Tonight at seven is perfect.I’ll see youthere.
Short and to the point. Purple bled into Alex’s vision. He scowled and blinked itaway.
Purple wasn’t what he wanted. He needed to get over Laurence and take back control of his own life. He had to stick to the plan. Falling in love with Laurence was a problem he didn’t have time for, and he would make sure it didn’t happen. Alex’s heart had already been broken—he wouldn’t allow it to fall to piecesagain.
20
Laurence
Without an exhibition underway,the North Banks art gallery was understated, but still an aesthetic pleasure. Its uneven stone facade glinted in the setting sun, the tiny quartz deposits lit up like sparks in the twilight. Its front doors were made of glass, offering a view of the spacious showroom within. Just beyond those doors was where Laurence had met Alex for the first time—where his life had changed forever. Change of that magnitude was frightening, but Laurence wasn’t nervous when he pulled open one of the doors and stepped inside. All he could think about was how lucky he was to be back in the place it had allbegun.
Immediately to the right from the showroom doors was a hallway lined with doors. Laurence remembered it—Alex had guided him down it on the night of the exhibition and stolen him away into one of the rooms. Laurence couldn’t put a finger on which door it was, but as he progressed down the hallway, he saw that he wouldn’t have to spend long looking. One of the doors had been left ajar, and light spilled from inside in a strip across the hallway floor. Laurence came to a stop in front of it and rolled his shoulders back. His heart was so full, it felt like it mightburst.
Alex was waiting forhim.
He stepped forward and knocked on the doorframe, waited for a moment, then pushed the door open. The studio was smaller than he’d thought it would be—big enough to fit a table and supplies to the right, a modesty screen to the left, and a worn-down loveseat between them. In the very middle of the room, several paces in front of the couch, was an easel, and in front of it stood Alex. Laurence almost didn’t recognize him. Without his expensive suit, he looked different—less like he was trying to fit into a world that didn’t see life in the same way he did, and more like he was being true to himself. The canvas sneakers he wore spoke better of who Alex was than stuffy, polished dress shoes. Skinny jeans conformed to the shape of his legs, their dark wash hugging the curves of his ass. One end of his loose t-shirt was tucked beneath the waistline of his jeans while the other had been tugged free. Whether it was intentional or an oversight, Laurence didn’t know. What he did know was that even when he was dressed down, Alex was exquisite. Graceful, even though he wasn’t acting for an audience. Captivating, even though what he did, he did for no one buthimself.
For a moment, Laurence lingered in the doorway. He watched Alex from behind as Alex busied himself over whatever project he was working on—the canvas was so small that Alex’s body eclipsed it. He considered knocking again, wondering if Alex hadn’t heard him the first time, but just as he was about to raise his fist, Alex’s shoulders slumped, and he turned around to look Laurence over. There was numb pain in his eyes. Defeat. The look was only there for a moment, but a moment was all it took. There was somethingwrong.
“Is it seven o’clock already?” Alex asked. He smiled, and the charming man Laurence had met at the gallery returned. This time, Laurence saw through the ruse. “I lost track of time. I would have gone to the door to greet you. I’msorry.”
“What’s wrong?” Laurence didn’t bother with pretense. He didn’t know Alex well, but his paternal instinct took hold and made how familiar they were with each other irrelevant. If Alex was hurting, Laurence wanted to help. He wouldn’t pretend that everything wasfine.
Alex looked thoughtful. He moved away from the easel and set his palette on the supply table, then focused on cleaning the brush he’d been using. Avoidance. “Sometimes, when I paint, I’m in a world of my own. It takes me a little while to snap out of it. I didn’t mean to look upset when you camein.”
Laurence didn’t buy it. He glanced from Alex to the painting on theeasel.
Purple.
A cord in his heart was plucked, and its resonance vibrated through his body and produced a note like Laurence had never heard before. Sweet, but soulful, like a cello performing its final song. It lingered in Laurence’s soul and harmonized with the nurturing instinct that came to him so naturally. All of the details clicked into place, and Laurence glimpsed into the world that Alex had lost himselfto.
“It’s purple.” Laurence let his gaze linger on the painting. He wasn’t sure if Alex was watching, but he knew that Alex would understand what he was talking about. He came to stand behind Alex, not touching him, but close enough that their bodies almost brushed. “You don’t have to besad.”
“Oh?” Alex set his brush down and turned to face Laurence. His ass bumped the table, but he didn’t sit. The same bold, flirtatious expression was on his face from before, but behind his eyes, Laurence saw something he’d never seen in Alex before—uncertainty. On the surface, Alex was fine, but inside he was vulnerable and doing his best to hide it. “And you know thishow?”
“Because purple is the color you felt when you pulled me into this very room.” Laurence followed the logic and connected the dots. The cord struck again in his heart, and he knew what he had to say. “It’s the color you see when we’re together, isn’tit?”
Alex said nothing, but the grin slipped from his face and the uncertainty shattered the confidence in his eyes. Seeing him like this—tender and meek—filled Laurence with the urge to protect and cherish. The chemistry was back, sparkling inside of him like he was filled with tiny polished diamonds. It encouraged him to reach out and reassure, and so Laurence did. He cupped Alex’s cheek and ran his thumb along itscurve.
Alextrembled.
“I’m here now,” Laurence told him. He spoke only as loudly as he needed to in order to be heard. Alex’s eyes were locked on his. He wasn’t missing a word. “I’m here, and I’msorry.”
Alex blinked tears from his eyes. Beneath the bright studio lights, they sparkled. “You can’t be sorry,” Alex whispered. “It’s not… it’s not your place to besorry.”
“Why?” Laurence realized they were closer now, but he had little idea if it was his doing, or Alex’s. Their lips were close, and their bodiescloser.
Alex’s words caressed his lips. “Because you’re not supposed to care enough about me to see things like that. You weren’t supposed toknow.”
All he wanted to do was show Alex that what he assumed wasn’t true—that he did care, and that he cared far more than he should have for a man he’d just met. It was only supposed to be a kiss. A simple, lingering kiss to say everything would be alright. But the moment Laurence’s lips met Alex’s, he knew that he’d been lying to himself. No kiss between them could ever be simple. Simply by existing, Alex lit his soul up in ways it had never been lit up before. With every word, every laugh, and every lingering glance, he shaped Laurence’s life for thebetter.
Because of him, Laurence was free to liveagain.
There was nothing simple aboutthat.
What was meant to be nothing more than a kiss sweetened and prolonged itself. Laurence let it run its course, savoring how the contact between them sparked against his skin and made him crave more. Alex kissed him back, every bit as sweet and heartfelt as Laurence. They crafted their passion together and did away with what waswrong.
Breathless, Laurence drew back, dropping his hand from Alex’s cheek. He opened his eyes to find Alex had lowered his head. His shoulders shook. Was hecrying?
