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That had me laughing, and go figure, laughing with this guy.
He continued to watch, and I noticed his sketchpad at his side. I stopped painting. “Can I see what you do?”
Eyeing me, he took a beat, but eventually, he raised it for me to see. I might have hit a nerve there. Artists could be touchy about showing their work, and this guy was nothing but a loose cannon anyway.
And had absolutely no reason to be.
Cars. He liked to sketch cars, boats. He even had a few motorcycles.
“I do some designing,” he said. He shifted on his shoes. “Actually, yeah. Designing. It’s my thing.”
Puffing up, he was kind of looking uncomfortable talking about it or at least showing me. Again, he was an artist, so I got that.
“These are good,” I said, no lie there. They were fabulous and so realistic. He had people in his sketchpad too, portraits. I turned the page, hoping to see more of them. Mallick surprisingly had an eye for realism I’d never seen before.
“Okay, little,” he stated, stopping me. He took his pad back, and apparently, didn’t want to show me more.
I did get that being an artist. I had work myself that would never see the light of day in my own sketchpads.
“You’re very talented.” I wasn’t trying to stroke his ego, facts.
Ares closed the pad. “Thanks. I do a lot of geometric work too. I try to put it into my designs when I can.”
“What are you trying to do with it?” I asked. “Your art.”
“Design school is first.” He dropped an arm on the shelf that housed all the watercolor paints. “Actually, that’s what my senior project is. I’m going to use it for my applications.”
That was cool. I figured I’d just do an essay for mine. We just needed it to graduate, and since I hadn’t thought about going to college, doing anything more than that hadn’t crossed my mind.
“I could use some help with it,” he said, stealing my attention. His eyes narrowed. “This piece has gotten a little bit away from me, and it’d be nice to have the assistance. I’m still in the design phase, but I can tell it’s going to be too much for one person to meet my deadline.”
“Wait.” Was he asking me to help? “Are you asking me to help you out?”
His stare didn’t let up. “I guess I am. Like I said, it’s too much for one person, and what you’re doing with these galaxies flows with what I’m trying to do.”
I wondered what that was, but I wondered even more why he was asking me of all people. He didn’t trust me. Hell, he couldn’t stand me. “Why are you asking me? I thought I couldn’t be trusted.”
“Lucky for you, what does or doesn’t come out of your mouth has nothing to do with how well you can paint.” His jaw ticked. “Which is decent. Even if I don’t want to admit it.”
Shit, he was honest. Like a fucking slap-in-the-face honest.
His hand slid in his pocket. “Anyway, if you decide to commit, you’ll get credit for your own senior project.” He shrugged. “You can even use the piece on your applications of wherever you decide to go for college.”
That sounded really good and was another thing I wouldn’t have to think about. I had enough on my mind these days. I shifted on my stool. “What about Dorian?”
He messed with his curls. “What about him?”
I twitched. “Won’t he be pissed you asked me to help?”
His thick eyebrows knitted. “Well, I guess it’s good things between my friends and I have nothing to do with you. You and I are working together. And as far as you’re concerned, that’s all you need to worry about.”
Fuck, this guy was a literal nightmare and definitely didn’t give a shit about me.
And his words stung more than I wanted to admit.
In fact, so much so that I was considering working with the asshole. Why should I care about what Dorian thinks about what I do? He didn’t care about me. At least, not enough to listen to me. He’d just left.
My mouth moved. “When would we start?”
