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Embarrassed—mortified, really—that someone would make a joke at my expense in front of the one man whose opinion I care about, I put my last items in my bag and close it. I hastily stumble away, murmuring something about being in a hurry.
Ezra
"Was it something I said?" Cal asks.
He has to snap in front of my face to get my attention. I’m too busy watching as Beth bolts from the room, her long hair flowing out behind her. The dark brunette strands are usually up in a ponytail or bun for class, and I’m captivated by the rich color of the thick curls.
"Hmm? I'm not really sure. Beth’s a bit shy.”
“That’s Beth?TheBeth?”
Wincing, I try to cover up my interest. I’ve certainly mentioned her more than once, but always in a professional way.
“You never mentioned her being a damn smoke show.What’s her story?”
Turning my attention to my best friend, I shrug. “She can be… skittish, I guess? She doesn't really put herself out there much. Seems to shy away when I try to talk to her."
My mind wanders to the few stolen moments I’ve had with her here and there over the last two years. Despite her being the student I’ve spent the most time with one-on-one, I don’t really know a ton about her aside from her work at The Gregg art gallery. She has an uncanny ability to turn the conversation back on me, or art.
"Hol-ee fuck, Ez. You're into her."
"What? No. She's mystudent."
"One, it's not like you're her high school professor. She's an adult and these are voluntary classes that she signs up for, and could leave at any point. I don't think it's quite as forbidden as you're making it out to be. And two, I call bullshit. I've known you since we were kids. My Da taught you to swim, remember? You were a fecking pussy about that, too."
I roll my eyes and laugh. We’ve always teased each other like this. "I hardly think this is the same thing. She’s a sweet girl, and very talented. But even if I were interested, I don’t think she is.”
"Every time you walked near her, she sat up straighter. She blushed every time you spoke in her general direction. And I'm almost positive I saw a shiver when you leaned in close. Speaking of which, what's her hair smell like?"
"Vanil—what?No. That's not fair. It doesn't mean anything."
"Bull. Shite."
Instead of taking the bait and arguing with him, I distract myself by getting ready for the next class. He’s right that I’m interested, but I’d never pursue it. Because, adult or not, she is my student. She comes here to be taught and to indulge a mutual love of art, not to be ogled. Besides that, it’s not as if I haven’t attempted to get to know her better and drop subtle hints, but she keeps me at arm’s length. I’m not about to start hitting on someone if I’m not positive they’d be okay with it. I’m not trying to make her uncomfortable, the way my best friend so obviously did today.
"That's my only life drawing class, so you're off the hook now, Cal. Thanks for subbing in though. You honestly saved the day."
"Out of the goodness of my own heart, and because I got more than my fair share of entertainment out of it, I'm going to forgive you for tricking me into this bullshit. But you fucking owe me."
I try to hold back my amusement. Imighthave forgotten to mention that this was a nude figures class when I begged him to step in and save me last minute. His expression when class started, and I handed him a robe to go change into, was priceless. The man has no shame, though, so I knew he’d do it once he finished staring daggers at me. Which he did until he caught sight of Beth.
"Anything you want, Cal. You deserve it."
"Alright… I want to ask out the babe."
My heart lurches. "Beth?"
He nods slowly, studying my reaction. Keeping my faceimpassive, I shrug him off, but give him a stern warning.
"You do you, Cal. But she's a good person."
"What does that feckin' mean?" He asks, ramping up the normally barely perceptible Irish accent. It normally only comes out much if he's drunk, pissed, or caught off guard.
"You know what I mean."
"Do I?"
"You tend to be a love 'em and leave 'em type, Cal. I'm not sure she deserves that."
