“This whole exhibition is in black and white,” Art says. “It’s calledMonochrome. It’s the first major show on the subject.”
I glance up at his face. “Did you study art at school?”
“Only up to A-level. I was sick of school by then. I did well, but I knew what I wanted to do. I was obsessed. I went to every tattoo shop in London and begged until someone took me on as an apprentice. That was ten years ago now. I learned my craft then started up on my own.”
“I love how you knew what you wanted to do with your life, even from that age. I’m twenty-five, and I still have no idea.”
“I don’t think that’s too unusual. You seem like a smart woman. You’ll figure it out.”
I smile back at him. “Thanks.”
We walk farther into the gallery, moving from one piece to the next.
“Why black and white,” I ask, “when there is so much colour in the world?”
He shrugs. “I don’t see it just as black and white. There are so many shades in between. It’s easy to create something beautiful when you can use every colour under the sun. I’d like to say that I saw working in black and white as more of a challenge, but that would be lying. I can’t explain it exactly. I don’t think I chose that medium, I kind of felt like it chose me.”
“I never took you as such a hippy.”
He nudges me in the side, playfully. “Careful, or I’ll start getting in touch with my feminine side.”
“Art, I don’t think you’ve got a feminine bone in your body.”
11
ART
Ilove being able to study Tess’s face as she absorbs the paintings and drawings hung on the walls of the gallery. I’ve never done this with a woman—taken her somewhere that means something to me. I don’t know why this particular woman affects me in such a way, but she does. The last couple of days have been torture, wondering if I was going to see her. I’d been able to hear her moving around the flat upstairs, picturing exactly where she was and what she was doing by the sound and position of her footfalls. I’d wanted to go up and speak to her, but my male pride, and fear that she regretted what had happened between us, had prevented me from doing so. A part of me still worries this is going to end up complicated. She’s my landlady, plus she lives above the shop. If this all goes wrong, things could get seriously awkward.
I know all this, and yet I still hadn’t been able to stop myself from talking my way into getting her to spend the rest of the day with me. It had been easier to stay away when I’d not been able to see her, but the moment she’d been there, standing right in front of me, I hadn’t been able to stop myself.
Taking a risk, I reach to Tess, my hand bumping hers. I judge her reaction—whether or not she pulls away. But she doesn’t, soI go a step further, lacing my fingers between hers. Her hand is as tiny as the rest of her, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from dragging her against me, and scooping her up. She’s cute, and fiery, and she seems interested in me, not just because I have muscles and tattoos, but genuinely interested in the person I am beneath it all. I’ve only known one other woman who’d been like that, and she left me broken hearted many years ago. I’d made myself a promise I wouldn’t get involved with another woman, and yet here I am breaking that promise.
“So, what did you think?” I ask her, when we’ve made it all the way around the exhibition.
“It was awesome. I honestly never knew it was possible to do so much in black and white.”
I suppress a smile. “You thought it was boring, didn’t you?”
She smacks my arm. “No! Not boring. I loved that you love it.” She smiles and my heart tightens in my chest. “That was the best part for me.”
“Can I buy you a coffee?” I ask, wanting to drag out the length of our time together as much as possible.
Her face lights in a smile. “I think I can handle that.”
We take the stairs up to the next floor, where the café is advertised. It’s quieter up here, most people ending their day’s sightseeing now and heading back to their hotels.
We pass some conference rooms that appear empty. Acting impulsively, I grab her hand and push open one of the doors, jerking her inside.
“Art!”
I look down into her eyes. “I couldn’t go another second without kissing you.”
I don’t give her a chance to reply. I cup both my hands either side of her face, my fingers in her silky dark hair. I crush my mouth to hers, and she resists for only a second before her bodyrelaxes against me and her arms slide around the back of my neck.
My need for her surges up inside me. Since I first got a taste of her, I haven’t been able to concentrate on a single thing. Maybe another woman would have erased the thought of her from my head, but I hadn’t wanted that either.
I only want her.
