Realization hit me like a ton of bricks. My mouth fell open as Ryan handed me a bottle of water. The coldness trickled from my hand, up my arm, and settled in my chest. Fuck, I was so inconsiderate.
I dropped my voice to a whisper and my eyes to the floor because I was too embarrassed to look at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think before I spoke. That was inconsiderate of me. It makes sense now why you haven’t decorated.”
A whoosh of air sounded beside me as Ryan came to rest his forehead on my shoulder. “It’s alright. I still have shit to work through, but I’m getting there.”
I sighed. “Having nice things won’t make you like them, though.” He squeezed me a bit tighter at that. “God, you must think me insufferable,” I groaned.
Ryan lifted his head and tilted my face to his. “No. You’re allowed to want expensive things. This is a me issue. Not you. You’re perfect. It’s not like you’re out here living in a mansion with a butler and a chef on staff.” He laughed. “Even if you were, I wouldn’t care. You’re you, and I like you the way you are.”
My mood brightened, and my mouth turned mischievous. “Can I pay you to be my chef? The catch is, your uniform is an apron.Onlyan apron.”
Ryan’s laugh boomed, and I wanted to bathe in the sound. He pulled me into his arms. “You wouldn’t have to pay me to be your naked chef.”
With a kiss on my cheek he moved around me, walking backward toward a door to the left. The smirk on his face had me desperately hoping that was the door to his bedroom so I could taste it. Throwing him a wicked grin of my own, I followed him as he turned the knob and flicked on the lights.
My lewd thoughts were dashed but quickly replaced with curiosity as I stepped into Ryan’s studio. A small sofa and table lined the wall, but the majority of the room was taken up by black room dividers.
“This is where the magic happens,” Ryan said. “In the beginning, I only had curtains hung in here, but once things started taking off, I boxed in the space.” He pulled back the cloth panel situated between the wall and the divider that served as the door and stepped through the small opening.
Inside the cramped studio, the walls were lined with foam and a long desk spanned the majority of the wall except for a small section in front of me. Ryan moved a chair back to stand in front of a laptop and other unfamiliar devices perched atop the beige wood to the left. I stepped forward and studied the microphone attached to a large metal stand that had various hinges.
“What’s this for?” I asked, running a finger over the fabric of the circular attachment in front of the mic.
“That’s a pop filter. It reduces the popping sounds that happen when you speak certain letters.”
“That matters?” A hint of embarrassment heated my cheeks at my cluelessness.
“It does. It can cause the track to be choppy, and I personally find it very annoying when listening to audio that hasn’t been recorded with one.” Ryan moved to the mic stand and demonstrated how it moved. “I can adjust this so I can narrate while standing up or sitting down. If I’m sitting, I just put my laptop, which I read from, on the desk here or if I’m standing, I use the podium,” he explained as he indicated a tall wooden platform to our right.
My gaze snagged on a small rectangular device with a ball of fluff attached to the end sitting on the desk. “What’s that thing?”
“That’s a handheld mic I use to record my social media content. I don’t get into the whole setup for that stuff.” His features turned seductive. “I also use it to record the little voice message you like so much.”
I laughed, heat rising into my cheeks. “I haven’t ever given much thought to what goes into narration. From the looks of all this stuff, it seems much more complex than I thought.”
He chuckled and shifted his focus to a box with a bunch of knobs and dials. “You’re right. It does require more than people think. I control everything with the audio interface here. This is the connection between the microphone and my computer. Volume, output, and a lot of other technical stuff here.”
My lips parted at how knowledgeable he was. The tone of his voice as he talked showed it was more than just a job to him, whether he would admit that or not.
I listened intently as he continued. “I don’t do a lot of finalmastering anymore except for my social media content. All of my narration and voice over jobs are handled through my agent who gets everything finalized by a production company for the customers. I used to do it all, though. It takes a lot of time to master, and having a company do it frees me up for more raw recording.”
Glancing at him sideways, I pretended to keep looking at the switches. “Do you think you will do this long term?”
The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to know every detail of his life. I wanted to know his goals and plans, because I was drawn to him in a way that I couldn’t explain. My soul yearned for his and I realized I was more than addicted. I wanted to meld our spirits until it was impossible to know where I ended and he began.
“I want to do it as long as I keep getting work. Aside from the pleasure aspect I get from it, I enjoy the flexibility with my schedule and the varied day to day. Every book and project are different.”
Silence settled over us in the small space, and I wondered what else Ryan might want in the future. I decided long ago that I was fine being alone in life. My work was my spouse, but I wondered what something different might look like.
Ryan’s job and kinks didn’t bother me. I wasn’t so antiquated that I cared if he looked at other women or even got off to them. My apprehension stemmed from the fact that he might not want anything serious. Even after the short time I had known him, I knew in my gut this wasn’t just going to be a fling for me. What was it going to be for him?
Ryan ran his hands through his hair and sighed, a bit of awkwardness creeping in the air. “I better get to it. Do you want to chill on the couch or in the living room?”
I shrugged off the weird feelings. “Can I watch at somepoint? I want to see you work your voice sorcery that makes women come apart at your words.”
“Sure. I do have to warn you though, you’ll be bored in no time.”
I grinned. “Oh, I highly doubt that, sir. I don’t think bored is anything I’ll ever be when I’m with you. Plus, how many people get to say they have watched their favorite narrator at workin the flesh?”
