Freedom in Falling Read online

  He took another moment to scroll through the photos before he said, "It's all up to you. Though I gotta say, if you're worried about your modeling abilities you can probably stop. Your eyes are luminous and you have the most fuckable mouth I've ever seen and that's really saying something."

  The mouth in question fell open. A flush spread up into his cheeks, mixing with the streaks the wind had left. "You—"

  "It's a compliment. Trust me." Noah grinned. Then he lifted the camera and snapped another shot before West could tense up again. "It's a good mouth. I could build an entire show just around that if I put my mind to it." He circled to the side to get a different angle. West's eyes flicked to him and then away again. Something like suspicion lurked in their pretty brown depths. "So, tell me, why did you agree to do this? It's been driving me up the wall with curiosity. We both know you're not the art type. And you hate me."

  "I don't hate you."

  Noah's eyebrows lifted. "Could've fucking fooled me. But I'm not saying I'm not grateful. I wasn't lying about you saving me." He pressed a hand to his heart. "My hero."

  West blushed again, just like he'd known he would. Really. He was too easy. Noah was starting to think no one had ever flirted with the poor boy, which was a tragedy all on its own. Something about his square shoulders and stiff mouth said he needed more sweetness in his life. He deserved roses and first kisses over candlelit picnics. The world was too full of nasty, terrible things. He deserved the dream. Yet another reason that Noah should keep himself to himself. He wasn't the one to be giving anyone any kind of dreams. It wasn't in him.

  But flirting? There was no harm in that. Flirting was fun even without any expectations at the end. Too many people took it for granted when they should have been celebrating it instead. After all, what was better than making a willing party feel good? Watching the slow creep of pleasure come over them with no strings attached. It made him feel god-like.

  Noah glanced between the camera display and West's face as he worked. "So?"

  "So what?"

  "You never answered my question. What brings you here today? Besides my invitation and possibly a touch of fatalism."

  "I—"

  "Turn your head towards the window. Just a bit. And lift your chin." West did as asked. "There. Perfect. Okay, go on. You were saying?"

  West didn't move from the pose but that didn't keep him from glaring at the window instead. The furrow of his brow was even prettier at this angle. "Are you going to interrupt me the second I start talking again?"

  Noah laughed, a throaty sound of pure amusement. "Possibly. You're cute when you're annoyed. The bridge of your nose does this perfect little crinkle. But I did want to know about the sudden change of heart."

  "Then stop interrupting."

  "Yes, sir."

  West rearranged himself on the stool, arms folded over his chest. He didn't hunch, but the mood was right for it. All his openness had vanished in an instant. "I needed to get out. For a little while. Do something for myself."

  "So you decided to sit for me. I'm flattered."

  "It wasn't for you."

  "That's okay. You could've gone anywhere and done anything and you came here to me." Another click. "And so, I'm flattered."

  They passed the rest of the time in near silence. Noah calling out directions and West taking them without question, eyes always averted, until the timer on Noah's phone dinged to let him know the hour was up. "And you're done," he announced.

  West blinked. He looked like he'd just woken up. "Already?"

  "Yes. I promised only an hour." He kept his eyes on the series of thumbnails shown on his camera. "These are good. I think I can use them."

  "Why do you sound so surprised?"

  His answer was a crooked grin though Noah's attention never left the screen. "I wonder," he murmured in a quiet singsong voice. He set the camera aside on his supply trunk where it would be safe and spun around. "You coming again?"

  West's face said no.

  His mouth said, "Yes."

  "Perfect. Let's set up a time."

  "YOU'RE NOT USED TO people looking at you, are you?" Noah asked, voice a low hum as he bent over the large sketchbook balanced in his lap. His pencil made a faint scritch over the paper as he drew another line, but his eyes stayed trained on West, beginning at his face and following some path West couldn't decipher.

  Noah had posed him simply for their second attempt. Sitting on the floor, one leg extended and the other bent, an arm resting on his knee. Something easy to maintain for a long period, he had said. But it had been so long that West's everything was starting to fall asleep. His ass was going numb. And the need to fidget or turn away crawled on him like ants. He'd spent all week since their last sitting anticipating today and he wasn't sure why. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Noah. He wasn't looking forward to modeling. So far modeling was indistinguishable from torture.

  Stay still. Stay still. Stay still.

  So why the anticipation roiling in his stomach? And why the disappointment when Noah sat him down, as business-like as he'd promised, and got to work?

  It didn't make sense.

  "Why would I be?"

  "Just an observation." Noah tipped his head in thought and then glanced down at the paper. Frowned.

  Without Noah's eyes on him, West gave in to the urge to move. He was no longer the butterfly pinned to a tray. Tight muscles unwound. He flexed his hands. A smile touched Noah's mouth as he caught West in mid-stretch.

  "You know, you can move around if you need to. These are just sketches, not mugshots. Heaven forbid you succumb to the agony of a leg falling asleep." His fingers walked across the floor in search of a different pencil from the box. There were stacks of pencils in there, most of them identical seeming to West. No one could possibly need that many pencils. "I've been where you are. It's easier if you relax. Just go with it."

