“Saw it online.” Poe shrugs. “I wouldn’t paint with anyone but you guys.”
I look over at Rose, who is eating this up. She’s trying and failing to press her lips together and swallow back her smile, but it keeps breaking free. She clears her throat when she spots me staring at her.
I want to say something witty and impress her, but I can’t come up with a line. The guys and I have been joking around, but it’s like I’m so aware of Rose and so aware of how I don’t want to mess anything up that I can’t seem to string together a decent sentence where she’s concerned. I just keep staring at her. Like an obsessed puppy, waiting for her to give me a treat.
Am I panting? Is my tail wagging out of control? Probably. I’m a mess. A slobbering, foolish, gone for her mess.
We paint for another thirty minutes, lobbing fake insults and jokes back and forth. Rose asks the guys some questions about the team, but she doesn’t seem too worried about getting information for the article.
“Alright. It is time.” Poe sets down his brush dramatically.
TJ makes a face. “Okay, Rafiki.”
Del starts humming the instrumental chorus fromThe Lion King.
Poe rolls his eyes before holding up his painting of TJ for everyone to see. “Well, Teej, I promise I love you more than my painting suggests.”
We all cackle. TJ shows off his painting of Poe, which looks like a cross between a LEGO figure and Frankenstein. Kennedy and Del go next, and we have a good laugh at the Sasquatch and Abominable Snowman lookalikes.
When it’s Rose’s and my turn to share our portraits, she starts by saying, “Painting has never been my gift,” before turning her canvas toward me.
I can’t help but grin at the curlicue of hair she’s painted over the top of my forehead. She’s made my jaw extra square, which I secretly love, and she’s painted me with a wide smile. I like seeing myself like this—through her eyes.
“It’s really good.” I take the canvas from her, studying it up close.
“There’s something about your eyes. Don’t think I could ever get them exactly right, even if I tried all night,” she mumbles, almost to herself.
I flick my gaze to hers, and we’re locked in like the snap of two magnets. She’s studying the eyes in question, and I’m doing the same. For the life of me, I can’t get words out.
“O-kay.” Kennedy slaps my back, severing the moment. He doesn’t know the backstory here, so I can’t blame him. “Show heryours, man. It’s good.”
I set down Rose’s painting of me and hold up the one I did of her. I spin it around for the other side of the table to see.
Rose’s jaw drops.
Del and TJ gape.
“Dude. What the heck? Are you good at everything?” TJ scowls at me before swiveling to glance at Rose. “It looks just like her.”
“Thanks,” I say. I don’t take my eyes off her.
She reaches over and grabs the canvas. Our fingers brush, my whole hand heats at the electric pop, and she sucks in a breath, but she doesn’t take her gaze off the portrait.
“Nice, man.” Del nods approvingly.
I dip my chin in response.
Finally Rose meets my gaze. “It’s beautiful.”
“You are.”
Rose’s cheeks turn scarlet.
Well, shoot.
Did I say that out loud?
“I mean…”
