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She stepped back.
I looked down at the piece of paper and I gasped.
A loud gasp.
Almost a scream.
“Demi,” I said. “When…”
She started to laugh. “It’s a gift of mine. When the mood hits me right.”
Staring back up at me was a sketch of myself. Riff standing in front of me. He and I touching each other. His hands on my hips. And our lips…
“This is risky,” I said to her.
“For whom?” she asked. “Nobody will see this but us.”
“Demi, how did you draw this so fast? And so perfect?”
“As I said, when it happens…”
“I can’t believe how detailed it is,” I said.
A penciled snapshot of the moment Riff and I kissed goodbye.
That soft, sweet and cute kiss goodbye.
His fingers pulling at my hips.
I actually began to feel my hips tingling.
Our lips touching…my lips started to tingle…
It was amazing.
It was sweet.
It was sexy.
I looked at Demi again.
“Oh, Fiona, you’re blushing,” she pointed out.
“I can feel that,” I admitted.
“You like him. You more than like him. You’re in a tricky position, aren’t you?”
“I might be,” I said. “But I’m not looking for any advice on this.”
“I have none to give. I only know what I would do. But we’re different people.”
“What would you do, Demi?” I asked.
She grinned. “I would have that man pinned to a bed and be on top of him for the rest of my life. And I wouldn’t give two fucks who knew about it.”
“I wish it were that easy for me.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I said we’re different people. Enjoy your drawing, Fiona.”
