Page 39 of Hard Rock Deceit
August sounded doubtful, but he followed me up the fire escape stairs anyway. It was a good thing he'd changed into jeans after the concert. As safe as the building was, our clothes weren't safe from the dust andgrime.
"Don't suppose there's a working elevator?" heasked.
"You'd really trust an elevator in thisbuilding?"
"No," hemuttered.
When we reached the roof without the stairs falling out from beneath us, August let out a relievedbreath.
"Is this really what you do?" he asked. "I'm surprised you haven't plummeted to yourdeathyet."
"It's not that dangerous. Besides, it's worthit.Look."
I pointed outward, towards the city skyline. The nighttime stars twinkled against the dark sky, like precious diamonds nested in a black velvet case. Tall office towers rose up like shining giants. Neon signs glowed like fireflies, so small from thisdistance.
August came to stand beside me. Even in the darkness I could see his face was full of wonder, ofdelight.
"You're right," he said. "It isworthit."
I set my backpack down and pulled my camera from my bag. I was traveling light today. Normally I'd bring my full bag of equipment, but this wasn't a real photoshoot. I was only showing August a small sample of whatIdid.
I checked to make sure the settings were in order and lifted thecamera.
"Smile!"
August turned to lookatme.
"You can't possibly see my face in thislight."
"I don'tneedto."
I snapped a series of photos, trying different angles. August waited patiently. When I was done, I deleted all but one, keeping a single shot. I held out the camera toshowhim.
The photo was of the city skyline, with August's profile in shadow. Longish wisps of his hair blew in the wind, crisscrossing against the brightlights.
August leaned in, inspecting the photoclosely.
"This is great,"hesaid.
My heart soared at the praise. I'd begun to expect I'd never hear those words from August. I'd been content to simplybegood.
"You're making progress." He gave me a wry smile. "I'm beginning to think you don't need my helpanymore."
My soaring heart stuttered in my chest. A sort of panic hit me with full force. Did August really think I didn't need him any longer? That panic was soon replaced with disquiet. Was that really all this was? Was August spending time with me… touching me… simply because it helpedmyart?
I'd begun to think, or perhaps, come to hope, there was something more growingbetweenus.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Casting my eyes downward to fiddle with my camera strap, I fought to keep my voicesteady.
"I guess all that journaling worked. I used to just express my feelings through my art. Never throughwords."
A gentle hand buried itself in my hair. August tilted my head up. His blue eyes shone in the moonlight, clear andbright.
"Tell me what you're feelingrightnow?"
This time it was a question, not ademand.
I took in a shudderingbreath.
