His Work of Art

by Shannyn Schroeder

  She then wondered why Adam and his friend chose to live here. He’d said his friend was a musician. It seemed like an odd choice. She found some parking down the block from the two-flat that Adam lived in. She raced up the sidewalk because the wind had picked up and slashed against her cheeks. Stomping her feet for warmth, she rang the bell. Adam met her at the door.

  He held out a little piece of paper. “You need to put this on your dash. Permit parking.”

  She groaned. “Here.” She handed him her bag. “I’ll be right back.” She jogged back down the block and put the permit in the window and ran back. By the time she got inside, her lungs were burning both from being out of breath and from the cold.

  “Sorry. I just remembered about the permit.”

  “Permit parking is stupid.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s the city. Come on in and warm up.” He led the way into the first-floor apartment.

  The door opened into a huge living room–dining room combination. What should’ve been the living room looked more like a music studio, with instruments lined up everywhere, along with amps and speakers. The dining room space was being used as the living room with a single comfy-looking couch and TV unit. They had milk crates for a coffee table.

  “Where are we going to work?”

  “I have drafting tables in my bedroom.” He stopped mid-stride, as if realizing what he’d just said. “Unless that makes you uncomfortable. Then we can work in here on the floor.”

  “I’m fine wherever. I think I can trust you to behave yourself. Or have you been secretly doing all of this work on my comic as a ploy to get me to your bedroom all along? Maybe it’s not even a bedroom, but a dungeon and you plan to chain me up.”

  He laughed, but it was one of those uncomfortable, you-sound-crazy kinds of laughs. He shoved a door open. “Totally normal bedroom.”

  She sighed. “I’m a little disappointed.”

  “You’re weird.”

  She couldn’t stop the smile. “I know. And you like me anyway.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  She stepped into his bedroom and he hadn’t lied. His bed was pushed into a corner to make room for two drafting tables on the opposite wall. A cheap nightstand stood beside the bed. A small bookcase sat behind the door, but that was it for furniture.

  Reese dropped her bag beside one of the tables.

  “Oh, shit. Hang on.” Adam left the room and returned with a chair. “It was either this or the little stool Hunter uses for his drums.”

  “That’s fine.” It was a battered, old dining room chair and looked far from comfortable, but she could always sit on his bed and talk. He needed the desk more than she did.

  Adam sat on his stool, one that spun in circles and sat on rollers, but didn’t appear much more comfortable than the chair she had. She pulled her notebook out. “I reworked the story for the first book featuring Lyrid. I wrote in the mentor. It’s up to you to decide if I got it right.”

  She flipped to the page and handed him the book. Again, she found herself waiting while he read. She should have sent him the story ahead of time to be more efficient. Waiting was painful.

  Luckily, Adam was a fast reader. He set the notebook on the desk and spun to face her. “It’s missing something. There’s not enough action. You’ve introduced the mentor, who still doesn’t have a name, but all he does is watch. He’s not a mentor yet. We don’t know who he is, and that’s all right, but other than Alexis freaking out and doing her mind-control stuff, nothing happens.”

  “Stuff happens.” She grabbed the book and scanned for examples. While she reread her work, she tried to imagine it on the page, what each panel would show. Two pages in, she knew she’d messed up. “Damn. How did I screw that up so badly?”

  “It’s not screwed up. You just cut so much from the earlier draft, the flashbacks, that you lost all action. It’s like this is a continuation of her origin story. We don’t need that now. What if we just skip to the part where she decides to use her powers for good? Or at least decides to use them at all?”

  Even as he spoke, new ideas entered Reese’s mind. She saw plot points as pictures. Excitement sparked just like it had when they’d first discussed her writing an origin story for Lyrid. She grabbed her notebook and began to scribble description and dialogue for each panel. As soon as she had a panel written, she ripped the page from the notebook and handed it to Adam to start sketching.

