by Ashley West
Not that she was going to do anything. He wasn't hers to lust after, and as far as she knew, he had a girlfriend. Not that she was single herself, of course.
But it didn't hurt to look.
He moved around the space confidently, setting up an easel and laying out his paint: water colors this time, so he was clearly in a delicate sort of mood.
Their eyes met as he looked up and saw her looking, and he offered her a warm smile. "What're you working on today?" he asked.
"Just some stuff to sell online," she said, shrugging a shoulder. "Bowls, mugs, vases, you know. The usual Saturday routine."
He nodded. They'd shared this space on enough Saturdays that he knew what she usually did by now. She moved on to the next part of her process, not wanting to distract Keith from his own work, but they chatted as they worked, and morning turned to afternoon. It was only natural for them to step out of the building together at around one in the afternoon, both craving lunch.
"That burger place a couple blocks up is really good," Keith said. "You in?"
They'd never had lunch together in all the time that they'd been doing this, and Alanna blinked for a moment, surprised, and then nodded. "Sure. Sounds great."
When Alanna's mother had been alive, she'd believed in several things that she'd considered hard and fast truths. The biggest of those truths was that there was no better way to get to know someone than to share a meal with them. It was something her mother had taught her and then she'd passed it down to Alanna, who walked into Easy Sam's Burgers at one-fifteen on a Saturday afternoon, hungry for a burger and fries, but also for information about her companion.
The people who did their work at Pebbles were close knit by nature. Artists tended to stick together, encouraging and supporting each other, sometimes when no one else would.
Keith wasn't the talkative type, though, and he was one of the newer people renting space in the studio, so she didn't know as much about him as she knew about Alyssa who did blacksmithing or Thomas who was into pottery as well. Those were people she'd been working around for years, and Keith had been coming to Pebbles for only a couple of months.
So she wanted to know him. Not just because he was attractive.
Probably.
At any rate, they slid into a booth in the back of the little diner, and smiled at the waitress who put down water glasses and menus in front of them.
"Can I get you started with something more to drink?" she asked, a bored expression on her face.
"Coffee would be great," Alanna said. "Do you have cream?"
The waitress, who at further inspection wasn't a grown woman, but instead a heavily made up teenage girl, shrugged a shoulder. "We've got half and half and non dairy creamer," she said.
"So that would be a no," Alanna replied, arching an eyebrow. "I'll take the half and half."
"And you?" the waitress asked Keith, and Alanna was gratified to notice that her tone didn't get any less bored when talking to him. At least this cranky teenager was rude to customers equally. Or maybe they'd just caught her on a bad day.
"I'll have a coke, please," he said, flashing her a smile that would have made other teenage girls swoon right there.
She just rolled her eyes. "Sure. Be right back with that."
Alanna snorted as she walked away. "She clearly was not interested in you smiling at her," she teased.
Keith looked like he was going to protest, but then he gave it up and laughed. "Yeah, apparently not. It's not something I go around doing, mind you. Smiling at teenage girls. It's just, you know, apparently my nieces have friends who think I'm hot, so. I thought maybe it would make her day better."
"How altruistic of you," Alanna said, shaking her head.
He shrugged. "Can't win them all."
"Apparently not."
They studied their menus in companionable silence for a bit, and Alanna was in the middle of her perpetual internal 'fries vs onion rings' debate when she felt Keith looking at her. She glanced up to see him watching her with amusement.
"What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious and hating it.
"Nothing," he replied. "Just. I don't know. You have this...reputation."
Alanna's eyebrows reached toward her hairline at the words. Of course, she knew she had a reputation. Everyone who worked at Pebbles had a reputation, really. Alyssa was the princess with the arms of steel, Thomas was the one you'd never know was gay until you saw him kissing his husband in the lobby, Christina was quiet as a mouse, but made the most beautiful wooden figurines and with her unimpressive height, everyone was convinced she was an actual fairy.
It went on and on all the way to John and Amanda, the ones who owned the building. Alanna knew what her reputation was, too. She was the no nonsense one who tended to lash out when she was stressed. She knew that about herself, and honestly, she spent a good portion of her time apologizing to people who she had accidentally offended with her brusqueness.
"Do I?" she asked, leaning back in the booth and putting her menu down.
"Yeah, but I don't think it's a bad thing," Keith said quickly, eyes wide like he was worried he had offended. "You're serious about your work because it's what you want to do with your life, right? I can understand that."
That...wasn't a terrible way to put it, and she shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe."
"I'm not saying this right at all," he said with a sigh. "I only meant to say that...you're not really like what I was expecting. Some people warned me about sharing a space with you, you know. When they found out I was going to be coming on Saturdays, too. They said you were going to be all intense and weird about sharing the space and that you liked things a certain way."
"Well. That's mostly true," Alanna had to concede. There was a reason why she and Thomas couldn't be in the space at the same time.
"Not in my experience," Keith said, shrugging. "I haven't had any issues sharing the space with you. I look forward to it, actually. Every week."
Alanna was taken aback by that. "Even though I play terrible music and make you listen to it?"
