Page 61 of Infatuated as They Come
“We shoulda done that years ago, huh?”
Laughing softly, her head fell back to the mattress. “My hands won’t stop shaking…”
“Just stay there. Relax for me.” I hummed, giving her shoulder more kisses. “You still mad at me?”
“I’m… I’m slightly less mad.”
“Yeah? Is making you feel good all it takes to get you to stop being so angry?”
“Possibly,” she said, breathing still ragged. “I know what you mean when you say you can’t just take a risk. I get it. But it’s okay to put yourself first, to do things that you want. It doesn’t make you selfish. I know you’ve never had the chance to do it, but you can now. You can do the things that you want, the things that make you happy. You don’t have to just look after me all the time. I can take care of myself. You’ve been taking care of yourself your whole life, don’t you think you deserve a break from that?”
Face buried in her neck, I let those words sink in. A break sounded nice. “You really want me to go to that place, huh?”
“Don’t you?”
I did. A lot. While I had been painting here and there around the apartment, it would have been nice to have a proper space to do it without worrying about spilling stuff all over Holly’s fancy ass rug. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just check it out.
“Tomorrow, I’ll go over to that studio and talk to ‘em,” I said. “How does that sound?”
“You promise?” she asked softly.
“I promise. You can come with me if you don’t believe me.”
“No, I trust you. But it’d be nice to spend the day together.”
“It’s a date then.” I pressed a kiss to her neck. “By the way, you lost that bet.”
Chapter 12
Sawyer
Holly was swinging our hands back and forth, her excitement obvious as we walked down the street. New York City managed to get even busier on a Saturday, but the slow walk from the apartment to the art studio had been nice so far. I had Holly all close to me, our hands glued together as we moved through street after street.
“This is gonna be so much fun,” Holly said next to me.
“You’re more into this than I am,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Because we’re finally doing something for you, and I’ve been waiting for us to do that since we got here. Do you know how frustrating it’s been trying to get you to do something like this?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
“Yes, I know. Busy working all the time. Sometimes I think you do it to avoid me.”
“My favorite part of the day is coming home to you. All day long I think about seeing you.”
“Well, the feeling is definitely mutual. Hm, I think it’s down this street.” She pointed to the right before we slithered through the crowd. “I’m so nervous meeting these guys.”
I snorted. “Why are you nervous?”
“I don’t really meet arty people that often. I should have worn a black dress.”
“You don’t even own anything black.”
“I have a couple things.”
“I guess it’s this place.” We came to a halt outside some big double story building, the bricks a soft grey color with glass windows out the front that displayed some paintings. My eyes flickered to the right where I spotted an alley way that showed off a hint of graffiti, and I figured that was the way in. “Might be through here…”
Fingers still tangled with Holly’s, I pulled her down the alley way, instantly met with a sea of striking, vibrant colors. Either side of the walls were covered in graffiti, the bricks and the little fence and the garage doors coated in vivid layers of paint. The cement below us showed remnants of dried paint that must have dripped off. It was messy and unkempt and reminded me of home, but I liked it and I wondered if Holly did too. We kept moving through the alley, right to the heavy looking door at the end. I gave it a knock and turned to Holly.
