Brayden has me sit on the couch while he goes and gets me a glass of water and some crackers.
When he returns, he gestures to my painting on the easel. “Is that yours?”
I jump up and try to cover the painting with my arms. I don’t put them directly onto the canvas because the oils haven’t dried yet; I just hang my arms in the air and hope that will do the trick. But Brayden bends his head so he can see underneath.
He turns to face me. “That’s amazing, Leleila.”
“Thanks.” I give up fending him off and step back.
“You can really do this,” he says. By the tone of his voice, I can tell he means it. “You have something here.”
A weight drops off my shoulders, and I grab my portfolio as we walk over to the couch and sit down. “I appreciate that, Brayden. If you’re interested, here’s some of my other work. It was a long time ago, but…”
“I’d love to take a look,” he says.
As he flips through the pages, I stare at my old paintings. It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet I can still remember how much I loved it.
“I can see you doing this,” he says. “You know, professionally.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Not to put pressure on you or anything, I know these things take a lot of work.” He furrows his brow. “Maybe you need a job where you have time to paint.”
“That would be nice, but it seems unrealistic.”
“Flexibility,” he says. “That’s what you need.”
“I do want flexible hours. And I don’t want a long commute.”
I grab my laptop and open up to a saved tab. “I did find this one job the other day. It’s from home. From home could be really nice for me.”
Brayden glances at the screen.
“It sounds like it could work,” he says. “Why don’t you apply for it?”
“I think I will.” I lean back against the couch cushions. “When I’m sober. I’ve thought about painting so much over the years, but I’ve never done anything about it. Not until I failed my thesis.”
“You’ve probably got a lot of ideas stored up if you’ve been thinking about it that much.”
“I overthink everything.” I laugh. “I’ve thought way too much about learning to dance whereas you’re really good at dancing and you’ve probably never given it a second thought before.”
“I’ve thought a lot about finding the right partner,” he says, and I know as soon as the words leave his mouth he wishes he hadn’t said them.
I look at him sharply, and he closes his eyes for a second like maybe the moment won’t be here when he opens them. But when he opens his eyes, I’m still here, and so is that sentence he just strung together in his head and let out into the open.
I smile at him, his sapphire eyes the only thing I see.
“I remember your eyes the night we met,” I say in a soft voice. “They were the first thing I noticed about you.”
“You were so beautiful.” Brayden’s breath goes shallow. “You still are, of course, but I don’t usually tell you that.” He watches my face as my cheeks heat.
The chemistry is immediate and intense between us, and suddenly we’re leaning closer. I stare into Brayden’s incredible blue eyes, thinking crazy thoughts like how happy Elroy would be to see our heat. He leans in closer, and I feel enveloped by his masculine power.
He’s going to kiss me.
But at the last second, he abruptly shifts back. We stay silent for several more heartbeats, and I can’t take the physical closeness any longer. I’m too drunk for this.
I break the gaze and stare down at my water glass that Brayden has hurriedly shoved into my hands.