  Just go with it, he said. He kept saying that, but every muscle group in West's body wound itself even tighter under Noah's gaze. It was assessing yet blank. There was no indication of what was going on behind his eyes. He almost wished they could go back to the obvious flirting. Almost.

  "I can't do that."

  Noah lifted his eyebrows in question.

  "'Just go with it.' I can't do that."

  "Because you're thinking too much about me instead of yourself." His head bobbed. Not a nod so much as an extension of his previous shrug. "You wonder what I'm seeing. Or what I'm thinking about you." He set down his pencil and met West's eyes. "Right?"

  "No." Nothing pissed him off as quickly or completely as Noah being right. West didn't want him to have insight. He wanted him to be hopelessly, hilariously, wrong whenever possible.

  Noah exploded with laughter. "Okay."

  "And what about you?" West accused.

  "What about me?"

  West stretched out his legs then, just out of spite to see what Noah would do now that he'd completely changed the pose. There was a flutter of paper as Noah turned the page in his sketchbook and got back to work. West frowned. That was an underwhelming response. "You said you'd been where I am."

  "Modeling," he clarified. "I sat for people a few times. Classes even. Not like this." A crescent of toothy smile appeared. "You haven't been naked until you've dropped trou for two dozen people with charcoal on their fingers while they study your dick. It's quite the experience. Froze my ass off too. But the money was... well, not good, but it was money. I like money. And you look like I just kicked a puppy again. What did I say this time to offend you?" He delivered the whole speech in a tone of only mild interest and without his eyes losing their distracted vagueness. His hand moved over the paper in a series of serpentine squiggles.

  "I'm not offended."

  "Your natural state of being is offended."

  West huffed. Okay, this time he was offended. "Screw you."

  "Maybe later." The response came as quickly as if it had been preprogrammed. Another page turned. His pencil return
ed to the paper. "So what was it? For reference."

  "What can you even draw in five seconds? You just turned the page."

  "You'd be surprised." Noah flipped the pages back to where he'd begun and turned the pad around so West could see for himself.

  The sheet was filled with a jumble of scribbles. Tangled lines. Black slashes and curves. But the longer he looked the more it coalesced into something that made sense. He could see himself there in all those lines and squiggles. Somehow. In messy brilliant movement. The spread of his fingers because he talked with his hands when he was agitated. The shadow on his face when he turned towards the window. Sketches danced their way across the page. West, the way he could never see himself. He could even see the moment when Noah had mentioned nude modeling. Noah was right. He did look offended. "They're... good."

  "I'm impressed. You only sounded a little mad that time." Noah laughed. "These are just warm up sketches. The real deal takes longer. And I don't usually draw anyway so this is only practice while you get comfortable sitting and getting stared at."

  West handed back the book with more care than when he'd taken it. Noah set it back in his lap.

  "Why don't you?"

  Noah spread his hands, palms up. The side of one was smeared grey from rubbing over the pencil lines and his fingertips were dirty. He looked down into his palms like he was reading his own fortune. "The paralysis of indecision," he said with finality. "Besides, I like having a camera in my hands. I can line up a shot and have five angles to choose from in seconds if I want. On paper, it's too easy to ruin things. And once that happens there's no going back." He mimed tearing off a sheet from the book and crumpling it up. West tensed in case he intended to do it for real, but all Noah did was throw the imaginary paper towards the corner and spread his hands again. "Just fuck it. Start over. Try again. I hate that feeling. It's a nightmare. So I generally leave the traditional media to the professionals. I'm just here to fuck shit up."

  He twiddled the pencil between his fingers, staring into the distance. For a moment he was perfect again. Art. The long line of his neck and the burgeoning thought of a frown at the corner of his mouth. West felt, if he looked long enough, he'd be able to read the future in him like tea leaves. Then Noah shook himself and closed the sketchbook. He set it aside.

  "You ready to try the camera again?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "Ouch."

  "I didn't mean it like that." West sighed. "Please just tell me what I'm supposed to do so I can stop talking?"

  That earned another grin. "In that case, get your ass on the stool and I'll get my camera."

  "That's it? Just... sit?"

  "Losing the shirt would be a bonus, but it remains entirely up to your discretion. Popping a button works in a pinch. Not so tight around the neck that way."

  West reached for the button and hesitated. It was only a shirt. What could it hurt?

  Noah's smile widened as West pulled the tucked in tails free of his waistband and hung the shirt on the hook beside the door. The other hook was already taken up by a battered leather coat covered in hearts, obviously his.

  "My my. You really were hiding something good under that shirt." Teeth raked his lower lip, flushing it red, as he looked West up and down. "You just get better and better."

  West crossed and uncrossed his arms. The room was chilly without his shirt, but it didn't bother him as much as he'd expected it to. And the longer Noah stared at him with that wolfish smile, the warmer he felt. He was kindling. Noah was the match ready to set him alight.

  Noah nudged the stool towards West with one foot. "Set yourself down right there. Get comfortable. Or as comfortable as possible, we're not expecting miracles. We'll get started in a second."

  West sat. He didn't know where to put his arms or where to look. He hooked a heel on the rung of the stool. "How?"