Keith shrugged. "Is it weird to say that it's sort of helps me work? I sold a piece for twice what I was thinking about selling it for about a week ago, and I realized it was one of the ones I painted on that Saturday you were in your old school R&B mood, remember? And you kept singing in that silly voice?"
Looking back, it sounded sort of embarrassing, but she'd been in a good mood, making things that she'd felt proud to sell and working on some commissions. The music had just come on the first random radio station she'd selected, but it had ended up being perfect for what she wanted to make that day.
"That worked for you?" she asked, surprised.
"Yeah," he said, giving her a lopsided grin. "It really did. I don't know what it is about you, Alanna, but you're like..."
"Don't say it," she said, holding up one finger to stop him.
"Say what?"
"You know what. That same cheesy line every artist says to their partner or someone they're flirting with eventually. 'You're my muse'." She said it in a deep, faux seductive voice, and Keith held her eye contact for a moment before he dissolved into quiet laughter.
"Alright, fair," he said. "I was going to say that. But it's true, in a non cliché way. You inspire me."
And yes, it was cheesy. It was something that all of them had said to someone in college once or twice to get laid before, and it didn't really mean much when it was said like that. But with the way Keith was looking at her, Alanna felt like he actually meant it, and that was...beyond flattering.
She'd never heard anything like that before, honestly. Not when it came to art. Alex (her boyfriend, her subconscious decided to remind her just then) never said things like that to her, and even if he did, he wouldn't mean it in the same way that Keith meant it.
She was doomed.
This is such a bad idea, she told herself only once. Just to acknowledge it. Just to say that she knew it was a bad idea, so her internal record woul
d show that she had actually thought about it and then decided to just keep going on that road to bad decisions.
But Keith was kissing her neck, and they were locking the door of the studio room, and he was pressing himself against her and rubbing his thigh between her legs as she gasped and moaned softly, feeling her body respond to him.
She liked to think that this was two and a half months in the making and not some spontaneous thing she was doing just because they were both there, but honestly, all she was really thinking was yes, yes, yes, yes please more of that as Keith nipped at her neck lightly and then soothed the sting with the flat of his tongue.
His hands were on her hips, and she could feel the heat of them through the thin material of her leggings. His skin was hot and soft, and she wanted to lick him, see what he tasted like. She wanted to break him down to his parts and then rebuild him with the knowledge she had gained from the activity.
Which was, she’d admit, a very weird thing to think, but it was better than thinking about the gravity of what she was doing.
That wasn't the last time it happened, either.
Alanna didn't know what she was thinking, honestly. Well, she did, and that was probably the worst part. She knew that this wasn't the right thing to do, that she was making it harder and harder to explain to Alex what was happening with each time she kissed Keith, but honestly, it was just so...good.
Sex with Alex had never been bad. It was perfectly fine sex. They usually both got off, and Alex had never been a selfish lover. One of his favorite things to do was to grin at her and then spread her legs, kissing his way down her body until he could put his mouth where they both knew she wanted it.
And he'd go to town down there for a while, licking and sucking and making sure that she got off before he came up for air.
It wasn't even about doing it so she'd return the favor, either. Sometimes that was all they did. Alanna knew she couldn't complain about that aspect of their relationship.
It was just...everything else that she was having a problem with.
And with Keith, all the other stuff was there. He cared about the same things she cared about. When she asked him about his work, he spoke with passion and enthusiasm about the same things she talked about with her work. He understood what it felt like to be inspired at four in the morning. To wake from a dream with an image in your head and the unignorable need to get it out and make it real.
Saturdays were theirs. They arrived at separate times to Pebbles, did their work for a while, and then called it a day. Sometimes they got lunch, sometimes they made out against the wall. One especially memorable time, Keith had bent her over one of the drafting tables and made her sob his name.
Usually they ended up back at Keith's place. He lived alone, had a memory foam mattress, and could make fajitas that were now Alanna's favorite after sex meal.
They stayed there until they were sated in all the ways a person could be, and then inevitably, it would be time for Alanna to leave.
The part that made her feel the worst was that things with Alex were going really well now. Since she had Keith to talk to, she didn't have to get Alex to pretend like he understood what she was talking about when she talked about the creation of her work, and it was clear that he appreciated the reprieve. He still asked her how things were going, but was content to accept "good" and "being productive" as answers instead of the usual near lectures she'd given before.
So it settled into a routine, and Alanna was beginning to wonder if this was just how things were going to be now.
Until Alex called.
She was still in Keith's bed, wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. He was in the bathroom, and she was lounging against his pile of pillows, feeling satisfied from the three orgasms she'd had in the last two hours. Her phone was in the pocket of her jeans on the floor, but she could hear it buzzing, so she fished it out.
Alex. Her heart kicked up into overdrive when she saw his name on the screen, and she spent a good few seconds debating with herself whether it was better to pick up or let it go to voicemail.
But Alex never called her on Saturdays unless it was important, and she swore under her breath and answered it right before it was about to stop ringing.
"Hey," she said, going for a natural tone. "What's up?"
