Page 54 of If You Stayed

I stood back, watching the interaction between the two. She seemed embarrassed by her emotions, but I didn’t think that was anything to be shy about. I found it refreshing—how someone could feel so much, so deeply.

Kierra had a lot going on in her life. It wasn’t shocking that tears found their way down her cheeks often. She was in a season of hardship. Hell, she’d just found another woman’s jewelry in her bedsheets. I’d be a bit off-kilter, too. I just felt glad that she allowed her tears to fall around me. As if I were some kind of safe place for her to feel the deepest of feelings.

She stood and rubbed her arms up and down. She smiled my way and wiped her tears before crossing her arms. “He’s a sweetheart.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“I’m so happy for you, Gabriel. I’m so happy that you have this life and Bentley.”

I smiled and gestured toward the two chairs with the drawing tables set up. “Do you want to sketch with me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wine?”

“Absolutely,” she repeated.

I walked inside and grabbed two glasses, a bottle of red wine, and a sweatshirt because I saw Kierra slightly shivering.

She slid on the sweatshirt—so big that she swam in it—andthanked me as I poured her wine. She opened her sketchbook, and I was stunned by her drawings.

“Fashion designs?” I asked, taking my seat.

“Yeah. I used to want to be a fashion designer.”

“How does one go from wanting to be a fashion designer to becoming a therapist?”

“I ask myself that all the time.” She paused and shrugged. “I guess I wanted to do something that helped people feel better.”

“Great clothes can do that—a confidence boost of sorts.”

“True, but after I went through something hard, I turned to therapy. It helped me so much that I wanted to help others. I still design pieces for Ava. Most of the stuff you’ve seen her wearing was made by me.”

“No way. That’s amazing, Kierra. These designs are amazing. I see where Ava gets her sketching talent.”

She laughed. “She’s a million times better than me.”

We began drawing as we listened to the water crashing against the shore. There were periods of time when we were silent, yet that didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. It just felt…right. There was something so welcoming about a peaceful silence. I hated forced conversation.

Every now and then, I’d catch Kierra looking my way out of the corner of my eye, and I didn’t know why, but when she looked at me, my whole body heated up.

“Okay, drawing-hand break. Time for a game,” she said, placing her drawing pencil down. “Two truths and a lie.”

I put my pencil down, laced my fingers together, and stretched my arms in the air. “Game on. You first.”

“I am deathly afraid of roller coasters. I played softball all through high school. I won a whistling competition.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t whistle for shit.”

She arched an eyebrow, seemingly stunned by my pick. Then she licked her lips multiple times, puckered her lips together, and blew. And not a damn whistle came out. Only the sound of her blowing air.

I chuckled at the worst attempt at whistling I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay, not a professional whistler,” she confessed. “Your turn.”

I rubbed my palm against my chin. “I’m allergic to shellfish, I don’t like peanut butter at all, and I used to smoke cigarettes.”

“Easy, you never smoked.”

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