  For an hour they worked seamlessly, barely saying more than a few words to each other. They’d reached the climax of the story, where Alexis would meet her mentor. Gunner. That would be his name.

  She set the notebook back down and waited for Adam to sketch, but he moved too slowly. Snaking her right hand around his left as his pencil shaded something, she created a text box and wrote, “Gunner watches Alexis from the shadows.”

  The sensitive skin on the inside of her arm skimmed along Adam’s. His warmth spread across her and she focused on the letters in front of her.

  “What are you doing?”

  Reese tilted her head and looked at him from under her lashes before going back to her lettering. “You’re taking too long. He has a name.”

  Adam’s hand stopped moving on the page, and she missed the friction against her own skin. They sat shoulder to shoulder and she felt Adam’s eyes on her.

  “In my defense, sketching people takes longer than writing a few words.”

  “I know. I’m impatient.”

  Adam flipped his pencil deeper between his fingers and used his tips to push her hand away. “Gunner, huh?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Why does he only watch from the shadows?” Adam asked.

  His breath whispered across her cheek. Her voice lowered as she spoke. “Because he knows her. He sees her even though she tries to remain invisible.”

  “When does he come out of the shadows?”

  Reese tilted her head slightly and her eyes rose to meet Adam’s. “When he sees she needs him. He likes the shadows. He likes to watch, to keep his distance.”

  “Until he can’t.”

  Her heart thumped in her chest. The dark gray of Adam’s eyes was nearly swallowed by his pupils. Oxygen leaked into her lungs. She nodded in understanding—both for the words he said and the action she hoped he’d take.

  His movement was infinitesimal as his gaze swept over her face and landed on her lips. Her eyelids fluttered. She wanted this so badly.

  Adam said nothing as he closed the remaining distance between their mouths. His full lips caressed hers before opening and interlocking with hers. She sighed with relief and enjoyment. He shifted and tilted to change the angle, but made no other movement to touch her.

  She surged forward, dropping her pencil and turning her body to fully face him. Opening her lips, she swiped her tongue against his. Oh man, did he feel good.

  A thunk at the other end of the house registered in her head, but she didn’t move.

  “Yo, Adam. I need help.”

  At the sound of his name, Adam shot back away from her, his stool sliding against the floor. His chest rose and fell in the same fast succession as hers did.

  “I . . . uh . . . sorry. I don’t know what that was.”

  Reese smirked, but before she could respond, Adam’s friend was standing in the doorway.

  “Oh, hey. I have the booze for the party. I need help carrying it in.”

  “I thought you were working tonight.”

  He shrugged. “They canceled the second set. The place was empty. No one wants to go out in the cold.” He stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Hunter.”

  Reese extended a hand. “Reese.”

  “I’ve seen you before. The comic shop, right?”

  “Yeah.” She stood. “I can help you carry stuff in.”

  Adam rushed past her. “We got it.”

  “Don’t listen to him. I’m double-parked and we can use help.”

  Adam ran out the front door without his coat and hoped the frigid air wo
uld cool his entire system. He had no idea what had come over him. Reese was just so close and she smelled good and the soft skin of her arms brushed against his. Then she spoke in that whispery, husky voice and he about blew a nut right there.

  He pulled the hatch open on Hunter’s van and leaned in to grab a box. Behind him he heard, “You drive a minivan? Cute.”

  Crap. Why couldn’t she have just waited inside?

  “Not cute. Practical. It hauls all of my music equipment,” Hunter answered.

  Adam hefted a box, glass clinking together inside, and stepped back. “Where’d all this come from?”

  “The manager at work got us an excellent deal.”

  Hunter’s smile told Adam he didn’t want to know what the deal was. He walked around Hunter and used the box to shield the half boner he still sported. Behind him, Reese laughed. The sound echoed across the empty block and sent a shiver down his spine. She had a great laugh.

