Burning Muses Page 8

  He texted me a few times, asking favors to do with his dog. I welcomed the tiny things he asked of me. Now, though, the house was too quiet. The desire to close my laptop and turn on the television burned me. I took my phone off the nightstand again, no texts or calls. Kat and my mother were asleep most likely, my best friend in New York was on a date, and Chace wasn’t home. He should be getting off work soon.

  I couldn’t text him or go down stairs when he got back for company. Did we know each other well enough for me to do that? Barely a week ago we discussed my sex life and I divulged a secret Kat didn’t even know.

  I drafted a text to him. Then deleted it. Then drafted one again. Then deleted it. Why was my isolation bothering me? I was no stranger to it. I went on writing retreats all the time.

  I flinched at the sound of Artax’s bark. Chace was home. The gravel crunched as I stilled myself in the dark of my room, my face illuminated by the screen of my Macbook. I slowly closed it. Maybe he would play guitar on the porch tonight, it would cap off this horrible, wordless day nicely. I melted into the pillow behind me, listening to Chace talk softly to his dog on the porch below, suddenly my phone alerted in my hand. A text from him.

  Chace: I hope you didn’t fall asleep with that door open.

  I glanced at my balcony door smiling. I texted back that I was awake. I would never go to sleep with the door open.

  Chace: Do you own a bathing suit?

  Me: No??

  Chace: Are you unsure if you do?

  Me: I don’t.

  Chace: Dang, I figured one had to be in one of the million boxes delivered here. Do you have anything to swim in?

  Me: What? Why? It’s midnight. We don’t own a pool.

  Chace: I’ve had a shitty day. I wanted to see you in a bathing suit.

  Me: Um…

  Chace: Kidding! Just trust me. It’ll be fun

  Me: Okay. Only because of your shitty day.

  Chace: Meet me outside in a bit!

  I met Chace outside by his jeep. He was kneeling by his dog, ruffling his fur. He had on a pair of dark grey running pants, a tight white t shirt, and a pair of eye glasses. Those were new. Attractive. Not going to lie. He stood at my approach and shrugged at my clothes. “You look properly attired for breaking and entering.”

  I halted my steps. “What?”

  “Nothing. Hop in!” He was energetic and alive.

  I choked out a breath, half laughing at his playfulness. “I believe I heard the words ‘breaking and entering.’ No way am I getting in that jeep.” I crossed my arms over my chest for emphasis.

  “Trust me. We are going to have fun. I can’t go alone.” He walked over to his vehicle and swung the door open, hopping in.

  “To where?” I sounded like an old lady as I begrudgingly followed. I opened my door and pursed my lips as I stood outside, staring at his blue eyes.

  He lost his smile, and stared up at the sky for a moment, then moved his eyes to me. “I’ve had a horrible day.”

  “Me too.” I needed inspiration. I needed more than the glow of a handful of Apple products. I had a slight ache in my right temple from the stress of it all. It always happened when I stared at a screen for too long with still hands.

  “Then get in.” The moonlight reflected off his glasses and my resolve vanished. We pulled out of the driveway and headed away from town. I was unfamiliar with what was in this direction. Having no friends or family living further down our road, I never explored. My mother always drove me to school so I didn’t ride the bus that direction either.

  The cool April air danced in my hair, I moved my right arm in the air outside the window. Beside me, Chace had begun to sing softly to the radio. Too afraid he would stop, I kept my face away from him. I assumed he didn’t sing with his guitar playing due to an unpleasant voice. Very wrong. His voice didn’t sound like one you would associate with country, which is what his music sounded like. His singing voice matched the one that spoke to me earlier. Calming, soft. In no way feminine, but never booming.

  “I thought you didn’t sing,” I said to the passing air.

  “This doesn’t count.” I heard a smile in his voice. The light one I loved.

  “Why?” I turned to him.

  “Singing to the radio doesn’t count. Everyone does that.” He reached over and lowered the volume.

