“Alright.” I should have turned to leave, but my feet wouldn’t move. Instead, I stood there, my eyes darting around the entryway. “We’re going to be starting in your art studio next week,” I blurted, finally figuring out what to say just to start a conversation with her.
Her brows lifted. “Already?”
“Yep. Ramp’s done. It’s time we start on the house. I mapped everything out. We’ve already cleared most of the space.” Noahad seen the prep, signed off on every step. Still, I guess watching things get crossed off the list hit different.
“Okay, do you need anything from me?”
“Yeah, just need to check if you’ll need to use it in the meantime. I can set up a temp space so you’re not blocked from painting.”
She hesitated. “I wasn’t planning on it, but… if I enter this gallery show, I’ll need somewhere.”
That caught my ear. “Gallery show?” I tilted my head. “You have a showing?”
She bit her lip and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Dr. Easton and Teagan think I should. It’s nothing huge, just a local charity thing. I don’t know if I’m going to do it.”
I frowned. “Why wouldn’t you do it?”
“I don’t know… It’s been a while.” Her gaze drifted toward the wall. “I haven’t really… shown anything since before my diagnosis.”
“You know you’re dope, right? Your other gallery shows were amazing.”
She looked at me, eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, I forgot you Googled me.”
“I skimmed your site. Read a couple of articles. Watched an interview.”
“Stalker.” She huffed out a soft laugh.
“Supporter,” I corrected. “There’s a difference.” Silence stretched between us for a second. “Look, I don’t know everything about your journey or your diagnosis, but I know what it’s like to lose your footing. To have to rebuild. And I also know that just because your life takes an unexpected turn, it doesn’t mean you stop moving. You adjust. It’s okay to find a new rhythm.”
“You a motivational speaker now?”
“Only when it matters,” I said. She glanced at her art space and then back at me. I could tell she was deep in thought, probably wondering who the fuck I was to push her back into her art when I’d walked away from mine.
“You make it sound a whole lot less scary.” She exhaled a deep breath that seemed like she’d been holding in for a long time.
“Don’t trip off the fear. The best things you’ll ever do, you’ll do scared.”
Her eyes searched mine, and something in them sparked. “Well,… I guess I’m gonna need a space to paint.” She smirked, making me smile.
“Bet,” I said, my voice low. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you set up. Tomorrow, we’ll make sure you have everything you need to still paint while we work.”
Her gaze caught mine again, and neither of us could suddenly look away.
“Yo! Quade!” Rico’s voice shook us from the moment as his loud ass strutted through the doorway. “You tryna camp here all day?”
“I hate to be the timekeeper, but if we don’t leave now, we ain’t gonna finish that drywall over at the Daniels today.” James popped in behind Rico. I reluctantly dragged my eyes away from Noa and down to my watch, mad that their annoying asses were right. We had to go.
“Duty calls.” I glanced at Noa as I headed for the door. “Text me if you need anything.” Then I slipped out before I ended up camping out here just to be in her presence.
“So what’s up with you and Noa?” Rico leaned back in the passenger seat, a stupid ass smirk loud on his face. “You hittin’ that?”
I cut him a look between lane switches, jaw flexing. We’d barely made it off Noa’s street, and he was already starting in. By the way he looked when he busted through Noa’s front door, I was surprised it had taken him this long to start his shenanigans.
“What you talkin’ about?”
“C’mon, Q. You think we’re blind?” Rico chuckled. “Like we can’t see the way you be eye fuckin’ that girl.”
“Damn near floated behind her up that ramp,” James added from the back seat. “Looked like your feet ain’t even touch the ground.”
