Page 29 of Love Me

“Diego. Wh-Why would you do that?”

“How can you even ask me something like that?”

“But how?”

“I knew you would never let your parents help you. Even if you did, I wanted to help make your dream a reality, too. It’s the least I can do. Because I know your gallery is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see how the lives of the artists you feature will be transformed because of your hard work.”

“Their hard work,” she corrects.

With a shake of my head, I counter, “Yours too.”

A long exhale makes its way out before she says, “I’ll think about it.”

“While you think, let’s go look at the space again.” I stand and hold out my hand, which she takes with ease.

I want to demand to know what the hell there is to think about, but I know I’ll have time for that.

We’ve been just friends for long enough.

I kick myself multiple times a day for not taking this step before. But maybe the timing was never right. Either way, friendship isn’t enough for me anymore.

Not when I know I’m in love with my best friend.

CHAPTER6

Monique

“Oh my gosh!” I squeak as I plop down on my couch right next to Diego. I lay my head against his shoulder and let out a sigh that’s eerily close to a groan. “It’s been so long since we’ve gone museum hopping.”

After we left the café, we went back to the space so I could look it over again. It truly is perfect and, of course, Diego would be the one to find it. The location is great, and my mind couldn’t stop racing with all of the ideas of artists I could feature in the space.

I almost gave in right then and there, but I held firm. I need to make this decision on my own.

After that, Diego suggested we head over to the Williamsport Museum of Natural Art, which turned into us visiting the African-American and Latino-American Art Museums which were nearby.

“I hadn’t seen the new exhibit at LAM,” Diego says, his arm curling around my shoulders.

I move in tighter to his body to rest my head more easily against him.

“I forgot that a new artist was even featured this month.”

“Good thing we went. His exhibit ends next week.”

He nods in agreement.

“Today was great.” Our time at the museums and art stores really lifted my mood. “I have to admit, as much as I missed Williamsport’s museums, I do miss The Met,” I say of New York’s premiere art museum.

“Nothing beats The Met,” he concedes. “Do you remember the first time we went together?”

My head pops up and I give him a look.

“What?”

“How could I forget? We almost got kicked out because you kept wanting to touch the paintings.”

He chuckles. “I was sixteen and hadn’t seen anything like it before. That was when I became a fan of artwork.”

I nod in agreement and start to play with one of his tendrils of curls in his hair.

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