“Ha,” Cherry said. “I don’t have a burning story to tell.”
“Well, me neither.The Guardiancalled my last book ‘predictable torpor.’?”
“They’re just being contrary,” she said. “The only interesting thing left to say aboutThursdayis ‘I don’t understand the appeal.’ You’re thePaddington 2of comic artists.”
Tom hummed. He’d picked out a blank cookie and was scrutinizing it.
Cherry worked on Tigger’s eyebrows. She needed to make more black icing. “I don’t think I’d enjoy this as much if I was getting paid for it,” she said.
“That is certainly and universally true,” Tom agreed.
She glanced up at him. “Did you stop enjoyingThursdayonce you were getting paid?”
“Not immediately,” he said, icing the cookie. “For a while, working on new comics was like an escape from the old comics, the ones that everyone was reading...”
“And then?”
“And then I couldn’t ignore the fact that everyone was readingallof them. That nothing was mine anymore.”
“It’s still yours,” she said.
“Huh,” Tom laughed. It sounded hollow.Cold.
Cherry didn’t want to hear more of it. “Did you remember to make Oliver, fromOliver & Company?”
“Yeah.”
“What about Mochi?”
Tom frowned. “Who’s Mochi?”
“FromBig Hero 6.”
He groaned. “Right. Mochi. Okay...” He picked up another cookie and squinted at it. “This is Mochi now.”
“Who was that before?”
“That cat girl fromTreasure Planet.”
Cherry laughed. “Deep cut.”
He smiled at her. “You’re wide awake.”
“I got my second wind.”
He kept smiling. Tom had a gorgeous smile, and almost no one got to see all of it. He only smiled wide like this when his guard was completely down. Never at work or in big groups—or on television.
It had been a while since Cherry had seen the complete expanse of Tom’s smile. It made his chin sharp and pushed his cheeks into his eyes.
Tom’s face was so easy to draw... Flat, slightly tipped eyes. Square forehead. Thick eyebrows, wide jaw. Full lips.
Cherry would draw him happier and more handsome than he drew himself. Tom always drew himself slouching—but he almost neverslouched in real life. Tom had lovely broad shoulders. They were one of his nicest features.
He looked good in just a T-shirt... His arms were nice, too. Thick and capable. Maybe Cherry only thought so because she knew that theywerecapable. That Tom could do almost anything with his hands. And he could carry almost anything a man might be asked to carry.
Cherry had always felt so lucky to be with Tom. Like, on his team. If you were planning an expedition, Tom would be the first person you’d choose. Someone who could figure anything out, and fix anything that broke, and fight off anything that threatened you—with his bare hands, if it came to that.
Cherry was feeling a little unsteady...