  “So?” I wanted to hear more. That voice, there was nothing like it. He was letting his guard down. From the moment I had met him, I had the pesky feeling that he was more reserved in my presence. These little glimpses of the guy I felt he truly was had emerged recently.

  “So that would mean everyone is a singer,” he countered, playfully.

  “You know what I mean.” I turned the volume up, just a little, testing.

  “I just don’t sing what I write. And it is very easy to sing along to someone else’s voice.”

  “You have a nice voice.” Did he sing for anyone at all? Maybe he sang on the deck, before I moved in.

  “Thanks.” He turned the radio off.

  “Now you’re not going to sing?”

  “No, we’re just almost there. We have to be quiet.” His voice fell to a whisper and he lowered his head slightly; I mimicked his movements, like a shadow.

  “Where?” The moon shone high in the sky, illuminating everything. I had no clue where we were.

  “You haven’t figured it out?”

  “I never went down past the house. Where are we going? Are you going to tell me anything?” I started to take a good look at my surroundings. All I could see were trees and the glow of the lines on the road from our headlights. We pulled off the road to the right, before the bridge ahead of us, onto a worn down path, leading us below the overpass. Chace killed the lights and turned to me.

  “You ready?” His excitement was electric. It felt tangible. I was afraid it would grab ahold of my arm and never let go. I wanted it to. I was afraid I would follow it, and him, anywhere.

  This was not what I signed up for. A bitter spring creek? Snakes? Slime covered rocks? No. It was not warm enough to get in that running water. A summer float would be amazing, but it was definitely not summer. “I am not swimming in this cold ass creek at night.”

  “Good me either. C’mon.” He exited the jeep and began walking back the way we entered, towards the main road. I cursed and flung my door open, scrambling after him. At the top, he crossed the highway to the road that would have lead us left. I caught up and saw his destination, freezing on the centerline.

  “No, way man. No way. Nooooo way.”

  “What?” He turned and began walking backwards, grinning. He crooked a finger at me and beckoned.

  “I’m not breaking into a church camp pool.” I furiously shook my head to emphasize my point. I didn’t move from the middle of the road. Luckily the pavement stretched out on both sides. No one would be popping around a corner to lay me out.

  “It’ll be okay.” He turned again, walking forward once more.

  “No way. I’m not doing it,” I protested, yet I still followed him. It was true, I would follow him anywhere. Fuck.

  “You can’t just sit down in the jeep.” He called over his shoulder, making his way down the hill, the pool sat at the bottom of it. I could see tiny little cabins surrounding the water. A large grassy area had two soccer goals and a large building was at the far edge of the field by the tree line.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I won’t let you sit down there alone. We’ll just have to leave. I really want to swim though. Please.”

  He had stopped and was giving me large exaggerated puppy eyes. I was sure they worked on everyone. They probably got him out of trouble time and time again. The moon made them glow eerily.

  I turned to the right and saw my way out; I flung my arm out and pointed. “There’s a house right there! Someone is going to see us!” He couldn’t argue with that one.

  “No, I know who lives there. They are out of town. See, no garage, no cars. It’ll be fi
ne. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this. There’s a spot where the chain link fence separates. It’s easy to get in.” I followed him, reassured by the fact that no one was home across the street. Once at our destination, Chace bent and began tugging on the chain link fencing.

  “How many times have you done this?” I glanced back the way we came as he unwound wire holding two sections together.

  “A dozen? I don’t know, I’ve lost count,” he shrugged. He knew I had given up.

  “I’m surprised. I never would have pegged you for the trespassing type.” I knelt down next to him, hiding from the road.

  “It’s been a really long time since I’ve done this. It was a common thing before I started college, the year I was acting like a huge ass hat.”

  “A huge ass hat?” I couldn’t imagine him as anything but the saint he was. I was seeing a new side tonight.

  “Yeah. Your mom’s words. A big loser who drank a lot and didn’t give a shit.” He yanked his hand back and stuck his index finger in his mouth. “Fuck. Ouch.”

