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"Definitely," I agree, guiding her to the door.
"Ohmigod," Love squeals when she spots the sign for the painting class. "You didn't!"
"Yes, we did," Riggs assures her.
"We made sure it's safe," I say, clearing my throat. "They said it's a very low risk, especially considering how far along you are. No tipping the brush. Whatever the hell that means… but otherwise, you're good to go."
Love grins, tossing herself into my chest. "This is amazing."
"What's tipping?" Riggs asks, holding the door and nodding for us to go on in.
"It's a very bad habit that a lot of painters, including myself, use when using watercolors," Love says, kissing his cheek on our way by.
We're greeted by a young guy who's probably in his late twenties. Objectively speaking, he's not a bad-looking guy. He introduces himself as Bryce, and Riggs looks like he might rip the guy's head off.
"Whoa, you're Love McKinley," Bryce says. "I'm a big fan. I own one of your paintings. My mom brought it back when she went to Tennessee last year."
Love snorts a laugh.
"Thank you," she says, swiping a hand through the air. She looks up at me. "Did you pay him to say that? Because this has literally never once happened to me."
"Hell no," Riggs says, scoffing.
"No, honestly," Bryce says. "If my roommate is home, I'll get him to send a picture. It's in our living room."
Love laughs. "It's fine, I believe you."
"It's one of your pop art pieces," Bryce says.
"All right, back to the class?" Vince says.
Riggs looks like he might take a swing at poor Bryce if he doesn't shut the fuck up immediately.
"Oh, yeah. Do you want to pick from the book?" Bryce asks, grabbing a large album off the counter. "Or you're talented as hell you could probably just free paint…"
"Yeah, let's do that. No instructor needed, right?" Vince asks.
"Uh…" Bryce swallows thickly as Riggs crosses his arms across his chest. "I've got to be in the room."
Love snorts a laugh, grabbing each of our hands. "You know what? Thank you so much for your time, but I spotted an ice cream parlor on the way in and my boyfriend is getting hangry."
She yanks us toward the door. "Thank you, have a good night," she calls over her shoulder.
Once we're out the door she leans up on her toes, kissing the hell out of Vince. "You're so damn cute when you're jealous."
Vince smirks. "You just wanted ice cream, didn't you?"
Love shrugs. "This was very sweet, but honestly, the more I thought about sitting on one of those wooden chairs the more my hips ached… Can we do dessert and go home?"
She glances between us.
I grin. "Yeah, sorry, darlin'... I tried."
She spins, leaning her body into mine. "It's the thought that counts. Honestly, I'm the one who should be sorry. I usually have more energy." She shrugs. "This baby is kicking my ass."
I laugh, pulling her to me for a soft kiss. "I should have realized…"
"We're all a little too worried about apologizing. Let's get some fucking ice cream and go home," Vince says, pointing to the ice cream parlor on the corner.
