by M. Leighton
Man, I wish I could see him.
But then again, maybe I don’t. That might make things worse.
I already know this is going to end badly for me. It always does. But I can’t seem to help myself. I’m so attracted to him. He makes me feel pretty and normal and worthy of his attention, something I don’t often feel with men anymore. It’s a dangerous combination.
But maybe this way, knowing that I can expect four really good dates, it won’t hurt as much when things go sideways. Because I know they will. But maybe, just maybe, I can get out of this in one piece. That alone would probably be a miracle. I’m playing with fire, and that always ends with getting burned.
I know the moment we leave the concrete and steel behind for something more natural. All my remaining senses are triggered at once.
“We’re in the park,” I deduce, pausing to inhale deeply.
“How did you know?”
“I can feel it. Smell it. Hear it.”
“I thought you might just say you knew where we were going.”
I laugh. “Let’s just go with that then. Either way, we’re at the park. I’ve always loved parks, maybe even more so now that I can’t see them.”
“Why is that?”
“They’re like beautiful sights, but for my other senses. That’s how I ‘see’ now. I use every other piece of information I can gather, and I form my own mental images.”
“You probably get more out of this than I do because you’re blind.”
“Maybe.”
“Tell me what you see.”
I close my unseeing eyes and turn my face up toward the sky, taking another deep breath. “It’s at least five degrees cooler here, and the sunlight is dappled, probably through the leaves on the trees. I can feel patches of its warmth on my skin. It warms the ground, too. Fills the air with the smell of damp earth and fresh cut grass. And I hear the sound of rushing water. A lot of it, not just a creek. I can tell the river is nearby.”
“Very good.” His voice tells of how impressed he actually is.
“What color is it today?”
“What?”
“The river.”
“Dirty.”
I laugh. “It’s called the Red River. I’m sure it always looks dirty. I’ve never actually seen it, but I’ve heard descriptions of it. Read about it. But tell me what it looks like today.”
He pauses, actually putting thought into what he’s seeing, which makes me feel gratified, like I’m opening his eyes. I’m enriching his life.
“There’s a big ray of sun shining into it, so it looks a little bit like those big rock formations out in Arizona. The same color, that dusty red look.”
“Yes,” I whisper, perfectly able to visualize that exact shade. “I know the color. And what about the trees?”
“The leaves that are in the shade are a dark, dark green. Like…fresh basil.”
“And the sky?”
“Between the huge, puffy clouds, it’s a pale blue.”
“How pale?”
“Like glaciers. That nearly translucent blue. You know the color I’m talking about?”
“I do. Arctic blue. There are no bubbles in the ice crystals that form on the glaciers after it snows, and it makes them look a beautiful light blue. I can imagine it perfectly. If I had my paints, I could paint it all right now.”
“I’d love to see what you’d make of this.”
“Nothing that could come close to the natural beauty, I’m sure.”
“That’s where I think you’re wrong. We’re surrounded by beauty all the time. We take it for granted. It takes someone like you to bring it out, make us aware of it. I think days like today are more beautiful because of the way you see them. And when you paint it, then the rest of us see it.”
“That might be the most genuine compliment you’ve paid me yet.”
“Everything I’ve said about you is true. You’re remarkable. Stunning. Kind. Entertaining as hell. In possession of a seriously incredible ass. I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you. Except the part about being easy. That was wishful thinking on my part.”
His ending remark, after such a thrilling sentiment, catches me off guard and a snort of laughter escapes.
“And you snort.”
“Pardon me.”
“Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more perfect.”
I swallow my pleasure at his words. “No? Just wait until you see me run.”
Suddenly, I’m excited to jog in the fresh air, on a real trail, with a man I like at my side. My fear of falling, of making a fool of myself, of getting hurt, has taken a back seat to the exhilaration of it all. Right now, I just feel…brave. And alive.
“I don’t know if it will work or not, but I figured I could run close at your side. Close enough that you can feel my arm brushing yours to guide you. That’s what I read anyway.”
“Why are you so determined to do this?”
“Because I want to.”
“But why?”
“You had to give up so much because of what happened to you. During my four—or more—dates, I’d like to give you a little of that back. I’d like to make giving me a chance worth it.”
My heart. Sweet Jesus!
You will not cry, Evie! You will not cry.
I don’t speak for several seconds, afraid he’ll be able to hear the emotion in my voice. Actually, I’m not sure I could speak if I tried anyway. But when I finally do, “Thank you,” is all I manage to eke out.
I’m glad for the sunglasses that hide the tears I feel welling in my eyes.
“Okay, let’s give this a try and pray that you don’t lose a tooth and make me eat my words.”
“Wait, what?” I ask incredulously. “You said—”
He doesn’t let me finish. And I get no answer. All I hear is laughter as Levi pulls me along beside him into a slow, leisurely jog.
********
I guess it’s nearly an hour later when we slow to a stop. We’re both breathing heavily, and I have beads of sweat on my upper lip, but I can’t remember feeling this good in ages.
“No stamina?” I tease with a grin. “You should’ve told me you tire quickly.”
