Page 21 of Chasing Me

“You’re never late,” he said.“When you say eight, you always mean eight.Why do you and Brian seem cozied up?What’s really going on?”

“Nothing!He’s just being nice to me, and it’s all about work.”A tiny sliver of guilt pierced through me, but I didn’t want to say anything about a touch when it probably meant nothing.It would only make matters worse, and I couldn’t have James upsetting my chance for the full-time job.

“You could’ve called me to pick you up.”

“It was just faster!I swear, I didn’t want this to happen.I was looking forward to seeing you tonight.”

His face hardened.“But not enough, right?”

I went over to him and reached out, but he jerked back.Oh, boy, this was bad.I had to get him to understand.“James, I want this job.I thought you supported this.”

“For God’s sake, I’ve been supporting you endlessly!I want you to have it all, but lately, I feel like a fucking pity case, like I’m at the bottom of your list.We haven’t talked or had a date or even fucked in a while.So, I’m asking again, what the hell is going on?”

My temper snapped.I was tired, stressed, and didn’t need a jealous boyfriend making me feel guilty.“You’re not a pity case.You’re the man I love!Is it so hard to just be patient for a while?Everything is happening at once, and I just need some damn space!”

Silence fell between us.I bit my lip.That hadn’t come out right.“I didn’t mean—”

“Fuck this.You want space?I’ll give you as much as you need.Let me know when you’re available.”He grabbed his jacket and headed toward the door.

“Don’t leave!James, please.Aren’t you staying over tonight?”

He shook his head and gave me a hard look.“You have a paper to write, remember?Call me when I’m not in the way.”

The door slammed.

I fisted my hands.Tears burned my lids.What was happening to us?Why did I say such things when all I wanted was to be held in his arms?I went over to the table and opened up the envelope.The card was simple, a sketched-out caricature of a couple holding hands, sitting on a wall, watching a sunset.I opened it up and found the simple scrawl.

It’s always been you, and always will be.Love, James.

I gripped the card tight between my fingers and vowed I’d fix everything.

Chapter Ten

JAMES

I TRIED TO GET MY HEADtogether when I walked into class.The whole scene with Quinn bothered me, and I hadn’t slept at all last night.Finally, that morning, she’d called me.The moment I heard her voice, I forgave her.I knew we were both handling a lot, but seeing her come home, and that dickhead touching her cheek like he owned her, well, I just lost it.We both apologized and said we’d talk tomorrow night.I just had to work harder at finding more time to be with her.Especially in bed.Giving her multiple orgasms.

Ava was already speaking with one of the other students, so I set up my station.I loved the progress on my newest portrait, and felt solid she would, too.I’d followed the rules and incorporated all the techniques, but added another layer of whimsy I thought made it unique.The new sketch showed a woman after an orgasm, staring at her lover.I had worked hard on capturing that subtle gleam of polished skin after fucking; the softened, slightly bruised lips, the touch of wonderment and satisfaction in her eyes.I’d studied Quinn’s face time and time again and would never get bored trying to capture the essence of her sexuality.It haunted me, pushing me to get it on paper.

Heels clicked and stopped behind me.The earthy scent of musk that reminded me of sex drifted to my nostrils.I felt Ava’s scorching gaze take in my portrait, and my gut clenched.Ever since our conversation at the art store, I thought maybe she’d change her attitude toward me.Instead, she spent our last session treating me like shit, as if she’d never admitted I had raw talent.

I waited for a well-earned compliment, or something to tell me I wasn’t wrong about thinking my portrait was damn good, but she never spoke, just moved on without another word.

Forget it.I’d never let her break me, or doubt myself with her games.I refused to give her that type of power.

“We’re starting clean today,” she announced.Her smart, red suit was a shock of brilliance in the gloomy, shadowed room.I guessed she’d run out of black this morning.No natural light shone through the windows today.It was just another dark, stormy day in Chicago.“I want you to use what we’ve been working on with the anatomy.Jason, will you come in here, please?”

A guy walked in.Young, clean-shaven head, dark eyes.He was tall, lean, with big feet and hands.He wore a white robe.He seemed not to give a crap that a roomful of art students were staring at him, and would not only paint but analyze every inch of his body over the next few days.He stood with a subtle arrogance and power I recognized.I’d never sketched a nude male before and promised myself I’d go for it, not allowing any societal barriers or embarrassment to block my creative energy.

“Class, this is Jason.You may take your position, please.”

He shrugged off the robe.I got the impression of lean strength, a mass of dark, curly body hair, and a dick that would probably be pretty damn big if he was aroused.Thank God he wasn’t.He lowered himself to the chair, stretching out his legs, propping his fist on his face in a pose resembling the Thinker, then stared out the window at something we couldn’t see.

“I want to see a mingling of reality and intellectuality in this assignment.I want to own that look on his face, and at the same time feel as if I could reach out and touch the muscles on his body.Begin.”

It took me a while to get out of my own head, but when I entered that free zone, I was off and flying.My fingers sketched until my muscles cramped, and the hours passed with just a few water breaks.I was on a kind of high as the afternoon wore on, until those red heels snapped their way to my station and a cold, mocking voice rose in the air.

“Are you afraid of a penis, Mr.Hunt?”

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