telling him everything. He listened silently as we remained sitting on the cold floor, his reassuring arm around my shoulders. I leaned away to look at him directly when I was finished.
‘Would you have shown me this if you knew the whole story?’ I asked curiously.
‘I guess. Why?’
‘Because there’s nothing to do about it,’ I said sadly. ‘It’s not like I’ve suddenly aged fifteen years. And I’m still the niece of the guy who is like a brother to him, the guy who yelled at him and made him feel like it was morally wrong to get involved with me. Nothing’s changed as far as his reasons for thinking it was best to end it.’
Miles nodded slowly. ‘Maybe.’
He put the sketch down, turning it over so we couldn’t see it.
‘I’m sorry, Cassie. I got caught up in the excitement of realizing how I recognized you, and it seemed like his work was such a romantic gesture – I guess I thought I would be doing this fantastic thing, bringing you two together.’ He sighed. ‘If I had known, then no, I hope I wouldn’t have told you about this. The last thing I’d want to do is upset you, or hurt you.’
I shrugged, patting his leg.
‘I know,’ I told him. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
Miles offered to take me home, but I just wanted to be alone. When I got back to the village, I wandered around the neighborhood for a while before going back to my apartment. All I wanted to do was forget it, but the image in that drawing was burned in my brain. It was still early, but I got into bed anyway, hoping I was tired enough to sleep. Instead I lay there, the sketch flashing against my eyelids each time I closed my eyes.
Until now I hadn’t had any word of him. My mind flooded with thoughts of how he’d been spending his time, mostly who he was spending that time with. The ache returned, growing from the pit deep in my stomach until it spread through my body until everything hurt. I still couldn’t recall any of our time together fondly, despite every moment until that last day being so wonderful.
I sat up in frustration. I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I called Gwen before remembering she was at her parents’ for the night. Without thinking I dialed Ian’s number.
‘Hey, Cass,’ he said when he picked up.
‘Are you busy tonight?’ I asked. ‘I need to get drunk.’
There was a short pause while he registered my words, then he invited me over. His friends were there playing video games and after a few drinks, I joined in. I became louder the more I drank, but it wasn’t the jovial, giggly me, it was a biting, sarcastic version of me that entertained them as I mocked my skills as well as their own. His friends didn’t know me well enough to notice, but Ian did. When they left, he sat next to
me on the couch and stared at me with concern.
‘What happened tonight?’ he asked.
‘Nothing. I just was feeling bummed out and wanted to forget about it for a while,’ I mumbled.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘No. I absolutely do not want to talk about it,’ I said emphatically.
‘Okay,’ Ian said, chuckling. ‘Come on, I’ll take you home.’
‘No!’ I said quickly. ‘Gwen’s gone. I don’t want to be home alone.’
‘You want to stay here?’ Ian asked with incredulity.
‘I’m already half asleep on your couch,’ I pointed out. I was reclining against the armrest, my feet tucked under me.
‘This couch sucks – take my bed,’ Ian offered.
‘It’s okay. Besides, I can’t move,’ I told him.
Shaking his head, Ian laughingly picked me up and carried me to his room. He lowered me to the bed, looking at me cautiously when I didn’t remove my hands from around his neck. I was staring at his mouth. Impulsively, I pulled his head to mine and kissed him. He drew away, looking almost alarmed. I tugged on his shirt until our mouths met again. His palms landed on the bed on either side of me as he tried to resist.
‘Cass,’ he whispered against my lips.
‘Kiss me,’ I demanded.
There was a moment’s pause while Ian hesitated, then his arms circled around me and he kissed me. He pressed his body to mine, flattening me on the bed. He ran his hands along the length of my body, his mouth exploring mine urgently. The kisses became languid, his fingers finding their way to my hair. Ian rested a hand on my cheek and looked into my eyes.
‘God, Cassie,’ he murmured delightedly.
He buried his face in my hair and hugged me tightly. I hugged him back, closing my eyes in anguish as what I was doing hit me. This was Ian. My friend, Ian. Why had I kissed him? It was only going to hurt him. I was struggling to find the right words when his lips found mine again. He must have sensed the shift in my emotions because he broke the kiss. He stared at me, trying to read my eyes.
‘You still love him, don’t you?’
It was more of a statement than a question. I shut my eyes briefly, knowing I wore a pained expression when I looked at him again.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered.
Ian rolled to my side and leaned against the headboard, pulling me into his arms.
‘I knew it was wishful thinking,’ he said under his breath, stroking my hair.
