Page 91 of Never Started
“Woah, you look fucking gorgeous, babe.” I chuckle at her annoyance.
“Seriously, Mav? You have me wearing jeans and a white T-shirt with sneakers... for a date.” She looks over in the full-length mirror that hangs behind the main door in my room. Oh, yeah. She’s irritated, but that won’t last long once she finds out what we’re doing. “Do you not know me at all?”
I push off the edge of the bed and walk over to Izzy, still standing in the mirror, and wrap my arms around her from behind.
“Oh, I know you very well. Trust me?” I raise a challenging eyebrow at her as we look at our reflections, tangled together in the mirror.
“If I fucking must,” she says with a sigh and an overly dramatic eye-roll.
The drive into the city takes just about two hours. New Orleans has always beenour placetogether. When she’s here with me, she just comes alive. It’s beautiful to watch.
We turn the corner leading to the back alley of the building, and Izzy squeezes tightly onto my arm as she stops walking.
“Okay, blue jean casanova... I let you dress me like this, and now you’re trying to take me down a dark alleyway... Are you plotting my fucking murder or something? What the hell, Mav!?” The worried expression on her face causes me to snort out a laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“Years later, and you’re still asking me that? Baby, the last thing I want to do is murder you. If I did, I would’ve stuck with the original plan—pig feed.” Her eyes widen, and I try and fail to bite back another laugh. I can’t believe she’s being serious right now, and I can’t stop fucking laughing, which is only annoying her. “Nervous Izzy is kinda cute. Maybe I should keep you guessing?” I tease.
She glowers, then whispers-shouts with a huff, “Fuck no, I’m dying to know what the hell is going on! I’m way too nosy for this kinda shit.” We begin walking again, and she is more hesitant this time. Turning to the door, she reads the sign above it and gasps, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “Studio Drip! You didn’t!”
“Oh, but I did!”
“I’ve always wanted to–”
“I know,” I say softly before opening the door for her.
Studio Drip is one of the top of its kind in the state, hosting hands-on painting and pottery classes. The space itself is stunning, with an old industrial feel. It boasts a high ceiling with a mix of old, huge, worn wooden and steel beams crisscrossed along the top. The exposed brick with white paintchips throughout somehow adds to the cozy effect. Multiple painted canvases hang along every wall—artwork that’s just as astounding as it is breathtaking.
Izzy is more creative than she will ever give herself credit for. She has a passion for art and loves to draw and paint. Yet, the woman never takes time for herself to actually do it anymore. I’ve seen all her old drawings and paintings from when she was younger and listened to her ramblings about this place for a while. I know what this means to her.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and turn my head to see a tall, thin brunette walking our way with a smile and wearing a tight-fitted, long black dress that falls right below her knees. Izzy must be hating me right now for how she’s currently dressed in comparison, and I try my hardest not to chuckle at the thought.
“You must be Maverick!” she exclaims. Izzy’s features morph into confusion as the woman approaches us with her hand outstretched to shake mine.
“I am, and this is–”
“That makes you, Izzy!” she interjects, cutting me off. Izzy gives a polite smile, undoubtedly holding back whatever sassy wit is running through that mind of hers at the moment. The woman shakes Izzy’s hand, then places one hand on her hip and the other over her chest.
“I’m Marissa, the owner. I must say, I was blown away when I received your request. This has to be one of the most romantic things we’ve ever assisted with. It’s been my honor to assist with putting this on.” I ignore her words, sparing her a quick nod with a forced straight-line smile, and quickly look over to Izzy for a read on what she’s thinking. I hope Marissa doesn’t ruin the surprise before it can happen.
As expected, Izzy’s lips are pursed together in a straight line, and her brows are furrowed in confusion. I lean in, kissing her forehead softly. She hates surprises, so this has to be killing her.
“Okay, would either of you like to clue me in about what’s going on?” Izzy says softly, trying her best to keep her tone even, but I know damn well she’s holding that sass back with all she’s got.
Marissa cocks her head. “Oh, you don’t know–”
“No, Marissa, I don’t. Know. Anything.” There’s that attitude I know and love, and I can’t help but chuckle at how cute she looks right now.Feisty-ass woman.
“Well,” Marissa’s attention darts to me, forcing a smile. “I’ll leave you both to it. You’ll find everything you requested in studio room two, right down the hall. I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.” She points to the direction of the hallway, then the stairwell off to the right of the building, and walks off in that direction.
As soon as Marissa is out of earshot, Izzy swings around to face me, placing herself directly in front of me. “What the hell did you do?” She seems more annoyed than excited.Not exactly what I was going for.
Still, I can’t help but smirk.
“You’ll see,” I say, grabbing her hand and leading her into the vast studio space.
Chapter forty-four
Izzy
