Page 6 of My Life with the Walter Boys
“This is where you’ll be staying,” he said, pushing open a door. Putting my hand on the wall, I searched for the light switch. We found it at the same time, our fingers fumbling over each other’s in the dark. The contact sent a pulse down my arm, and I ripped my hand back in shock. Cole chuckled, but the lights flickered on and a warm glow lit up the room, making me forget my embarrassment.
“Oh wow.”
Every inch of the wall was painted in vivid colors. A mural of a tropical rain forest started on one end of the room, and by the time it wrapped around to the other side, it transformed into an ocean filled with sea creatures. One half of the ceiling was painted to look like the night sky and the other daytime. Even the wooden panels on the ceiling fan had been decorated. I stood, mouth open, and gaped at my new room.
“This was my mom’s art studio,” Cole said.
A large desk was painted as brightly as the rest of the room. On top was a collection of glass jars and coffee mugs that were filled with paintbrushes, charcoal pencils, and markers. A sketchbook was open to a rough-draft sketch of the painting on an easel in the middle of the room. Light brushstrokes covered the canvas, depicting a scene that I recognized from my drive from the airport—the rolling hills of Colorado.
“It’s amazing,” I said, brushing my hand over the edge of the canvas.
“Yeah, she’s kinda awesome with art stuff.” There was an edge to his tone.
Then I noticed a small shelf holding more art supplies that was pushed over to the edge of the room so my single bed could fit inside, and I realized why the boys were upset when Katherine mentioned my sleeping arrangements.
“I’m taking her space.”
“She doesn’t have much time to paint anymore,” Cole said, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his trunks. “Twelve kids and all.”
In other words: yes, I was.
Before I could respond, Will dropped one of my suitcases onto the floor, surprising both of us with a thud. “Come on, Cole,” he said and straightened back up. “Jackie’s got a ton of bags that we need to bring up.”
“I’ll help as soon as I’m done changing,” I offered, not wanting them to do all of my work.
Will dismissed me with a wave of his hand. “Just make yourself at home.”
When they were gone, I shut the door to change, dropping the wet towel that was still wrapped around my shoulders to the floor. This morning I’d made sure an extra set of clothes—tailored pants and a pink shirt with a simple collar—was packed in my carry-on in case of an emergency. After changing, my hair came next. It took me nearly ten minutes of battling with my comb to detangle the knots.
“Hey, you alive in there?” I heard Cole ask as he knocked.
“Give me a moment,” I called and patted down my hair one last time. With my straightener packed away, there was nothing to do about the curls, so I grudgingly let them hang down in dark waves after fastening my blue ribbon back in place. “Yes?” I asked, pulling back the door. My luggage was now piled outside.
“Just checking,” Cole said as he leaned against the doorframe. “You were in there for a while.”
“I was changing.”
“For fifteen minutes?” he asked, his eyebrows scrunching up. “And what the heck are you wearing?”
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” I asked. Sure the outfit was a bit casual, but I hadn’t planned on being thrown into a pool.
“It looks like you’re going to an interview,” Cole said, trying not to laugh.
“If I were going to an interview, I’d be wearing a business suit.”
“Why would you wear guys’ clothes?”
I scoffed. “Business suits aren’t only for men.” Hadn’t his mother taught himanythingabout fashion?
“Okay, whatever, but I wouldn’t wear that nice top to dinner tonight. We’re having spaghetti.”
What was that supposed to mean? I didn’t eat like a caveman. “If we’re having dinner, shouldn’t we wear something more…appropriate?” I countered. Cole was still shirtless, and I purposely kept my gaze glued to his face so I wouldn’t stare. With his sun-bleached locks and chiseled abs, he looked like a Greek god. How was I ever going to live with this boy? Everything about him made me self-conscious and uncomfortable.
“I don’t know how you guys do things in New York, but we don’t dress up for dinner around here. I’ll be fine in this.” He smiled a slow, arrogant grin that made me squirm. “Anyway, I’ll give you time to unpack,” he said before I could respond.
Cole pushed himself off the doorframe, his arm muscles flexing. Holding my breath, I watched him leave without the ability to tear my eyes away. He finally disappeared around the corner in the hall, breaking my trance, and I collapsed on my new bed. I had survived my first encounter with the Walter boys.
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