He sounded resigned, but thankfully not angry. I sat up to face him.
‘I am sorry,’ I repeated. ‘I don’t know why I did that, but I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry.’
‘I know. It’s okay.’ He put his arms around me again. ‘Now will you tell me what happened tonight?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I mumbled. ‘Nothing’s changed.’
We sat in silence for several minutes before Ian spoke again.
‘You know, I’ve never seen you happier than when you were with Nick.’
I tried to look up at him, but he held me tightly against his chest so I couldn’t see his face.
‘You were so…alive. It was kind of amazing to watch. Even though I was jealous, I loved seeing you that happy,’ he admitted. ‘And since then…well, maybe nothing’s changed regarding the reason you broke up, like you say. But if nothing’s changed then that could also mean that his feelings for you haven’t changed either.’
‘But -‘ I began.
‘I think you should talk to him,’ Ian said firmly.
‘No, I -‘
‘Cass, you’ve been half of yourself since you two broke up,’ Ian interrupted. ‘Maybe you guys can’t be together for whatever reason, but at least if you talk to him it might give you some kind of closure.’
I pressed my face into his chest, trying not to think about Nick and failing miserably.
‘You’re such a good friend, Ian,’ I said into his shirt.
He patted my head, chuckling.
I tried to leave, feeling guilty and embarrassed, but Ian insisted I stay. We fell asleep next to each other, fully clothed, our hands clasped. I woke up before him and propped myself up to watch him sleep. His hands were resting on his stomach, his expression peaceful. I smiled softly at the sight. A surge of gratitude welled up inside me, I was so lucky to have him for a friend. I had to fight the impulse to hug him, feeling it wouldn’t be fair. I tried to get up quietly but he stirred as soon as I moved.
‘Want to get breakfast?’ he asked, stretching.
‘Thanks, I should really get home. I have to catch up on studying,’ I told him. ‘Go back to sleep,’ I added fondly.
He rolled over to watch me get up. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. Thanks for last night,’ I said quietly, putting on my shoes before turning to him. ‘Your friendship means a lot to me, Ian.’
‘I know,’ he replied seriously. ‘The same goes for you.’
I struggled to focus on my schoolwork, jumping up in relief when I heard Gwen come home. Barely giving her time to take off her coat, I filled her in.
‘Whoa,’ she said softly.
I nodded glumly.
‘Cass, Ian is right – you need to talk to him,’ she said, her eyes still wide. ‘I mean – Jesus, that’s romantic. You have to see him. Right now!’
I snickered at her urgency. ‘He’s still in London,’ I reminded her.
‘Then call him! No,’ she added. ‘Not over the phone. But we need to find out when he gets back.’
‘Gwen -‘ I stopped, my throat tightening. ‘He’s just going to break my heart all over again.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, shaking her head impatiently. She sighed, her excitement fading. ‘Okay, maybe…shit, I’m sorry, Cassie.’
I couldn’t help a small smile, her changing moods of the last few minutes perfectly mirrored what I had been experiencing since leaving Miles’s studio.
‘I just don’t see the point,’ I said, despair washing over me. ‘He said – he made it sound like he always expected it to end. Maybe he does still care about me,’ I added, thinking of the drawing. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything. I was just something to – I don’t know, a temporary thing for him. I bet I didn’t make any impact on him whatsoever,’ I finished dramatically.
‘Christ, he’s been drawing your picture for months,’ Gwen said emphatically. ‘Of course you made an impact.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ I protested. ‘How could I?’
Gwen was silent for so long that I looked at her curiously.
‘You always sell yourself short,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘It kind of cracks me up,’ she continued, smiling fondly. ‘You think you’re – I don’t know – wallpaper. You have no idea how you draw people to you.’
‘What?’ I repeated. ‘That’s not me. Penny does that, not -‘
‘God, stop comparing yourself to your sister,’ Gwen said impatiently. ‘Penny’s awesome, sure, but you’re just as awesome. In a different way than she is, but you’re not less than she is.’
I gaped at her.
‘I wouldn’t have moved to New York if it weren’t for you,’ she said quietly.
‘Of course you would have,’ I said, my brow wrinkling in confusion.
‘Oh, I always talked about it, I know. But it was a fantasy, something I never would have had the balls to do if you hadn’t gotten on board,’ she said matter-of-factly.
‘What are you talking about? You grew up, like, two feet from here.’
Gwen shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have done it on my own. I think you would have, though,’ she added speculatively. ‘You would have been scared shitless, but I think you would have.’
