She’s not sure how to greet me. That’s okay. I know how I want to greet her.
“C’mere, Rosebud.” Before she has time to react, I wrap my arms around Indie and pull her against my chest for a tight hug. She’s stiff for a moment, then she wraps her arms around my stomach and grips my back. Letting out a soft sigh, she presses her cheek to my chest, and I let mine rest on the top of her head.
She smells good. Like citrus and sunshine. At least, I imagine this is what sunshine would smell like. She’s my sunshine.
“I still can’t believe I get to hug you again after all these years.”
She hums. “I know.”
We stand like that for another minute or two, right there on the front porch, the door to her rental still open. At one point, I glimpse Lola inside with a massive smile on her face. She gives me a head nod before disappearing and leaving us alone. “You ready to go?”
She nods against me.
“And you’re wearing stuff that can get ruined?”
“I am. Are you really not going to tell me what we’re doing?” She pulls away and looks up at me with one eyebrow arched.
I kiss her on the nose. “Nope.”
The soft tinkle of her laugh vibrates through me, filling me with helium. I could float away if she keeps doing that.
“Do you trust me?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course.”
Yep. I’m in danger of floating away.
“Then let’s go. We don’t want to be late.” When I reach for her hand, our fingers slot together like they were made to.
“Welcome to Beautiful Mess Arts,”a smiling young woman chirps as we walk through the door. “I’m Bailey. You must be Mr. Navarro and Miss Bloom.”
Indie’s eyes are wide as she takes in the space. The entryway is painted in bright white, but there are massive paint-splattered paintings covering the walls in wild, vibrant colors. It’s much more curated looking than what waits for us.
“Hey, Bailey. Just Bash and Indie is fine.” I hold out my hand to shake hers.
The young woman smiles brightly, her rainbow-colored hair bouncing as she nods. “Of course. Well, it’s nice to meet both of you. Are you ready to get messy?”
“We sure are,” I answer for both of us, since Indie still doesn’t know what to expect.
“Awesome. Then please follow me.”
Linking my fingers with Indie’s, we follow Bailey as she leads us into a long, narrow room covered in paint splatters. It’schaotic and messy, and some splatters reach almost up to the high ceiling.
“What is this place?” Indie whispers.
“Beautiful Mess is an art studio for people who want to let loose,” Bailey says over her shoulder. She comes to a stop in front of two large canvases hanging on the paint-covered wall. Turning to us, she grins. “We believe there’s no right or wrong way to express yourself, but we’re partial to getting messy.”
“I can see that,” Indie says, chuckling.
“You can use anything here. Any of the paints, paintbrushes, straws, pipe cleaners, your hands… Whatever strikes your fancy. Throw the paint, splatter it, pour it, or brush it. There’s no right or wrong.” Bailey points to a few examples lined up along the opposite wall. “The studio is all yours for the next two hours. I’ll get out of your hair and hang out at the front desk, but please holler if you need help or more supplies.”
“Thanks, Bailey. I appreciate it.” I give the colorful woman a nod as she leaves us alone. Then I turn to Indie and arch an eyebrow. “Ready to make a masterpiece, Miss Bloom?”
Indie laughs. It’s a bright, almost startled sound, and I revel in it, because I’ve managed to surprise her. I went back and forth about where to take her for days. Did I choose something extravagant? Something candle-lit and romantic? Should I take her somewhere public or keep things private? We’ve been apart long enough that I didn’t feel nearly as sure about what to do as I would have ten years ago.
Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have even had to think about it. I would have simply known what to do and where to take her.
But the expression on her face? All of my debating was well worth it, because Indie has that bright-eyed look I lived for when we were teenagers.
