My father dealt in acquisitions, making a name for himself until he no longer had a name to make. I was still living with Gavin in an apartment after I graduated college when I fell into my business deal with the bar. I had been wanting a place of my own, but with the money I was sinking into the buyout, I couldn’t afford anything. When I stumbled upon this place, it was perfect. The previous owner had done a full remodel, so it was turnkey ready. I couldn’t turn it down, especially with the housing market in the shitter. I tapped into my father’s money, bought it, and never looked back.
“It’s getting late,” I tell her.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Her inquiry is laced with curiosity to get to know me.
“No.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’ll see you later?”
Knowing that her offer is probably the one with the least repercussions, I say, “I’ll call you.” This chick is a no strings girl. Perfect.
She stands up, and I walk her to the door, giving her a chaste kiss before she leaves.
It wasn’t but a few days after I had Gina over that she called me. We’ve been getting together for the past couple of weeks. It beats having to go out all the time only to wind up back at square one. But the last time she came over, she wasn’t so quick to leave. I know my reputation; girls know it too. But if this one thinks that she’s gonna be the one to tie me down, she’s got it all wrong.
I know I’m only making it worse as I lie here, watching her pad out of the room to go grab me a bottle of water. But what she gives me is what I need. So I take.
When she walks back into the room, holding my camera, she says in a flirty voice, “What kind of pictures do you have stored on this?” She slips back into bed, still naked, and I take the camera from her that I left out earlier today when I was taking pictures of one of Mel’s friends. “You photograph people?”
“Mainly.”
“Really?” she responds with a hint of excitement.
“Really,” I say.
I’ve always loved art, and photography is something I started tinkering with while I was in college. I don’t do a whole lot of it, but what little I do, I enjoy. It’s nice to have something to focus on every now and then.
Rolling onto her stomach, she peers up at me and whispers, “Photograph me.”
I step out of the bed and find my boxers slung across the room. Pulling them on, I walk back to where she’s lying and focus on her back. She has a curvy figure, which enhances the sway of her spine. I zoom in and start shooting. She has no idea what I’m photographing when I stop snapping and look up to see her giving seductive looks into the camera. I don’t want her face, just the line of her back.
After I get my shots, I instruct, “Sit up and face away from me.”
She does, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. I swipe the hair off of her shoulder and bring it around to her other shoulder. I then get a few shots of the contour of her neck. I’m close, and when I move to the side of her, she shifts to kiss me. There’s something to it. Something I’m not feeling.
Quickly pulling back, I say, “You shouldn’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not that guy.”
“I don’t believe that,” she whispers, and it’s now that I see the shift. I see the strings. “You’ve had me in your bed for weeks now,” she says.
I don’t want to make her feel like crap, but I don’t want to lie either. “This isn’t my bed.”
When she shakes her head, confused, I clarify, “My bed is upstairs.”
“Oh.” Her brows dip slightly, and I can see the letdown.
Gavin warned me about Gina, but I blew it off. He found out from her friend, Ashley, that we were getting together regularly. He told me that Ashley said that she wasn’t interested in anything casual with me. I blew it off ‘cause Gina has never led me to believe otherwise. Until right now.
“I thought we were on the same page here,” I say.
“No. We are.”
“You sure? I’m not into hurting people, but I’m not into feeling either. So if that’s what you’re—”
“No,” she says, cutting me off. “I just misread you for a second, that’s all. No strings.”
Her words aren’t the least bit convincing. I see right through her, and wonder why she would put up with me for a hopeless shot at something more.
“I should probably go,” she says as she starts putting her clothes back on.
When she’s dressed, she makes her way out of the room, down the hall, and to the front door. Grabbing on to her arm, I turn her to face me. “Hey. I just need to be clear with you that this is all it will ever be.”
“It’s clear,” she responds.
“Good.”
After she leaves, I start to grow more uncomfortable with the situation. I shouldn’t have kept calling her. I thought I was upfront but wonder if I was just leading her on. I stew around, thinking about how to remedy this situation, when my phone buzzes with a text.
Can I see you tomorrow?
Shit. She couldn’t even wait an hour. Yeah, I’ve gotta cut this off. Looking at the time, I can’t believe it’s still so early. Not that our escapades last any longer than they have to. She likes it fast and rough, which works perfectly for me since that’s all I like. But shit has to come to a stop. Sooner than later. The last thing I need is a clinger.