I kept staring at her, my mouth open in shock. She giggled.
‘Like I said, you sell yourself short. Anyway, I know you made an impact on Nick.’
I chewed on my lip, thinking about what she’d said.
‘Maybe I’ll leave him a note,’ I said suddenly. ‘To call me when he gets back.’
I nodded again, this time firmly. Gwen clapped her hands together, making me laugh. The chirping of her phone interrupted us. I watched as her cheeks turned pink when she read the message.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘It’s
Drew,’ she said, trying not to smile.
I became amused as her blush deepened. Drew was one of her classmates that we spent time with often. He was in his late twenties with jet-black hair and hazel eyes that slanted slightly, indicating his mother’s Asian ancestry. He and I had been talking about throwing Gwen a surprise party for her birthday in a few months and I’d gotten to know him pretty well. He was quiet, but very funny and an extremely talented artist.
‘You like him,’ I observed teasingly.
‘No,’ she protested. ‘Well, maybe. I don’t know. Talk about being confused,’ she added with a sigh.
‘I wish I’d known – I’ll bow out the next time we hang out together,’ I said with a grin.
‘No!’ she exclaimed. ‘He’s not interested.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ I told her.
She shrugged and I could tell she wanted to end the conversation, so I didn’t push it. My head had cleared somewhat at making the decision to contact Nick and I was able to get back to studying. Before I could talk myself out of it, I went to his building the next morning. George greeted me with a smile.
‘Cassandra,’ he said cheerfully.
‘How are things, George?’ I asked.
‘Good, can’t complain,’ he said. ‘Mr. Hawthorne isn’t in,’ he told me.
‘I hear he’s out of the country,’ I ventured. When George nodded, I continued. ‘Do you think if I leave a note for him, you could make sure he gets it?’
‘Of course.’
George held out a hand and I looked at him blankly, then flushed with embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to me to write the note ahead of time.
‘Uh, I don’t suppose you have a piece of paper and a pen?’ I asked. ‘Apparently I didn’t have the brains to think of writing it before I got here.’
George chuckled and led me inside, giving me a notepad and a pen. Telling me to let him know when I was finished, he left me alone. He returned twenty minutes later to find me seated in the same spot with several crumpled up pieces of paper next to me. I caught his eye and looked at him helplessly. He watched me sympathetically for a long moment before kneeling next to me.
‘What if I give you a call when he returns?’ he asked quietly.
‘Would you?’ I said in relief. ‘Is – is that okay?’
‘Well, don’t tell the bosses,’ he joked.
‘I would really appreciate it,’ I told him.
George stood, grinning and accepting my repeated thanks as I gave him my number. I left feeling just as uncertain about Nick but now I was resigned. It was done, and there was nothing left to do but wait for him to get back. I was walking away from Nick’s building, so focused on my thoughts of him that I wasn’t paying attention to anything else. I jumped when I heard my name.
‘Cassie,’ he repeated.
Whipping my head around, I saw Jason a few feet behind me. My heart sank. I quickly glanced around to assess my surroundings, we were on a crowded street near the park but I instinctively turned my body away from there and toward the nearest shop I could see.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked warily.
‘I was going to ask you the same thing,’ he said conversationally, his smile not reaching his eyes.
He stepped forward to close the gap between us and I walked backwards.
‘Who lives there?’ he asked, jerking his head back toward Nick’s building.
‘Where?’ I asked, trying to buy time.
‘You know where. New boyfriend?’ he sneered.
‘No,’ I said truthfully. ‘Were you following me?’
‘Nope,’ he said casually.
‘Okay,’ I replied, not believing him. ‘Well, it was nice seeing you -‘
‘Wait,’ he interrupted, quickly taking a large step toward me and grabbing my arm.
‘Let go of me,’ I said plaintively, tugging my arm.
‘Not until you’ve heard what I have to say – I’m sick of you avoiding me,’ he said almost cheerfully.
‘I’m not avoiding you,’ I retorted. ‘We broke up.’
‘And you won’t let me apologize,’ he shot back. ‘You won’t talk to me – Cassie, I just want to be with you. What can I do to get you back?’
I managed to yank my arm away and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
‘There’s nothing to do,’ I said harshly. ‘It’s over. Please stop calling me.’
‘No,’ he said angrily, reaching out for me. ‘Cassie -‘
‘Is there a problem here?’
I looked up at the new voice and sighed in relief to see George. Jason was tall and muscular, but George towered over him. He looked between Jason and I calmly, but I watched him position himself between us carefully and knew he had seen our interaction.
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