I stared up at him, unsure of what to say, but I heard every word. His eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second, then he stepped back.
“I’ll be in the art studio if you need me.” He backed out of the kitchen and back into the front room, leaving me sitting there. Istared at the half-empty container of food and took another deep breath, allowing the silence to consume me.
I pushed the food aside, turned my chair, and rolled back to my little setup. I pulled out a fresh canvas and stared at it for a second. I already knew what I wanted to paint. My hands moved before I could fully form my thoughts. I grabbed a pencil from my stash and sketched the outline first—a man, not broken, but not perfect. It would make the perfect addition to my collection of African American culture.
I sat back for a second, my eyes tracing the lines I’d drawn so far.
“That’s a good man,” I whispered to myself as I dipped my brush in the brown paint and glided it across the canvas. I had an exhibit to complete.
“Shit.”I wasn’t supposed to be paying attention to her. I had tools in my hand and a shelf to build, but I couldn’t help myself. Every time I heard the shuffle of Noa’s wheels across the hardwood, my head jolted up to glimpse at her. Putting the finishing touches on her drying rack wasn’t enough to keep my eyes off her.
“Slow down, Noa!” She exhaled from the kitchen. She was moving fast, not like speed fast, but frantic fast. Her eyes had been bouncing from her phone to her canvas, to the bag stuffed with bubble wrap and a few pieces of her work all day. Shawty even had sweat glowing on the tip of her nose. I didn’t know if her beautiful ass was nervous or just pressed for time.
Today was the day of her art show. She hadn’t mentioned it to me, but I knew what today was. I’d looked it up the same day she’d told me she might be entering. When she painted her first piece for the exhibit, I went right online and purchased a ticket. The show was in a few hours, and I still didn’t know if I would stop by. I wanted to support Noa. I wanted to see her in her element. This was a big step for her. Watching her pursue her art these last couple of days moved me in a way that I never thought it could.
“Dammit!” She let out a frustrated grunt that had me putting my drill down and walking toward the kitchen.
“You good?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“I’m fine.” She looked up, lips tight.Cap.Her tone said ‘leave me alone’, but her body? She was damn near folding herself over to keep the canvas still. Stubborn as hell. I almost smiled.
“Lemme help.”
“I got it.”
“You strugglin’.”
“I prefer to struggle on my own,” she muttered, snapping the tape with her teeth, damn near about to fall out of her chair. I didn’t bother asking again. I just stepped in, grabbed the tape roll, and started smoothing the plastic around the edges of the painting. I recognized this one. It was the one I watched her zone out on for days. She didn’t know I peeped. She didn’t know I listened to the music she played while she worked. Shit, SZA and J. Cole had become permanent fixtures in my own playlist now.
I taped down one side, then handed her the scissors. She passed ’em back without even looking. We didn’t talk much, but we didn’t really need to.
“You nervous?” I asked once we packed the last piece up.
“I don’t wanna punk out,” she said, nodding.
“You won’t.”
She gave me a look like,are so sure?
“’Cause I see you,” I said, shrugging. “And nothing about you says punk.”
That made her stop and look up at me. Her lips twitched a little, and a cute ass smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth. Suddenly, I noticed how close we were at this angle. She must have noticed, too, because she leaned back slightly. I didn’t budge. In fact, I leaned in, and for a second, everything else got quiet. Her eyes stayed on mine longer than normal, and I damn near stopped breathing. Shit, I could swear she did, too. Her soft scent engulfed my nose.
I reached for her chin, brushing my thumb across her bottom lip. When she didn’t protest, I leaned in. I’d been dying to feel her lips on mine since the first day I’d laid eyes on her. When her phone vibrated on the table, I wanted to fuck up whoever the hell was on the other end ruining the moment.
“I need… to ge-get that.” She stuttered, backing away and grabbing her phone. I straightened to my full height and stepped back, giving her room. My hands fidgeted at my sides. I wasn’t ready for the moment to end, but it already had.
“Hey, T,” she answered as I turned toward the wall, pretending to look for something to do. “These ready to go up front?” I asked, nodding at her wrapped canvases. She glanced at me and gave a quick nod, then wheeled over to grab her pieces. I followed, carrying the heavier ones up to the door. I thought about just returning to my work in the art studio, but the disappointment in her voice had me making my way back to the kitchen.
“No, no, Teagan. It’s okay. You didn’t plan it… I’m not mad,” she said just as I reentered the kitchen. I didn’t need the context of the conversation to know Teagan must have gotten held up at school again.
“No, I’ll figure it out. It’s not that deep. I can call a Lyft or?—”
“I’ll take you,” I blurted before I thought it through. She stared up at me, the phone still pressed to her ear.
“Who is that? Is that Quade?” Teagan’s voice shot through the speaker.
“You d-don’t have to do th-that.” Noa stumbled as she turned to face me.