  He stomped up the stairs and slid the box onto the floor. When he turned, both Hunter and Reese were right behind him. Hunter handed him a box. “I gotta go park. Take care of this.”

  He accepted the box and Reese followed him into the living room, where they both set their boxes against the wall behind the couch. He exhaled a deep breath. “Hey, about . . .” He pointed toward the bedroom.

  The smile disappeared from her face. She toed the box of alcohol closer to the wall. “Don’t worry about it. We were caught up in the moment. A lot of tension as we created great stuff.”

  His shoulders relaxed. Her reaction was a little too easy, which bugged him, even though it was what he’d wanted. He knew it wasn’t right, but he’d thought she wanted the kiss, that it was more than being caught up in the moment.

  “So . . . I was thinking that for the overall relationship between Gunner and Lyrid . . .” She paused and looked directly into his eyes. “I think they need to hook up.”

  “No way. That’ll never work.”

  “Why not?”

  “A ton of reasons.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “He’s her mentor. He’s older than she is and a felon. He’s supposed to protect her.” Adam sighed and gave voice to the biggest reason. “You’ll alienate readers with an interracial couple.”

  Reese stiffened and then stepped closer, anger blazing in her eyes. “They belong together because they understand each other in ways no one else can. It’s our story. If readers don’t like it, they don’t have to read it.”

  Just then, Hunter came back into the apartment with yet another box. “Dude, we are going to be so hammered next week.”

  He crossed the room and added his box to the stack, oblivious to the tension between Adam and Reese. “I have my flyer designed and ready for copies. You have a date yet?”

  Adam swallowed hard. He hadn’t given a date any thought.

  “Invite the world it is, then.” Hunter rubbed his hands together like an evil genius.

  “I have a date. Reese is coming.” He said it and then hoped Reese would be willing to play along. He stared at her. “Hunter agreed to keep the guest list for our annual New Year’s Eve party manageable as long as both Free and I had dates.”

  Her eyes were wide as she absorbed what he said. He willed her to understand and not blow this. Last year was a disaster.

  “And why would you want a party to be manageable?” she asked. Her tone was still a little stiff, and Adam feared where she was going with this.

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Hunter said.

  Adam shot him a dirty look. “Because last year, our apartment was filled with a bunch of strangers who wouldn’t leave. They puked everywhere, broke our table, and got the cops called.”

  Her face broke out in a soft smile. “Oh. Well, then, I guess it’s good that I’m here to help you hold up your end of the bargain, huh?”

  Adam got the impression that he was going to pay dearly for this. He looked at Hunter, who was already opening his saxophone case. “Keep it down tonight, would you? We have work to do.”

  “Gotcha.” He winked at Reese, which annoyed Adam. “See you later.”

  As they walked back to his bedroom, Reese said, “Your roommate’s cute. What’s the deal about the date?”

  “Hunter always has a date. Always. He believes if we don’t have dates for our own party, it makes us losers. Thanks for not giving me away back there. I swear I still smell puke in certain corners of the apartment.”

  Her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I didn’t need to know that.”

  “Anyway, you don’t really have to come to the party. He knows I have a date and that’s all that matters.” He tucked his hands in his pockets because he really wanted to reach out and pull her close again. He needed to get a handle on this attraction or they’d never get any work done.

  “You’re in luck because I haven’t made any plans yet.”

  Damn. He didn’t think she’d want to come. “Cool. We start around seven, but you can show up whenever.” He edged back to his stool to work.

  “Don’t think we won’t be revisiting Gunner and Lyrid’s relationship.”

  He knew he wouldn’t get off that easy. As he swiveled into place, Reese scooted her chair a little farther away. She picked up the pages he’d already sketched and began adding text and dialogue. They worked in silence, except for the whiny sound of a blues song that Hunter played on the other side of the apartment. Adam didn’t know which was more distracting, having Reese close enough to touch or having her ignore him completely.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her. It had been a mistake, and he had to keep reminding himself of that. They had a good friendship going, as well as an excellent partnership for work.

