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“I’d always rather hear the sound of your voice.”
I close my eyes for just a second, the timbre of his voice rumbling through the speaker sending a familiar feeling skittering down my spine.
“But this is just a question that would be faster over the phone,” he continues. “Any chance you have an idea for where we can host this paint night?”
“Seriously?” I ask, laughing quietly.
“Well, technically we have two options: Rusty’s house or my parents’ house. Bellamy said Rusty’s living room is pretty small, and I know for a fact that as cool as my mom is about a lot of things, having people painting in her living room is not one of those things.”
I flop onto my back, thinking it over.
“Um, my shed is smaller than Rusty’s living room, so I can’t offer that. But maybe we could do it in the annex on campus? I mean…nobody should be there on a Sunday night, right?”
Bishop chuckles. “Gabi Ventura. Look at you, breaking the rules.”
I smirk. “I was always a rule breaker.”
“Oh trust me, I remember you and Nicole sneaking little flasks into school dances. Don’t act like I wasn’t there for all that rule-breaking in real life.”
“And you don’t act like you weren’t just as sneaky. There were plenty of times when we ditched class to go make out in your car.”
“Was that really rule-breaking though?” he asks, the teasing lilt to his voice heavy. “I mean, making out at 17 isn’t against the law.”
I snort loudly. “But ditching class is against the rules. Don’t pretend it’s not.”
“Alright, alright. We’re both equal rule breakers. How about that?”
“I can accept that.”
“Good.”
“So, paint party—how many people?” I ask after doing some mental work on what I’d need to move around in my classroom in order to fit a group at a table with a bunch of easels.
“Eight of us. You and me, obviously. Rusty and Bellamy, Emily, Briar, Abby, and Jackson.”
I nod, rolling through everyone he names. I know Emily from school—she and Bellamy and I were in the same grade with Bishop. Abby and Rusty I know from around town, but I’ve never met Abby’s fiancé, Jackson. It’ll be an interesting group, that’s for sure.
“As long as the instructor is bringing all the supplies. I only have 4 easels myself, and I don’t keep any in my classroom.”
“Only four?” Bishop tsks . “Are you really an artist if you have less than a dozen?”
I roll my eyes. “How many bats do you have?”
“Almost 20.”
“You do not.”
“Hand to heaven, I have 18 and a half bats.”
My lips curve. “Who has a half bat?”
“Someone who was very lucky and got to keep a broken bat after his walk-off grand slam at the D2 college baseball championships.”
At that, I smile fully, unable to help myself at the visual. “You won a championship?”
“I did. Two of ’em.”
“Hmm. Well look at you.”