  "Let's try chin up. Hands on your knees. Something comfortable to stay in while we finish warming you up."

  West did as instructed. Or tried. After the fifth "no, your other left", Noah set down the camera he'd been fiddling with and strolled over. He leaned down until he was level with West. In this light, his eyes were chips of jade, made brighter and paler by the glittery black eyeliner ringing them. Noah took him by the shoulders and turned him towards the window then nudged his head up with two fingers beneath his chin.

  "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure you look pretty."

  That was easier said than done.

  Sitting while Noah sketched him earlier had helped to make being stared at less strange and uncomfortable, but when the camera turned on him, he still flinched. He couldn't help it. Each click of the shutter felt like a bite out of his flesh. After the first few shots he was back to being just as stiff as he'd started. His muscles were cramping from trying to hold still.

  Noah slapped a hand over his face and fell back on the floor. "I can see you doing that," he said from between his fingers. "You look like I'm about to go Big Bad Wolf on you." A pause. "Which might not be a bad look but it doesn't work for this set of photos. I need..." His free hand waved in the air. It didn't look much different from his sketching earlier except this time it was for his eyes alone. West couldn't see whatever he was shaping. Noah's fist closed around the words he was searching for. He stared at West like he was both the answer to the universe and the cause of every evil. "Well forget about that. I'll know it when I see it. Just work on looking less terrified for next time. Please."

  "You wouldn't understand," West muttered.

  Not Noah with his glittery eyeliner and pink and blue floral shirt. Eye catching wasn't even the half of it. When he was in the room people stared. Hell, he made it worthwhile to stare. Slept in hair and a lazy smile, taking up space like it was his right. West wanted to strangle him for jealousy.

  They tried a few more angles, but Noah's responses kept getting more and more surly and West had lost hope long before Noah ever set aside his camera and called the session to an end. West left feeling defeated.

  He didn't know why. He didn't even want to be a model. But for some reason he didn't want to disappoint Noah either. Disappointing him felt like a personal failing, a tragedy in the making. There was no logic or explanation other than the way the sight of Noah's smile fluttered in West's chest. He craved it. Even if he didn't want to.

  West trudged down to his car. His phone lit up with an incoming text as he slid into the driver's seat. He'd left it in the cup holder while he was at the studio. It was easier to be who he needed to be for Noah if he didn't have his real life interrupting.

  The text was from Charlotte. You on your way? it said.

  Shit. He'd forgotten that he had promised to stop by for dinner tonight. To visit. With Reese.

  West drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared down at the message. It would be so easy to say no. Something unexpected could have come up. Charlotte would believe him. She always did. But that felt cowardly. Not for the first time, West wished he could disappear. How easy it would be if he didn't have to exist. Just for a little while.

  He'd had a taste of that the first time he sat for Noah. He didn't have to think or feel. Only do. He wasn't West then. He was moldable clay. Willing flesh waiting to be transformed. He wanted that feeling back, to let himself vanish into it for just a little while. To rest.

  But it hadn't worked today. He couldn't forget himself like he'd wanted because he was too busy remembering the camera. He liked it best when he couldn't see it. That way he didn't have to think about what it could see or what it would let other people see about him. He could be anonymous. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, maybe without them he was soulless. Empty. A vessel waiting to be filled. Not West. Anyone else.

  His hand tightened on his phone as an idea bloomed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  But Don't Overthink It

  Noah fished the ringing phone from his pocket as he stood in line to get his coffee. The Beast's animated face was splash
ed across the screen, but Noah didn't have to look at it or the phone number showing beneath to know who was calling. That was the beauty of custom ringtones.

  "Hey," Noah said as he answered. His heart rate was already skyrocketing in anticipation of what Liam might want to talk to him about. Liam was safer than mom. He had a whole slew of reasons to call Noah and only a few of them were catastrophes in progress. Usually he was just checking in.

  Liam had always been the sturdy one. The dependable son. Noah's touchstone in a world that rarely made sense and slipped away like dust in a fan. Sometimes he'd been jealous of how much easier things seemed to be for his brother, how much smoother the tracks of his life had been laid, by their parents and his brain chemistry and life in general.

  But that was a shitty feeling to have. So, he'd opted to pretend that he didn't occasionally dream of snatching up Liam's life and running from the goalposts with it.

  "Relax. I just called to see how you're doing," Liam said. There was a faint note of laughter in his voice. Weird.

  "You know telling me to relax really doesn't help at all, right?" It was true. The damage was already done. Noah's heart beat quick time and showed no signs of slowing in the near future.

  Liam ignored the comment. "When's your gallery show? I wanted to put it on my calendar."

  "What? Why? No." Goodbye, healthy blood pressure. The reminder of his approaching show and how little time he had left to prepare was the last thing he needed right now. Not after the disastrous last session with West. He'd barely slept afterwards, up all night trying to troubleshoot problems he barely understood himself. Had the room been too cold? Too warm? Had West remembered they were enemies of circumstance? What was this weird energy between them and how did he fix it?

  "What do you mean, no? You told me to come."

  "I was joking. I didn't think you were actually gonna show."

  "Of course I would. You're my baby brother."