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“Beck hired Abbie to paint you something,” Jett said, cutting her off.
“Really?” Roxy beamed at her. “I’m obsessed with the pieces of yours Beck has shown me. You’re so talented.”
Abbie’s face flushed. “You think so?”
“Oh yeah. I think all my friends would love your work, too. If you’re ever open to selling them?—”
“Let’s just see if you like this piece first,” Abbie muttered.
Jett’s hands returned to her shoulders. His breath was warm as he leaned down, whispering, “No putting yourself down, little girl.”
“I wasn’t.” She glanced up at him, but he just hummed in a way that told her he didn’t believe her in the slightest.
“I’m excited!” Roxy clapped her hands together, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Can you take that cover off? I wanna see it!” Beck laughed under his breath, sounding so much like Jett Abbie had to look over her shoulder at him to make sure he hadn’t been the one to do it.
Her stomach was in knots as Beck gripped the cover. His eyes met hers, a wider grin spreading as he yanked on it. The cream-colored fabric fell to the floor, pooling along the baseboard.
Then there it was. Her painting.
She took a deep breath as she stared at it, at the strokes of colors, the highlights and shadows—everything that made it up. It was…better than she remembered. Probably her best work ever.
It was an overgrown garden, flowing with all of Roxy’s favorite flowers and plants. Bees buzzed, birds chirped—well, she imagined they did that inside the painting. There was a stone path that led to a small pond, and there, crouched beside it running her fingers through the water, was Roxy.
Not Roxy Bandera the rockstar, but Roxy the woman. Roxy the human. She didn’t wear her bright makeup or skin-tight clothes. Instead, she wore something similar to what she was wearing now. A loose-fitting dress that swayed around her knees, and she was barefoot.
Her bandmates stood in various places around the painted garden, all facing her, all watching over her. Beck had told her they were like a family, and they all loved Roxy more than life itself. When he’d told her that, she knew she had to add them all to the painting.
She knew Roxy’s paradise wouldn't be complete without her men. It was a surprise even to Beck, and he stumbled back a step, his lips parting as he stared at it.
When no one said anything and the silence stretched on longer than she would’ve liked, she cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably. But Jett’s hands were a comforting weight on her shoulders, grounding her. Kind of.
She still wanted to bolt and hide, but watching Roxy and Beck take everything in made her smile. She didn’t think they hated it, not with the way Roxy swatted at her eyes and Beck wrapped his arm around her.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, still staring at the garden. Jett’s hands tightened encouragingly, and Abbie smiled up at him. She’d never seen him look so proud. “You really painted this?” Roxy turned toward her, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy.
“I did,” she said softly. “I—um—I know we didn’t talk about adding people?—”
“It’s perfect,” Beck interrupted, looking at her. “Perfect, Abs. Thank you.”
A smile curved her lips and she dropped her gaze to the ground. She was still freaking out that her work would be hanging in Roxy’s house for any and everyone to see. But she was proud of it—despite thinking she’d panicked herself into a heart attack.
Roxy threw her arms around Abbie and hugged her close. Jett let her go just enough to hug the other woman, squeezing tightly. “Happy birthday,” she said, and Roxy let out a breathy laugh.
She pulled away, keeping her hands on Abbie’s shoulders. “I hope you know you’re about to be working nonstop.” She tilted her head, confused. “Once everyone sees this, they’re all going to want their own pieces by you.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” Abbie waved her off, smiling shyly. But Roxy’s hands tightened, not letting her go.
“I mean it,” she said firmly. “Take a deep breath, because your career is about to blow up.”
She stared at Roxy for a long moment, then she let go and moved to Beck. They stared at the painting together, pointing out things they hadn’t noticed before. Turning, she looked up at Jett.
“Hear that, pretty girl?” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. “You’re about to blow up.”
A mix of excitement and anxiety twisted her stomach. She didn’t know if it would even happen, and even if it didn’t, she was just happy someone thought her art was good enough to blow up.
She smiled up at Jett, and he brushed her hair away from her face. “Think you can handle that?” she teased.
“When it comes to you, I can handle anything.”
She wrapped her arms around his broad waist and rested her head on his chest. His hold on her tightened, and he leaned down, pressing another long kiss to the top of her head.
“Don’t know what I did to get so lucky.”
“You answered an ad on Gregslist,” she told him, and she felt him smile against her hair. “Love you.”
“Love you, pretty girl.”
The End
the end
