AllFreeNovel
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“Um, hey, you,” I say, uncharacteristically unsure of myself. Will we still have the strong connection we had last night or was it just a moment in time?
“Hey to you,” he replies with a smile, stuffing the envelope in his pocket. “I was going to text you, to let you know I was ready and was nearby. And if I had to wait, I thought I could walk around the studio and take a look at all your pieces. Maybe get some inspiration.”
“Well, funny thing, I’m here.” I tug at his belt loops, bringing him closer to me. “I need to show something to Kate; can you give me five minutes?” I ask, placing a kiss on his forehead.
“Sure, of course.” His phone begins to ring, and he brings it to his line of sight. It’s a picture of a young, attractive, red-headed woman. “Good timing. It’s my sister. I’ll wait. Take your time.”
I grab for him again and kiss his lips. It’s gentle, and as soon as I touch his mouth, I pull back, or we could be here awhile. “I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper.
“Me, too,” he replies. “See you soon.” He walks away but I hear him answering the phone. “Tia? Hey, little sis. What’s up?”
I love that he’s as close to his sister as I am to my brother. I make a mental note never to introduce my brother to his sister, if we continue to see each other. And sure as fuck, it’s what I hope. My heart hurts thinking of never kissing him again. What is he doing to me?
Retreating to Kate’s office, I knock on the open door. “Hey, can I come in?”
“Of course,” she answers, and I shut the door behind us. “This must be serious, but first: I didn’t hook the two of you up to start a relationship. You break each other’s hearts, and my inventory will suffer. So, be warned—I’ll hurt you.”
It’s hard to take her threats seriously, because she’s not quite five feet tall, and has to get her clothes specially made since the smallest size is always too big.
A wicked grin crawls over my face.
“Don’t laugh at me, Noah James,” she threatens.
“You ever meet someone, Kate, and you can’t describe the connection, the chemistry, or attraction? It’s how I felt the first time I saw him. I don’t do relationships typically. I haven’t been looking for something, but I know I can’t get Ashton Brooks out of my mind. It’s not my intention to fuck this up for any of us.”
“Holy fuck. You’re human, after all.” She drops a pen that had been in her hand, and her countenance changes. “So, do you have something for me?” She points to my canvas carrier.
“I probably won’t sell it, but I wanted your opinion. It’s rough, but give me your expert advice anyway.”
I unzip the carrier and pull out my charcoal sketch. Who knows if this is the end product, but charcoal tends to be my go-to when I sketch.
I set the heavy paper on top of the desk, and her jaw drops.
“I know it’s not what I typically do, but it still has a level of abstractness to it…”
“Holy fuck! And you don’t want to sell it? Tell me right fucking now why you’d not sell this. You could get top dollar.”
“Well,” I start, raking my fingers through my hair. “It’s special, something for me, and given I don’t share much with the public concerning my private life, I’m not ready to share Ash. This sketch of him is from memory, the way my mind took him in.”
Kate chews her lower lip, staring at the picture. “Well, shit. I can’t argue with you. I get it. But use this technique with things you can share with the public, Noah. People will go crazy over it.”
“Let me think on it.” It’s not a bad idea. I’m always looking at ways to keep my art fresh. “It was inspired by Ashton. I’m not ready to show him, but I will. Can you keep this for now, and we’ll talk about it later? Is that fair enough?”
“Yeah, and, Noah? Have fun tonight. Don’t break that boy’s heart.”
I’m just as afraid of breaking my own.
* * *
I’m aboutto share something I hold near to me, for only the second time in my life. And it seems right.
“We could drive, but it’s only a five-minute walk.” I’ve not let go of his hand as we exit the studio. He’s still what society would deem a complete stranger, but some part of me feels I’ve known him forever. I grab for a bag out of my car I packed for tonight.
He’s quiet as the day turns to a perfect early evening. I don’t take the silence as anything bad, because his hand is still in mine.
“You cold?” He has on a heavier coat. After all, it’s the end of February in Seattle. His collar is pushed up around his neck, protecting the skin from the harshness of one of the most brutal winters in the Pacific Northwest.
“Nah, I’m good.”
