The artist pulled out a spare chair for me to sit next to him and handed me a pad and some charcoal.
Apparently Gabriel had arranged for the artist to still draw our caricatures but we’d be doing our own amateur versions alongside him. They weren’t even sure if it was allowed, but the artist thought it was a cute idea so agreed.
I glanced down at the blank paper, not sure where to start and still riddled with self-doubt.
‘Just do your best,’ Gabriel said, without moving his lips as he tried to stay still for the artist. ‘I am sure it will be brilliant.’
My heart bloomed and I wanted to slap myself at how easily his compliment affected me. He clearly could tell how insecure I felt about drawing, so it was nice of him to encourage me, but I was sure that once he saw the substandard drawing I was about to produce, he’d soon change his tune.
First I drew an oval shape near the top of the page for his head. Then I added a neck and drew an outline of his big, broad shoulders.
As I looked up, my eyes fixated on his shirt. I noticed that he tended to wear shirts rather than T-shirts and the sleeves were always rolled up to his elbows exposing his muscular forearms, which had a delicious, I mean adustingof dark hair.
And his biceps bulged against the fabric. Not in athis-shirt-is-far-too-tight-for-meor aI-bought-a-smaller-size-just-to-show-off-my-bicepskind of way. His shirts were well-fitted, but when you have arms like his, it must be difficult to contain them.
A burst of laughter from a group of people on the other side of the square brought me back to my senses. When I glanced over at the artist’s page, he’d already sketched Gabriel’s face. I needed to spend less time ogling and more time drawing.
I quickly did an outline of Gabriel’s arms, then winced. I’d made them so big that he looked like a Michelin man. It was too late to start again though.
Now time for his face.
I fixed my gaze on him and my breath caught in my throat.
Off-limits or not, there was no denying that he was an incredibly attractive man. Everything about his face was flawless.
Despite the stubble on his jaw and chin, his skin looked impossibly soft, youthful and clear. Gabriel’s lips were full and plump, his dark, thick brows were imperfectly perfect.
It was so strange to have ‘permission’ to study his face for so long. The more I looked at him, the more details I spotted.
I noticed he had a small scar on the side of his right cheek but even that added to his beauty.
Sketching two little circles, I attempted to draw his eyes, already knowing full well that it’d be impossible for me to capture how sparkly they were. He looked like someone who got a lot of sleep. There were no dark circles or bags like I had after years of sleepless nights with Ricky and my insomnia now.
Once I’d drawn his features, I moved on to sketching his hair, then attempted to draw his shirt.
Just as I was adding the buttons, the artist announced that he had finished.
‘Already?’ I said, glancing over at his drawing. ‘Wow.’ My eyes dropped to my effort and back to his. Unsurprisingly, there was a huge difference. ‘I think you should just stick with the professional’s sketch.’ I lifted the pad up to my chest so that they couldn’t see it.
‘Non,’ Gabriel said, still holding his position. ‘Please finish.’
‘Okay,’ I said as Gabriel muttered something to the artist. I was sure I heard the word ‘money’ or ‘pay’ mentioned so maybe he was saying he’d pay the artist extra? Speaking of which, I hadn’t even checked how much this was costing. I hoped that Gabriel hadn’t given him any money yet. It was only fair that we went halves. Actually, I’d offer to pay for it all considering he didn’t let me get his replacement shorts yesterday.
‘Done!’ I said, dropping the charcoal on the pad.
‘Can I see?’ Gabriel finally moved, flexing his neck before stretching out his arms, sending a rush of blood to my cheeks. I immediately drew my gaze back to my ‘creation’ to avoid looking at him. I’d done enough of that for one day and it wasn’t healthy for me when I was trying to keep everything above board.
Although my portrait of Gabriel wasn’t the rubbish stick man I’d predicted, it wasn’t going to win any art awards anytime this century.
I handed it to him and my heart thudded against my chest. Why was I nervous? It was only a bit of fun.
Gabriel took it and as he stared at the drawing a smile broke out on his face.
‘I love it!’ he said, still studying it closely.
‘Come on!’ I laughed. ‘It’s not a patch onthis.’ I pointed to the artist’s amazing drawing.
‘This of course is excellent,’ he turned his gaze to the professional version, ‘but this is alsofantastique!’ Gabriel looked up at me and seeing how genuinely happy he was with it made my chest expand like a hot air balloon.