“This is not where my stamina is. I have insane stamina in all the ways that matter.”
Before I can comment, my phone rings. It’s set up to tell me aloud who’s calling based on the caller ID. That’s how I know it’s Cherelyn.
I dig the device out of my tight front pocket.
“Evie’s Eyeware Emporium,” I answer pluckily, contentment practically oozing from my pores.
“Good God, what the hell’s the matter with you?”
I half-laugh, half-pant trying to catch my breath. “I’ve been running.”
“Running? Why? Who’s chasing you?”
I think of Levi, and I smile. “Nobody. I just came out for a run.”
“Out? You’re not at the gym?”
“Nope. I ran a trail through the park and along the river.”
I can’t help the pride that’s in my voice. I feel like an acrophobic who just climbed Mount Everest.
Okay, comparing my fear of running with a crippling fear of heights might be a slight exaggeration, but right now, I don’t care. I just feel great.
“Are you alone?”
“No, I’m with Levi.”
“Levi? The guy from class and the show?”
“Yep.”
“Ahhhh. That makes sense. Well, I’ll be quick then. Evie,” she says before a long, dramatic pause, “I have news. About the show.”
My pulse bumps up into an erratic rhythm. I’ve known Cherelyn too long not to recognize bubbles of elation in her voice when I hear them. “Okay. What is it?”
“You might need to sit down.”
“I’m outside. I can’t.”
“Then have that gorgeous man hold you.”
“Cherelyn,” I warn. “What is it?”
“I could wait if you want. If you’d rather talk about
it later.”
Now she’s just trying to torture me. “Woman! What is it?”
“Well, it’s kind of like…you know when you…and there’s a clown and things get weird and…”
“Jesus, just tell me already!” I shriek excitedly.
“Lady sold. The funds cleared this morning.”
I gasp. “What?”
Cherelyn squeals into my ear, and I jerk the phone away, the high pitch of it like a knife to my eardrum. When she calms, I bring the phone back.
“Someone bought Lady.”
“Who? Who bought her?”
“A private collector. Won’t give a name. Just a corporation, but that’s not the point. Someone paid you forty thousand dollars for a painting!”
I’m dumbstruck. Lady was one of my most personal paintings. A self-portrait of sorts, my interpretation of the woman I was when I could see. She’s special to me, and I didn’t really want to sell her, which is why her price tag was so steep. I never thought anyone would pay that. Not from an unknown artist from Nowhere, USA.
But someone did.
Someone loved her enough to pay forty thousand dollars for her.
I clamp my hand over my mouth, but I can’t squelch the laughter squeezing out around my fingers.
“I couldn’t wait to tell you, but I’m done now, so I want you to go celebrate with that dude. Preferably naked. With some oil and plastic sheets. Maybe some lightweight rope. Call me later. Love you.” She makes a smooching sound into the phone before it goes dead. She does that all the time—hangs up before I’m ready, but I don’t even care right now. Not today.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!” I throw out my arms, laughing maniacally as I spin in circles until my head is so dizzy I don’t know which way is up. I sway woozily, but rather than losing my balance and falling, I tip into the strong arms of Levi. It seems they’re always around to save me when I need saving.
Impulsively, I loop my arms around his neck and smash my mouth to his. Levi goes completely still, but just before I pull back, I feel his lips soften, like he might’ve been going to deepen the kiss.
But I’m too giddy with the good news to be embarrassed by my actions. I let my head drop back, and I go limp, feeling safe and secure in the tight hold of Levi’s thick, muscular arms. I feel like reveling, and he seems to feel like letting me.
It’s only when I quiet (somewhat) that he asks, “Good news?”
“The best! Someone bought my most expensive painting at the show the other night. The funds cleared this morning.”
“That’s great! Is that the first painting you’ve sold?”
“No, but it’s the most expensive. And I’m going to use every dime of the money to put toward my surgery.”
“Surgery?”
Levi straightens. When he does, he’s standing so close our thighs are touching. He doesn’t bother to release me, just keeps a loose hold on me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Yes. The type of blindness I have is from the trauma of the car accident. There’s no way to correct it, but my doctor told me a couple of years ago about an experimental surgery that could have a significant impact on my vision. The insurance will only pay for forty percent of it, though, so I have to come up with the rest on my own. But, Levi! I just sold a painting that will go a long way toward making up my portion of the surgery. Levi!” I say breathlessly. My chest is so tight with happiness and exhilaration, I’m finding it hard to make my lungs work.
“Evie!”
“There’s a chance I could see again. At least somewhat. More than just brightness. If the surgery works, I could see real shapes and maybe even some colors. They’d be blurry, but still… And there’s a chance it could restore even more than that. Levi, do you know what this means?”
“Well, since I understand the English language, I’m guessing it means you’d be able to see.”
“It means I’d be able to seeeeee!”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds as I fling my arms back again, feeling free as a bird in the wide open sky.
“I know what I have to do,” he finally mutters solemnly.
His tone brings me up short. “What?”
“I need to take you to the bayou.”
“The bayou? Why?”