  “I can’t imagine that. You’re Mister Responsible.”

  “Yeah, Mister Responsible who got a C on his test today.” His tone deflated. He went back to work on the very top of the opening.

  “Hence the bad day?”

  “Hence the bad day.” Finished, he pushed the fence to the side and slipped in. Once inside he pulled it back for me to slip through. “So, I quit the bar. I should have given two weeks’ notice, but I was so mad at myself that when I showed up for my shift I told Sheila it would be my last one. I felt bad after but I didn’t know how to take it back. I could just hear your mom’s voice telling me I need to focus on school more. So I did it. I’m glad I did. Just kind of pissed with myself.”

  “Tomorrow will be a better day.” I walked around the pool, peering into the water. I couldn’t tell how clean it was without the lights on at the bottom and on the sides. I hoped nothing was swimming around in there.

  “Today has already improved.” He walked the opposite direction.

  “So, who did you come out here with during your brief irresponsible phase?” I imagined him skinny-dipping with pretty girls. He hadn’t had a girlfriend since high school. I wondered if he played the field often. I wondered if he was more like me than I thought. I didn’t know if I wanted to know the answer to that.

  “Well, your brother would come out here with me. And, girls of course.” I was right. I smiled to myself.

  “Oooohh. Were they super impressed with your breaking and entering skills?”

  “They were easily impressed,” he answered, his tone matter of fact. “How was your day?”

  “Crap, too. I’ve been sitting in that damn bed all day staring at a blank screen.” The dull ache in my temple was nearly gone. The Ozark air was healing and my mind was thankful for the stimulation. For life, not the digital imitation of one.

  “That bad?” He laughed.

  “I’m dramatic, I know,” I sighed.

  “Do you always write at home?” He leaned up against the fence and laced his fingers into it above his head. I tried not to look at the sliver of skin that was exposed below the edge of his shirt.

  “Not necessarily at home, but always in my room. I’ve rented a place north of New York where I can write. I can write in a hotel room. Always in bed. I hate sitting at a desk.”

  “So you do your job from bed. Rough.”

  “Shut up! It can suck.” I stopped and stared full on at him from across the pool. I was beginning to feel nervous. I was alone in the dark with this beautiful man and despite resisting, I was beginning to desire him.

  “So you aren’t one of those authors who sit in a little coffee shop with her iced caramel latte writing all day?”

  “No. I get distracted by the people and the noise. I need to be in a room, in bed, with music playing softly. No television. It’s best if my iPad is across the room. Sure, I can surf the web right there on the computer but for some reason my iPhone and iPad tempt me more.”

  “Have you ever thought of trying something new? Maybe it will lift the block.”

  “Maybe.” What could I try?

  “When something stumps me I try to attack it from a new angle. That’s what I want to teach children. To think outside the box and to step outside their comfort zone.”

  “I could try something new and still be in this spot. A big fat boulder with no chance of moving.”

  “You act like you have something to lose.”

  “You’re right,” I surrendered. “I’ll try it.” I didn’t know what exactly I would try. I had exhausted everything. I had flown all over the world.

  “Tomorrow, then. I know exactly where to go.” He pushed off the fence and edged towards the pool.

  “Shouldn’t I choose?”

  “Nope. I know where we can go. I have the day off since I won’t be at the bar anymore.”

  “I don’t write around other people. I have to be alone. That’s why I don’t go to coffee shops. I guess that’s why I live alone. Hey, maybe you’re the problem.” I pointed at him and faked angry eyes. “You should move out.”

  “No chance. I’m not taking you to Starbucks or anything. Give me more credit than that. Do you have hiking shoes?”

  “So once again you’re asking me about specific clothing I own and planning to take me to an unknown destination.” I liked it. I liked this small trip here, more than any destination I had went to in years. I was seeing this small county that raised me with new eyes. This place that was nothing more than a synonym for too many ill words… Boring. Stale. Stifling. Wounding.

  “Are you regretting coming here?” He broke me away from my thoughts.

