Page 139 of New Growth
I scoffed, and he laughed at my reaction before dropping something completely out of left field.
“We should go to the club tonight.”
I blinked. “What? Why?”
“I think it’ll help loosen you up. Couldn’t hurt.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But you’re paying for the section.”
“No problem. I’m using your royalties.”
Regret.
El’s driveway was ice-cold under my feet, the concrete biting at my skin with every step.
The Uber he’d sent had arrived earlier than expected, so I’d just grabbed my essentials and shoved them into my bag, deciding to finish getting dressed at his place. This included the six-inch pumps I’d need help getting into.
Besides having to rush, I was glad to be picked up early. El had a habit of getting so sucked into his work that he lost all sense of time, which meant he was probably still at his desk, hunched over whatever project had his full attention tonight.
I punched in the code for his door and let myself in.
“El? Don’t tell me you’re still at that damn desk!” I yelled out.
His shoes were still by the door. His jacket, too. I sighed, dropping my bag next to them before heading upstairs. I’d never been inside his office before. He always claimed it was full of spoilers for his comic, butnow that it was out, I didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t pop in.
“Elliot Greene, I swear, if you haven’t moved from that seat…” I pushed open the door only to find it empty.
Well.Not empty.
The room was packed, lined from floor to ceiling with hundreds of drawings.
Of me.
I blinked, stepping further inside. My stomach did something weird, something tight and warm.
Sketches of me at work, hair pinned back, deep in concentration. Me in the kitchen, licking something off my thumb. Me at Lizzie’s coffee shop, laughing mid-conversation.
Me in his bed.
Most were in his usual cartoonish style, with bold lines and exaggerated expressions, but some were real. Real enough that I could almost feel myself through his eyes. I could feel the way he must’ve studied me.
I swallowed. My pulse tripped over itself as I reached for one of the pages on his desk, my own face staring back at me, drawn with more detail than I’d ever seen in his work before.
I didn’t know whether to be flattered or completely freaked out.
“Wow.”
The word slipped out before I could stop it.
Also on the desk sat his huge sketchbook, open as if waiting for me. Hesitantly, I reached for it, flipping through the pages. It started with rough drafts of characters from his comic, but as I turned the pages, the focus shifted. Slowly and subtly, they became more intimate.
More me.
The sketches were detailed, but the notes scrawled beside them were what made my throat go dry. I swallowed hard, sinking into his chair as I turned another page.
Ellie’s hair is darker than this. Less frizzy, too.Next to it, a sketch of me with my natural hair, loose and covering half my face.
Softest lips in the world.A simple sketch of my lips, shaded carefully, almost reverently.
