I return from the boxing club late on Saturday night and park my truck alongside the carriage house, peeking at the bright lights in my upper floor studio with a lump in my throat. I know I didn’t leave the lights on before I went out, which means I have an intruder. It could be Kendall. I gave her a key so she could come over anytime, and I wouldn’t have an issue with her being in my studio, but I don’t think she would enter it alone. Which means it’s my father.
I scramble out of the truck as that thought lodges in my brain and burst into the house. Dumping my bag on the floor, I take the stairs two at a time up to the second level.
After we moved here and I discovered this place, I claimed it for my own and converted the entire second floor into one large workspace where I can paint and draw to my heart’s content.
I slam to a halt at the sight of Kendall—sitting on the floor, in the center of my art studio, surrounded by tons of canvases, in various stages of completion, some hanging on the walls and others propped against it—with the most awestruck expression on her face.
Hearing my footsteps, she looks up at me. Her eyes are swimming in emotion, and my heart slows down when I realize there is no threat and speeds up as I acknowledge what she now knows. “Vander,” she rasps, her throat clogged with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I drop down on the floor beside her, mirroring her cross-legged position. I gulp over my nerves. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
Her gaze flits to the paintings hanging around the walls.
Every single one is of her.
“They are all of me,” she whispers, like it’s a secret. And I suppose it is. Only it’s our secret now.
“You’re my muse, Kendall,” I truthfully admit. “You inspire me like no one else ever has or ever will.” My fingers wind through her long hair as she tips her chin up to look at me. She is shielding nothing from me now, and I let everything show on my face.
I love her so much, and I am tired of denying it.
“But it’s more than that,” I continue. “You are all I see.” My fingers move from her hair to her face as I cup her cheek. “Every time I take a new canvas out, your face is the first image that springs to mind.” I emit a deep chuckle. “If I didn’t need a diverse portfolio, and to expand my skill set for Yale, every painting in this room would be of you.”
“Who else has seen these?”
“No one.” I know why she asked. “I keep my studio locked most times. Even when I’m using it, and I never let any of my friends up here.” To be fair, they rarely ask. West is the only exception. He cares about me, and he knows how much is resting on my acceptance to Yale, so he has asked to see my work a few times, but I always put him off. “You’re the only other person who has a key.”
“I’m so sorry, Vander. I shouldn’t have come up here without asking you first. It’s just I was hoping to buy one of your pictures to hang on my bedroom wall, and temptation got the best of me when I was waiting for you to come home.”
“You don’t need to apologize. That rule doesn’t apply to you.” I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
“Me either.” Scrambling to her feet, she takes my hand and pulls me up. “Which is why I want to know about this one,” she says, dragging me toward the picture that replicates the vision I see in my dreams. Her fingers thread through mine as we both stare at the drawing. It’s the biggest canvas I have ever painted—a long, rectangular one that gave me enough scope to depict the Egyptian river, the pyramid in the background, and the town built along one side of the riverbank.
With her free hand, she reaches out, tracing over the couple embracing in the water. “This is going to sound insane,” she softly admits, her gaze glued to the painting as she speaks. “But this scene looks familiar.” Her words send a jolt straight through my heart, buoyed by a fresh layer of hope. Her brow scrunches in concentration as her fingers move over the picture in a slow sweep. “My heart beat like crazy when I first saw it, and I swear images flashed in my mind.” She glances up at me, showcasing a faint blush on her cheeks.
“What images?” I squeeze her hand as butterflies swoop low in my belly.
“That man,” she whispers, stepping closer to me. “I saw his face. Felt the warmth of his adoration and the intensity of his love.” Her cheeks darken from pink to red. “Looking at his face was like looking into a mirror of my soul.” She slams a hand over her heart. “He is the other part of me. I just know it. A lifetime of memories flooded my mind out of nowhere.” She shakes her head, sending waves of soft blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. “I felt him in here. Like he’s ingrained inside me, but—” Tears well in her eyes, and I clutch her waist as she lowers her gaze to the floor.
I am scarcely breathing, wound tight in anticipation. “What, Kendall? What else did you see and feel?”
“This is nuts,” she whispers, peering up at me as she presses her body up against mine and grabs a handful of my shirt. I’m not even sure if she’s aware she’s doing it. I’m glad I showered at the club today. That I don’t smell like ass.
“Say it.” My hands slide around her waist and palm her lower back as I press her tight against me. “Tell me.”
Her eyes probe mine for a few seconds, and I wait with bated breath for her to reveal what I have figured out these past few months. “It was you,” she finally admits. “He didn’t look like you, but it was you.”
“Itwasme. Itisme, and she is you.”
“What’s going on, Vander?” Her fist tightens in my shirt, and we’re pressed so close she must feel my hard-on nudging her stomach.
“We never got to finish our conversation about reincarnation the other night, but I believe in it. I believe in it because I have been dreaming of that river and us for years without having any understanding of what it meant until recently.”
Shock splays across her features. “The psychic saw you,” she murmurs, staring deep into my eyes like I hold all the answers to the unexplainable.
I frown. “What?”
“At the psychic night at Shirley’s house, she told me she saw you. That she saw you from the first moment she met me. Dee said in every lifetime we find one another because the bond is so strong. Apparently, we always have to overcome obstacles to be together.” A startled laugh bursts from her lips as a lone tear sneaks out of one eye. “This is insane, Vander. I’m an open-minded person. I’m fascinated by the things we can’t explain, but this is on a whole other level. It can’t be true, can it?”
