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She shook her head, biting back a smile. “Not really.”
“Her lips were pretty sealed when it came to you, I gotta say,” Ivo continued, leaning back against another table near the pottery wheel, “but she did tell me you’re here for school and that you specialize in pottery.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say specialize.” As the wheel started to spin beneath her, she quickly wet her hands in the bowl by the base of her chair and got to work on the general shaping. “I know how to do it, and I get graded on it, I guess.”
She was being modest, of course, but Alani wasn’t anywhere near good enough to consider herself a specialist. Ivo was just looking for ways to flatter her that didn’t involve him digging up intel behind her back. Not that she minded him trying to find a way to make up for being such a jerk that night at her apartment, but she wished he’d gotten to know her through her. But that time had come and gone.
“So, I’m going to take one last shot at this,” Ivo started, drawing in one deep breath and letting it out when she looked up at him. “There’s an exhibit on Native American pottery in Carlstown. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go with me to see it?” He paused, seeming to realize something—judging by the crease in his brow. “I mean, if you haven’t already gone, that is.”
“I haven’t,” Alani admitted. She had heard of the exhibit through some of her social media sleuthing, but she hadn’t found a reason to drive all the way out to Carlstown yet. It seemed a daunting task, frankly, and she had preferred to just sit and do her work. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with someone to keep her company.
As a slight punishment for his past behavior, Alani kept him dangling, molding and shaping her work as the wheel turned beneath her hands. Faster and faster, she fell into a familiar rhythm, yet on the cusp of losing herself, she realized she’d been silent for a little too long.
“I’d love to see it,” she admitted, her voice brighter, then pinned him with a narrowed look as a smile crept across his face, “but only if this Ivo is the one to take me. I wasn’t a big fan of those other Ivos I’ve met in the past.”
“Deal.” He held out a large hand as if to shake hers, and then let it fall to his side when she glanced down at her clay-covered hands. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she insisted, her body clenching at the rather lovely shade of red that appeared on his cheeks. The color was fleeting, there one moment and gone the next, but she appreciated a guy who was at least a little affected by her. “When did you want to go?”
“We can work around your schedule,” he told her. “I’m game anytime.”
Alani nibbled her lower lip, mind flying through all she had to get done in the next week, sifting through her responsibilities until she could find a date that actually worked. “Next Sunday? I’ve got a few pieces due that I need to complete and ship to my professor before then.”
“Then… it’s a date.”
Now it was her turn to blush. Alani cleared her throat and went back to her work, smiling and nodding. “It’s a date.”
She half-expected him to scuttle out of the room now that he’d achieved what he came there to do, but Ivo stayed planted where he was, leaning back on the display table with his arms crossed.
His silence had an oddly calming effect on her while she worked—which was the complete opposite of what Alani would have expected. Normally she hated when people watched her create; it threw off her groove to have an audience. But now that they had buried the hatchet, sort of, Ivo’s presence in the studio gave her a strange focus that she’d been missing before, like him hovering pushed all the other thoughts away. Like his silence gave her mind permission to rest and just work.
Unexpected, yes, but Alani welcomed the feeling.
But after a while, it felt unfair to keep him standing there, just staring, so she looked up and drew a breath to speak, but he beat her to it.
“It’s mesmerizing,” he admitted softly, “watching you work. I didn’t expect that at all, but I could watch your hands all day.”
The heated flush surged back; warming her cheeks to the point it burned. She rubbed her shoulder on one absently, like that would hide her blushing.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be forward again,” Ivo added hastily, to which she shook her head.
“You’re not. I just didn’t want you to feel like I was ignoring you.”
“Hey, I interrupted your studio time,” he argued with a chuckle, hands up. “Ignore me all you want.”
But she couldn’t—not anymore. Nibbling her lower lip for a moment again, Alani slowed the wheel and pushed her chair back. “Did you want to try?”
Ivo’s eyebrows crinkled together. “Try what?”
“Making pottery,” she clarified with a laugh. “You seem so interested in watching me… Why don’t you give it a try?”
His lips parted briefly, only to press back together as he straightened up and looked toward the door. Maybe she’d misread him. Maybe he was just looking for a way to escape a situation where he wasn’t comfortable. Shaking her head, she cleared her throat, about to tell him that he didn’t have to try anything, of course, but he silenced her with a smile.
“Sure. Why not?”
For some reason, the eager glint in his eye made her giddy. She turned away to clean her hands, not wanting him to see just how much his readiness touched her, then stood.
“Take a seat. You might get a little dirty…”