  Besides, as a couple they would never make it. One look at his parents and he knew that. The thought made him a little sick because it was wrong, as wrong as Reese assuming his race didn’t matter. Maybe not to him or her, but to plenty of other people, it did matter. He didn’t want the complications that would come from that.

  Which made him feel like a total shit.

  Chapter 8

  Reese tormented herself all week. She couldn’t reconcile the steamy kiss she’d shared with Adam with his attitude that they shouldn’t have done it. For all the times she was sure that he wasn’t interested in her, that kiss said different. Now she was faced with going to a New Year’s Eve party with him and his friends and a bunch of strangers. Maybe in the relaxed atmosphere of a party, she could get him to open up to figure out what he was thinking.

  She looked at her wardrobe, not knowing what to wear to the party. Nothing screamed kiss me like that again, so she’d called Julie to ask for help. She had no idea why she continued to stare at her closet like something would change. Jeans, cargo pants, T-shirts, and sweatshirts. She only owned one dress, and that was for funerals. She needed something sexy.

  From the other side of the apartment, her mom called, “Julie’s here!”

  “Come in,” Reese yelled.

  Julie walked into the bedroom carrying a filled garment bag. Reese didn’t even own a garment bag. Laying the bag on the bed, Julie said, “I brought a bunch of stuff because you didn’t say how formal this thing is.”

  Reese shrugged. “A party at Adam’s apartment. Not formal at all, I guess.”

  “What look are you going for?”

  Another shrug.

  One of Julie’s eyebrows winged up.

  “Fine. I want to be sexy. I want him to have to pick his tongue up off the floor. I want him to kiss me like he did last week.”

  Julie’s arms dropped from where they were unzippering the bag. “He kissed you?”

  Reese nodded. “It was so great. Until his roommate interrupted and then Adam apologized, so I let it go.” She was still kicking herself for that. She should’ve kissed him again and turned his world upside down. But he’d seemed so confused by everything that she’d taken pity on him.

  “So our mission is to wow his socks off.” Julie flipped through some of the clothes
on hangers, shaking her head or making faces at each as she moved by.

  Reese tried to look over her shoulder to check out the choices, but Julie blocked her view.

  “This,” she finally said and straightened while tugging a dress from the pile.

  Reese stared at it. Calling it a dress was optimistic. It looked like a tube with a complicated maze of straps on the top. “What is that?”

  “Trust me.” Julie took it off the hanger and held it against Reese. It barely reached mid-thigh. Given that Julie was a few inches taller, it probably just covered her ass.

  How was Reese supposed to walk in this?

  “Just try it on.”

  Julie handed her the dress and waited while Reese stripped down to her bra and panties. Julie pointed at her chest. “No bra. It’s built in.”

  Reese tossed her bra, shimmied into the dress, and tried to figure out how to make the straps look right. Julie tugged and pulled and showed her how it worked. It was freezing in the skimpy dress. Julie dragged her over to the mirror.

  The complicated straps wove across her right shoulder, but her left one remained bare. The dress was clingy, but not suffocating. She turned, looking at her whole body, and felt exposed, but she was sexy. “How do you do this every day?”

  “Do what?” Julie asked.

  “Dress like this. It takes a lot of work and it’s not that comfortable.” She turned again, liking the way the material showed off her curves.

  “I don’t dress up every day. I dress for the part I’m playing. I look professional because I want to be taken seriously. When I’m on a date, I want the guy to wonder what’s going on underneath my clothes. But when I’m home watching TV and munching on popcorn, I’m all about my yoga pants.”

  Reese laughed. She couldn’t imagine Julie looking anything other than perfect.

  “You’re going to want fancy shoes, so I brought a few pairs. No combat boots with this dress.”

  While Reese hadn’t really thought about wearing boots, she cringed at the sight of the heels Julie pulled out of the bag. “I can’t wear those.”