  “No.” I felt calm for the first time in months, in this moment. He was safe. I had run from anyone who reminded me of those words for years, because safety was a lie. This did not mean I felt that he was dull, or ordinary. He had wildness in him. It was standing here with me now. His playful side. His childish side.

  “Then shut it.”

  “Rude ass.”

  “Ass hat.”

  “Well, what are you going to swim in? You are swimming right?” He bent his knee and reached down to one of his feet. He pushed off his worn converse and slipped his sock off, dipping a toe into the water, swirling it around. “It’s a little chilly, but we’ll warm up.”

  I had changed into a matching set of undergarments. Black. They didn’t show much less than any of my bikinis did, but I was reluctant to undress. The moon was in full force. “Yes I am.”

  I slowly made my way to the small ladder. Chace’s eyes left me as he turned his back and pulled his shirt over his neck with one hand. I found it hard to keep my eyes from his skin, it glowed in the light. It was unblemished, it begged to be touched. This was a horrible idea. Desire was burning inside of me, and it felt foreign.

  I had lusted after many men, but this was new and left me feeling weakened and lightheaded. I turned and began undressing. I was overly conscious of my exposed skin. Lines of script were tattooed all over my surface. My arms, my back, my ribcage, my collarbone, my thighs. I loved words more than anything in the world, so I had branded the combinations closest to my heart all over my body. My left arm was covered in various pieces of art, a newly completed sleeve. I sensed his gaze on my back.

  “I know you’re thinking about it.” His voice was low, I turned slowly.

  “About what?” Suddenly I knew what he was referring to. I met his eyes, he had removed his glasses, and the blue was unreal in the light. He was open. I wanted to be as open as he was in that moment.

  “My leg,” he answered. “I didn’t know if that’s why you hadn’t turned around. I figured you knew.”

  That was only partially true. The majority of my shock still stemmed from the warm feeling his words had been triggering in my stomach all evening. “I didn’t. I mean, I did. I forgot.” I looked down at my hands, clutching my top.

  “I figured your mom or Andrew would ha
ve mentioned it.”

  “They did, a long time ago.” I couldn’t believe I had forgotten it. I was sick inside again, with the story. I tried not to look down at his leg. I didn’t know what was worse. Staring at it or avoiding it. It did not bother me. It did not make him any less beautiful to me. And fuck, he was beautiful in that moment. His broad shoulders, his arms, everything. Everything was perfect. I wanted to make my way around the pool to him, I wanted to touch him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. He was exposed, but the air around him was closed. He was worried about the way I viewed him now.

  “When did you lose it again?” I quickly sat down on the edge of the pool, lowering myself into the water, away from his gaze. I knew the story, I had just heard it again, but I wanted him to tell me.

  “I was eight,” he began as he made his way to the steps on his end and descended. “My family and I went on vacation to Florida. Like every summer, my parents, my sister, Sasha, and me spent time with my dad’s family at their beach house in New Smyrna.

  Sasha and I would spend the days building sand castles and chasing seagulls. At night, my mom and dad would go out on the town while we stayed behind with my aunt and uncle, looking for tiny crabs on the beach. My mom loved to dance and drink, so my father would take her out to make her happy. Sometimes I would hear them fighting when they came back. My dad wanted the entire trip to be about family, but she wanted to have her own fun too.”

  His face and voice changed at that last sentence. Anger was woven in his brow. I lowered my jaw into the water so that only my nose and eyes remained above water. I remained silent, and he continued.

  “My mom had my sister when she was sixteen, so I guess she felt like she missed out on a lot. Dad was twenty-two at the time and I doubt he ever had a wild streak. Family was what was important to him. I guess it was different for my mom. One afternoon, my dad went fishing with his brother, and my mom left right after he did. Sasha and I stayed on the beach with Aunt Viv. A couple hours later, Mom came back and waved us up from the beach. She wanted to take us for ice cream. Once we got in the car, I could smell the alcohol.”