“You said that’s where you want to go, and if I take you there and you get inspired, that means you’ll paint more. If you paint more, you’ll sell more. If you sell more, you can get your surgery quicker. In essence, I will be instrumental in giving you back your sight. I’m pretty sure that would at the very least earn me a few kisses. Maybe some second base action.”
I can’t help smiling. “I just kissed you.”
“No, your mouth ran into my mouth when you got excited. Not at all what I had in mind.”
“Are you complaining?”
“No, I’m definitely not complaining. It was quite a pleasurable collision.”
“Because, you know, there’s a distinct possibility that could happen again. Under the right circumstances, that is.”
“I’m counting on it,” he whispers, his lips suddenly close to my ear. “Now let’s get you home. You need to shower and dress for dinner tonight. We’re going out to celebrate.”
I don’t bother arguing. Not only do I not want to argue, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t do me any good if I did.
“Levi?” I begin again, feeling feather-light and elated and invincible.
“Evie?”
“What color are your eyes?”
“Pardon?”
“What color are your eyes?” I repeat, a knot of glee pulsing at the base of my throat.
“Blue.”
“What color blue?” It shouldn’t matter, but it does. It matters as much as my next breath. I feel like I have to know. I have to know what color his eyes are.
He gives it a few seconds thought. “Dark blue. Like… I don’t know. Denim maybe.”
“Denim blue.”
“Yeah, denim blue.” After a short pause, he adds, “Levi’s blue.”
I bet he’s grinning slyly.
I grin back, my heart near bursting with happiness.
“Levi’s blue.”
That will forever be the color of happiness in my mind.
CHAPTER 8
LEVI
“HOLY SHIT, you look hot!” I blurt when Evie answers the door a few hours later. She’s wearing pencil-slim black pants that fit her to perfection and a sparkly green sweater that falls off one shoulder and sets off the cream of her skin.
“Now I think you’re just trying to shock me.”
“Makes you smile, doesn’t it?” I ask, stepping through the door she’s holding open.
“That it does.”
“You really shouldn’t open the door, you know.”
“How will I ever get outside?”
“Wise ass,” I murmur.
“What is this obsession with my ass?” she asks in her sassy way as she walks across a brightly furnished living room.
Her steps are sure and easy. She’s comfortable here. That much is clear.
“Ha. Ha.”
She jerks upright from where she was bending to feel for her purse in one of the two armless chairs facing a bank of windows on the other wall. “What? No witty response?”
“You just bent over in front of me. I was struck temporarily speechless. You’ve gotta give me a second.”
“That’s a little more like it.”
“But like I could deny being obsessed with your ass. You know damn well I am. Hell, I even told the doorman at my hotel about it.”
“Oh God, I hope you’re joking.” When I say nothing, she asks more slowly, “You are joking, right?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Uh, I’m not sure if I would or not.”
“Let’s just say you’re well on your way to having a famous ass.”
“Is that your way of saying my ass gets around?”
I laugh. “And you call
me incorrigible?”
“I would never!” She mocks outrage.
“No, of course not. Blind women don’t have thorns.”
“I am all soft petals and sweet aroma, thank you very much.” She sniffs haughtily, brushing her shiny blonde hair away from her cheek. All I can think about is pulling her into my arms and kissing that smart little mouth of hers.
“I have no doubt you’re soft and sweet in all the right places,” I murmur just loud enough for her to hear.
She goes quiet, and I know she feels it, too—the way this insane pull between us cranks up a few more notches, the way our attraction snaps and sizzles in the air like an arc of electricity stretching from one to the other.
“So, this is how you two talk to each other?”
A woman about the same height as Evie’s five-six or so comes out of a room to the left, fastening an earring as she walks. She has chin-length dirty blonde hair, pointed, pixie features, and her heels are so high, if she falls, she’ll surely break a hip.
“Always,” Evie answers, smiling. “Levi, meet Cherelyn Smith. Cherelyn, this is Levi…” She pauses, her cheeks blooming with color. “I just realized I don’t know your last name.”
“Michaelson,” I supply. “Levi Michaelson. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” they both say in unison.
“Any relation to the senator from New York?” Cherelyn asks.
I swallow. “Can I plead the fifth?”
It’s Evie who busts me on my answer. “Pleading the fifth again? Just how many skeletons do you have in the closet?”
“It’s a damn graveyard in there.”
She nods. “A man of intrigue. I like it.” Unfazed, she glances in the general direction of Cherelyn and bids her goodnight. “See you tonight. I hope it goes well.” Evie turns back in my general direction when she explains, “She’s attending an event she’s been planning for a month. It’s a sweet sixteen party for the daughter of an oil magnate. It could mean a lot of repeat business for her if it goes well.”
“Ahhh,” I acknowledge, nodding as I tuck my hands into my pockets. “Good luck then.”
No offense to Evie, but I’m not the least bit interested in her friend. I just want to get out of here and have her all to myself.
Evie has just started toward me when Cherelyn stops her.
“Wait. Can’t you tell me a story before you go? This girl’s mother is the worst! I’m so nervous.”
