Just when I’m contemplating whether I should go after her and apologize, she comes back. As she walks she juggles one of those huge photo albums, the kind my mom has all of our baby pictures in. Finally she pulls out a photo and hands it to me.
The couple in the picture are wrapped around each other without anything between them. They’re looking deeply into each other’s eyes while making love. The camera’s angle makes it look like I’m right there in the bed with them.
Like all of Josie’s pictures it makes me uncomfortable and excited and … surprisingly envious.
“This wasn’t in your show,” I say finally.
“No. It was too explicit for the show but I had to capture the moment.”
Her finger trails over the image and I shudder as if she’s touched me.
“It’s beautiful, Josie.” It’s completely inadequate as far as description goes but true nonetheless.
“The picture is technically beautiful, yes. But that’s not why I kept this shot. Look at how he’s looking at her.” Her eyes drop to the image again and I can’t miss the wistful tone of her voice.
It’s what I see in her face that makes me look again, trying to see what she sees. Trying to feel what she feels. I want so badly to understand what drives her. To get even a little insight into what makes her happy.
“They look like they’re really in love.”
“That’s because they are. When I was photographing them, even though I was there taking pictures, for them it was like they were alone. Nothing could intrude on the world they created together. It was fascinating to me.”
Her words weave a spell until I’m as caught up as the people in the picture. It feels like we’re in our own little world now as she’s talking and I can’t imagine being anywhere else.
“I want to understand why people are willing to throw away everything for passion. Wars have been fought for this. My art is the only place that I can learn, grow and explore wit
hout other people’s judgments in the way. How else can I understand what I’ve never experienced?”
I’m so enthralled with her, completely mesmerized by the sound of her voice, that the meaning of her words almost don’t register. When they do, my heart starts a wild thump behind my rib cage. Does that mean what I think it means? I almost can’t breathe, the need to find out is so overwhelming.
“What do you mean never experienced?”
My question breaks the tranquil mood around us and her face immediately closes up. She blinks several times and then sits back to put some space between us. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“The hell I’ll forget it.”
She shrinks back but this time I follow. Since she’s sitting with her back against the couch, there’s nowhere for her to go when I put my arm down blocking her in. “All those times with Gabe…”
“All those times were just two friends hanging out. I’ve told you that before.” Even though she looks cornered, her chin lifts defiantly. Like she’s daring me to contradict her.
“You have to understand how hard that is to believe. It’s been years. Years. You’ve been a part of our lives for so long. In the beginning I figured you were just attached to Gabe because he saved you. But you just kept showing up.”
Josie’s hand comes up and settles on my cheek. The entire world could stop spinning in this moment and I wouldn’t know.
“He’s not the one I showed up for,” she whispers.
Then she’s kissing me and all the thoughts in my head disintegrate and my entire being centers on the place where we connect. Her lips are warm and she’s so soft and perfect and in that moment, nothing else matters.
Her mouth opens and her tongue strokes against mine and suddenly I understand all that shit she was saying before. I understand why people would throw away anything for a moment of passion. I understand why wars are fought for this.
Because I’d fight anything to keep her right where she is.
chapter four
†
JOSIE
When we finally break the kiss we’re both breathing hard and Zack looks shaky and slightly frightened. I’m sure I look the same way because it’s how I feel. Disoriented and scared as hell because I didn’t know that it could be like that.