Page 28 of I Knew You Were Trouble
His lip twitches in the corner, like he’s either impressed or amused—or both—by my confidence. I mean, forget the fact that my feet are ready to bolt again. My toes curl, hidden in my red and blue Converse sneakers. I force my free hand on my knee and dig my nails into the fabric of my pants, keeping my legs from bouncing and bouncing and bouncing.
It’s okay, darn it. You can’t see anything, Candace. Just paint his chest for now.
My phone buzzes on my easel, and I praise the Lord for the wonderful distraction in a time of need. I casually—well, as casually as I can muster—drop my gaze from Zach and my painting and put my brush down.
It’s Pete. I tap on his face, and a message and picture pops on the screen.
Think a ten-year-old will like it?
It’s his tree set up in a cozy corner of what I’m assuming is his apartment. It’s either surprisingly clean or he’s really good at not showing me the mess around it. Guess he’s not at work.
Cute! Are you going to let her decorate it?
It is decorated… It’s purple.
I tilt my head, my brows furrowing. He really thinks he can get away with a bare tree?
There are no ornaments on it.
I gotta put ornaments on it?
My shoulders shake in silent laughter, and I shake my head.
Yes… and tinsel wouldn’t hurt. A star or an angel up top, too.
Ugh.
You got this.
Do it for me? You’re the artist.
That will require me to see your house.
That’s right. Never mind.
The bridge of my nose wrinkles, and my brows narrow.I won’t judge you.
You judge me already. ;)
Then you have nothing to worry about.
There’s a pause before he messages back, but it’s not long enough for me to get back to painting. The banter is calming all my buzzed up nerves.
Wait… are you texting in class right now?
I nibble on my lip.Maybe…
Killing that spider has changed you.
I laugh again, and Miss Barley coughs, giving me the stink eye about having my phone out. It’s not exactly a rule to have no phones, but she did say that art needs no distractions. I mouth a “sorry” and slip my phone into my pocket, proving to Pete that no… I haven’t really changed. But hey, I’m getting looser and looser by the minute.
Wait… that sounds bad.
Zach shifts, and my eyes drift in his direction. He meets my gaze over my canvas, a glint resting in his blue, blue irises. What an enigma, that boy. He tells me I’m not his type then he goes and stares at me all sexy-like? Tease.
I pick up my brush and get back to work on his tattoos. I’ll focus on his shoulder and neck during this class and hopefully by the time I get to his penis, Pete will have me trained to handle that sort of thing without declaring indigestion.
Forty-three minutes later, Miss Barley gives us the five minute warning so we can finish up and clean our areas. I sit straight on the stool, stretching the back muscles that hate me because of my habit of hunching.
