Page 25 of Perfectly Imperfect Us
“Hey! I said turn around!”
I shook my head, wishing I actually hadn’t seen the smooth tan skin that led to a bright pink lacy bra that would now be burned forever into my brain.
“Sorry. I don’t follow directions well, I guess.”
“Mhmm.” I heard clothes rustling and then she added, “Okay, done. You can turn around now.”
I did, getting another image to burn into my brain. Ava, standing there without a drop of makeup on, my T-shirt the only thing covering every silky inch of skin my palms itched to touch.
Calling her beautiful seemed a massive understatement.
And getting myself under control became a monumental effort.
10
Ava
A pleasant tickling on my scalp woke me up, the sun already shining through the hotel windows. I blinked open my eyes to see a half-naked Ryder sitting on the side of my bed, his fingers running through my hair as he watched me. My stomach melted into a puddle with the care he showed by being gentle. And maybe the muscles he had on display had something to do with it too.
“Good morning,” he whispered, his voice as rough as his face with the overnight scruff that had grown in.
His touch had me awake far faster than any cup of coffee would. We’d been up most of the night talking from our beds, laughing, sharing, and connecting. I should be exhausted, but instead, I felt exhilarated. Like I could take on the world with just the power of whatever magic flowed through my veins and had my heart thumping in my chest.
“Morning, sunshine,” I whispered back. “What a nice way to wake up.”
I resisted the automatic urge to pull the sheets up higher and cover my face. The morning sun would highlight each splotch of pale skin, making it impossible to hide. With the way Ryder gazed at me, his icy eyes melting as he took in my naked face, I faced my fears head on. Only five people in the whole world saw me without makeup: my parents and my three best friends. And now I could add Ryder to that list.
An overwhelming sense of gratitude for making me feel at home in my skin flooded my system, making me search my brain for ways to thank him. Ways to be there for him like he was for me. Just a week ago I wouldn’t have even considered showing my face to anyone, let alone a hot guy with a jawline that made women pant, and yet here he was, making me feel more myself, more comfortable in my own skin than anyone ever had. How in the world had I gotten here? How did I get so lucky to have Ryder interested in me?
I lifted my hand and moved his hair away from his eyes, those unruly strands such a signature Ryder look I couldn’t imagine him with a shorter haircut. I traced a finger along his temple, down his jaw to his chin, letting the short beard scrape against my skin. I should have stopped there, but once on the move, my finger couldn’t stop until it reached the ultimate destination: Ryder’s lips. That mouth had been the subject of a few thousand viral threads on social media. Women loved Ryder Steele’s pouty lips, but none of them knew their real talent.
The way he spoke words that hit you right in your soul.
He pursed his lips and kissed the pad of my finger, then moved back and stood. My hand dropped to the mattress, sad to see him go, but just as happy that my eyes got to view him from head to toe. No wonder he was a photographer’s dream.
Ryder cleared his throat and tossed his hair out of his eyes. “We should probably get back before I step over that imaginary line we drew last night.”
I laughed and sat up in bed, pushing the covers down. “You mean the one you just trampled on when you came over here like a creeper and watched me sleep?”
He had the decency to look sheepish. “It was only for a minute.” His gaze danced away. “Or like ten. It wasn’t long.”
I pushed my hair out of the way, a big smile permanently etched across my face. I grabbed my phone off the bedside table. “Got any more photography sessions lined up? I’d love to go with you sometime.”
“Actually, do you mind if I take one of you right now?” Ryder came back to the side of the bed with his camera. “With the light streaming in, it would make an excellent shot.”
Alarm bells instantly rang in my head, the idea of documenting my vitiligo something that didn’t happen outside of my own cell phone for medical purposes of following its progression.
Ryder sat down on my bed. “I swear to you, Ava, no one will ever see these images but me.”
Maybe it was the way his steady gaze never left mine, or the way he was so in tune with how I felt about my skin since he found out, but I couldn’t say no. I nodded slowly, wondering again just how I’d gotten here, comfortable with Ryder taking my picture without makeup on. He began to murmur to me, giving instructions and reassurances, the camera clicking away while he moved around me. The whole while I focused on the reverent expression on his face and his soothing words, finding that even as I felt fear move through me, there was also exhilaration. I hadn’t trusted someone with my secret in so long, it felt like flying off that cliff into the water below, the thrill of finally flying making the fear worth it.
“Thank you, Ava.” Ryder sat down on the bed, his fingers sifting through my hair, the camera at rest on the bedside table. “I love that you trust me.”
The rest of the world faded away and it was just Ryder and me on a fluffy hotel bed, the newness of whatever this was between us making us both crazy. He leaned down and I happily reached up, pulling him to me so he could kiss the thoughts right out of my brain. The thoughts that said I would never be enough for him. That he and I were simply a summer fling that would burn out at the first sign of fall if not sooner. As the fire between us burned brighter with each press of his lips it seemed reasonable to think we’d simply burn out eventually. Something this hot couldn’t possibly last.
“Ava,” he whispered, his lips still so close they brushed mine. “You gotta push me away.”
A bubble of laughter escaped, the perfect way to cool things off between us. Of course, only Ryder would be in the middle of ravaging me and then be the perfect gentleman. Every interaction with him cemented the idea that social media and the paparazzi had him all wrong this whole time.