"Where are you?" Alex asked. "I wanted to see if you wanted to do dinner tonight."
Dinner. Okay. She could handle that. "Sure, yeah," Alanna said. "I'm still at the studio. That big commission is due soon, you know. But I'll be done in time for dinner. Do you want me to meet you somewhere?" He was quiet for a moment, and she frowned. "Alex?"
"Yeah. I'm here. Uh. Let's do dinner at your place? I'll cook if you want."
"Sure," she said. "That sounds great. Around seven?"
"Yeah. Seven's good."
Alanna was good at a lot of things. She was an excellent potter and sculptor, and her drawing wasn't terrible either. She was a good driver, she could ski, and when she was in high school and college, she'd been excellent at volleyball.
She had a plethora of talents, spread out across different areas, but overthinking was probably one of her best skills. If you could call it a skill.
Alex's car was in the driveway when she arrived, and she looked at the clock in her car and saw that it was just a quarter after six. Maybe he was already cooking. That was probably it.
Keith had watched in amusement while she'd brushed her teeth vigorously and made sure that her hair didn't look like she'd been writhing around in a bed.
"Paranoid?" he'd asked her.
"Thorough," she'd replied.
It didn't seem to bother Keith that she had a boyfriend, and Alanna didn't know how she felt about that, but she supposed it didn't really matter. Eventually, she was going to break things off with him. It was the right thing to do.
She was as evidence free as she could be, honestly, and she got out of her car and went into the house.
Where there wasn't anything cooking. Alanna frowned. "Alex?"
"Living room," he called back.
She followed his voice into the living room and saw him sitting on the couch, looking nervous. Suddenly, she wondered if she had been worried about the wrong thing.
"What's up?" she asked.
"I wanted to surprise you," he said.
And no. Oh, no. It was beginning to feel like she was in one of those cheesy romance movies where the boyfriend said he wanted to surprise the girl and then pulled out a ring and there was kissing and crying and all kinds of promises.
Promises Alanna wasn't ready for and probably didn't want to make to someone she was currently cheating on.
"Alex," she said. "You shouldn't...you..."
"I wanted to surprise you," he said again, voice firmer this time. "So I went down to the studio today. I thought, hey, it's been awhile since I've seen any of your work, and you haven't really been talking about it much lately, so. I figured I'd pop in, see what you'd made and then maybe take you out for dinner. Do something nice, you know?"
Ah. "You went to the studio?" she asked, hoping against hope that she could still salvage this. "When?"
"When you told me you were there," Alex said. "I was standing in the pottery room when I called you. The empty pottery room."
And so this was it. Alanna knew it all had to come out sooner or later. There were two ways to play this, of course. She could make something up, tell him that she'd been out having a meal with a friend and meant that she planned to go back to the studio and that any time when she was planning to work there qualified as being 'at the studio'. Or, she could tell the truth.
"Alex—”
"I know you don't think I pay attention when you talk," he continued, not letting her interrupt more. "And yeah, maybe I'm not always the most interested, but I'm listening. I've noticed things've been different lately, and I thought, so what? Maybe she's tired. She's been working a lot. Which, by the way, is why I wanted to do something nice for you today. But you
weren't there, and it makes me wonder if you're ever there when you say you are."
"Of course I'm there," Alanna snapped, irritated. "How else do you think all my pieces get made?"
"Well, what am I supposed to think when you lie to me, Alanna?" Alex retorted. “And yeah, I’m sure there’s some perfectly believable alternative to what I think was going on, so why don’t you tell me? Where were you?”
There was something like desperation in his voice as he asked the question, and all at once Alanna was tired. She didn’t want to have some circular argument about it, and she didn’t want to lie.
So she told him the truth. She told him about Keith and how they had been meeting at Pebbles on Saturdays, having lunch and talking about art. She told him how they had kissed and how Keith had touched her, made her feel good. She told him how for the longest time, she’d had so much trouble with the fact that Alex didn’t even seem interested in her work or what she had to say about it and how Keith had come along and changed all of that.
“So you cheated on me because I’m not an artist?” Alex demanded, voice ringing with incredulity.
“No,” Alanna said. “That part wasn’t supposed to happen, it just...did.”
“It just did?” Alex asked, and now she could hear the anger there, too. He was upset, and she supposed he had every right to be. “Like you just were talking about art and all of a sudden he whipped his dick out and you were helpless to resist?”
Alanna gave him a look. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being dramatic?” he demanded. “How am I being dramatic? I just wanted to do something nice for you, make an effort, and I find out you’ve been sleeping with some other guy for weeks now! I think this is the right amount of reaction to that.”
“Maybe it was too late to make an effort, Alex.”
Her words fell like heavy stones, marking the end of this thing. She knew how it would go from here. They could argue and yell and try to place blame, but it was obvious what was going to happen now. They were going to break up. It was the only thing that could happen now. Alanna had cheated, Alex was outraged, and while she felt bad for betraying his trust like that, she didn’t want to beg him to forgive her. She didn’t want to work hard for something she didn’t believe in.
