Page 52 of Paint Our Song


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Fuck.Fuck.Heat pools in Miles’s gut. He rolls over and groans into his pillow. This can’t happen.

He can’t think of Calvin in that way, because they’re friends—they’re friends, right? That’s what he had been thinking earlier, when he came very close to ruining it all.

“Stop it,” he grumbles, willing his dick to stop reacting the way it is.

He should sketch. That will help him get his mind off things.

Half an hour later, he stares down at a page that’s a myriad of different angles of Calvin’s profile. Calvin, with his cap drawn low over his eyes. Calvin, smirking. There’s one of him smiling in that endearingly shy way he does, with one corner of his mouth slightly curled and his chin tucked to his chest.

Oh, god. He’sfucked.

Chapter Fourteen

Gabby: You need to go to the roof.

The vague text spooks him. What does it mean, heneedsto go to the roof? Is Mom alright? Miles last saw her at lunch, and it’s already late in the afternoon. She said she was going to work on her garden, and now he gets this message from Gabby? Fuck.

He practically sprints to the roof garden. When Miles pushes the door open, he’s met with a sight he never expected.

Calvin is… helping Mom with the garden?

Mom’s bent over a planting bed, wearing her new gardening gloves and dipping her hands in the soil. She’s talking to Calvin and seems to be instructing him, pointing at a spot on the soil. Calvin, nodding, is crouched on the ground and holding a small potted plant. He’s not wearing gloves like her, and his hands are full of dirt, and even his jacket is dirty, as if he forgot about his hands and wiped them on it. Miles’s heart jumps. Turns out, a night of terrible sleep and avoiding him for half the day did nothing to stop his rapidlygrowing crush.

Gabby’s sitting by the table, a tumbler in her hands. As soon as she spots Miles, shewinks.

“Hi, honey!” Mom calls when she notices him. Calvin’s attention snaps to him as well, the corner of his lips tugging up to a slight smile.

“Hello,” Miles says. He walks up to them, still out of breath from how he rushed here. “What—what are you doing?”

“Calvin is helping me transplant my tomatoes.”

Miles blinks. Okay? What even led to this? “Mom, you can’t ask a guest to work on your garden.”

“Why not? He volunteered.” She tuts, and Calvin nods. He grins at Miles in a way that makes his stupid heart flutter again. Just like that, Mom waves him away and turns back to Calvin. They talk in low voices that Miles can’t hear.

“I thought something was wrong,” Miles hisses at Gabby. She laughs, and Miles notices that Calvin’s guitar is on the table behind her. He must have been up here playing on it, and Miles can only assume that Mom found him here and made him help her. Or maybe he did volunteer. Either way, it is really peculiar.

“Or it’s very right,” Gabby quips.

“How deep.” He steps toward Mom and Calvin. “Can I help?”

Mom shakes her head. “No, you’re very rough and destroy my plants. Unlike your friend here who has very gentle and precise hands. It must be all the guitar playing.”

“What?” Miles’s jaw drops, outraged. “I’m a painter, Ma! My hands can’t bethathorrible!”

“If you say so, honey.”

Calvin lets out a soft laugh, and Miles turns back to Gabby, eyes wide. He’s pretty sure they’re making fun of him, and he’s not so sure he’s onboard with this whole thing. “Weird,” he mouths at her.

Mom talks a lot as they work. She tells Miles about how she’s learned that Calvin has more than a dozen guitars. When he’s playing at a concert, he uses an electric guitar; when he travels on holidays, he brings an acoustic one. He has bass guitars too, though he doesn’t use them all that often. She also tells him about how the rest of his guitars are in his parents’ garage right now. She says she never even realized there were so many types of guitars, and that pro-musicians could usually play multiple instruments.

“Calvin has a Bachelor of Music in Theory and Composition, did you know that?” she asks Miles.

Yes, he did know that. Because he’s stalked the band’s Wikipedia page. “How long have you been talking?”

“Long enough. Sweetheart, I think this should be the last plant.”

Miles turns to Gabby again and mouths,“Sweetheart?”