Before It's Love Page 10

  “Yes,” I said. But I was so annoyed with him that it came out sounding short.

  He smiled. “Good. Maybe she’ll invite you back again.”

  Irma inclined her regal head towards me. “Of course, of course. She’s the only interesting person I’ve met in a decade or more.”

  Jake quirked an eyebrow at her. “That’s not saying much since you never leave the house except to go to church.”

  She flicked his words away with a graceful hand. “Nonsense. I go to the bank every Thursday morning.”

  Still shaking his head, Jake turned to me. “Well, I’m in desperate need of a shower. Are you ready to go?”

  “Whenever you are,” I said, still trying to regain my equilibrium. Talking to Jake about Nick always tied me in knots.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jake

  When I heard Lauren’s voice coming from the drawing studio Monday afternoon, I couldn’t resist going in. I found Rossi explaining the studio assistant job to her. I leaned against the wall and listened in, waiting for a chance to talk with her again. She wore cut-off denim shorts with the frayed edges a few inches above her knee and a purple t-shirt with a faded turquoise sun printed across the front, the sleeves rolled up to her shoulders. I didn’t blame her, it was a hot day and the air conditioning struggled to cool these big studios. Hopefully the weather would cool down soon now that it was September.

  I dusted off the surface of a drawing horse with my hand and sat down. I’d learned long ago that I’d walk out with black charcoal dust on my butt if I didn’t. Lauren saw me and smiled when I nodded to her, but turned back immediately to face Rossi. Her twitchy hands told me that I was making her nervous. Good. It was only fair with the effect she had on me.

  Rossi was in his element, instructing someone. He stood with his hands in his jeans pocket, rocking back and forth on his feet. Rossi always sounded pompous when he was giving instructions, something you learned to ignore because he was otherwise a decent guy.

  “You can set your own hours,” he said, “As long as things get done in time. My last class ends at two-o-clock, so any time after that you can put away the lights and model platforms unless I leave a note saying otherwise. Sweep the dust every day. It gets to be a nuisance quickly if you don’t. Then check if I’ve left any instructions for the next day. I may have you set up for me ahead of time. I can adjust the lighting when I get in.”

  “And what should I do for Mr. Chavez?”

  Rossi shrugged, appearing unconcerned. “He’ll tell you if he needs something. Honestly though, you probably won’t do much but scrape paint off the floor in the painting studio. The-powers-that-be have started to complain about it and the janitors don’t have the manpower.”

  “Okay, no problem,” Lauren said, her voice firm, as though she was worried people might still doubt her ability to do this job.

  “Great. Cooper can tell you what he needs, so I’ll leave you to it,” Rossi said, walking to the door. “There’s a form on my desk for you to record your hours.”

  When he was gone, Lauren looked across the room at me, her eyebrows raised. “Do you have something for me to do?”

  “No. And I won’t.”

  Her eyebrows stayed in place, obviously waiting for me to say something more. “Okay,” she said, drawing out the two syllables. “I’m going to get to work.”

  “Go ahead. Mind if I talk while you work?”

  She unplugged one of the two lamps trained on the model platform and began winding up the cord. “No. What’s up?”

  “Grams wanted me to invite you over to work in her studio again on Saturday.”

  “That’s so sweet. I think Nick has something planned, but I’ll come if I’m free.”

  “Great,” I said, though frustration churned within me at the mention of Nick. “Though you can come anytime you want.”

  She rolled the lamp back into the corner. “Good to know, because I’m honestly dying to go back.”

  She bent, grasping the handle cut in the side of the model platform and, with toned calves and surprisingly sculpted biceps, lifted the thing up onto its side. As she pushed it across the room, she walked through a pillar of sunlight and I saw the sheen of sweat on the back of her neck, curling the loose hair at the base of her ponytail.

  “What kind of soda do you like?” I asked, needing to put some space between us.

  She paused and looked over her shoulder to study me. Finally she said, “Grape or root beer.”

  “Got it. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Back in my office, I finished my grading and closed up for the day. Dropping my keys into my pocket, I walked to the vending machine at the end of the hall and bought a Coke for myself and an A&W for Lauren. With the two cold cans sweating in my hands, I carried them into the drawing studio and set hers down with a clink on a drawing horse.

  She glanced up from sweeping. “You don’t know how good that looks.”

  “Are you done yet?”

  Lauren looked and shrugged. “Not much more to do, honestly. I hope they have enough to keep me busy.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Take a load off.”

  I sat in Rossi’s chair because I knew Lauren wouldn’t dare to. She swept up the pile of black dust with a few candy wrappers mixed in and dumped it in the trash can. After putting the broom away, she picked up her can and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. She popped the can open and took a long chug worthy of a football lineman.

  Holding the can against her forehead, she said, “Do they turn the air off in the afternoon or something?”

  “No, the AC system just can’t keep up this time of day.”

  “Great. It’s supposed to be hot all week. How can you stand living in this sauna?”

  “Who said I could stand it? I’m heading for the pool as soon as I get home.”

  “Lucky. That sounds amazing.”

  I searched her face, trying to judge her mood. “You can come too—if you want.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s get going.”

  I stood and held out my free hand to her.

  She let me pull her up, but when she was standing again, I didn’t want to let go. My fingers flexed around hers, but I released her hand and dug my keys out of my pocket. I rattled them in my palm while Lauren picked up her backpack from where she’d dropped it near the doorway. We walked out together, cutting across the green lawn between the art building and the parking lot, pausing before we separated to go to our cars.

  “Give me twenty minutes or so,” she said.

  I nodded. “Meet you at the pool.”

  When I got back to my apartment, I hurried to change into some swim trunks and grab a towel. Excitement and guilt hummed in my veins. My window looked out on the pool and I saw it was blessedly empty. Most people were still at work this time of day, so we’d probably be alone the whole time. Thus, the excitement and guilt. But there was nothing wrong with two friends going swimming. Alone.

  Checking my phone, I saw I still had five minutes, so I grabbed some water bottles out of the fridge and a bag of chips. The longer I could keep her here the better. As I opened the pool gate, I considered running upstairs to look for some kind of candy, but heard girls’ voices around the corner.

  Wait, what? Who was with her?

  Lauren and Beth appeared, both wearing swimsuits. My shoulders dropped with disappointment.

  I dropped the water and chips on a table and walked over to open the gate for them. Lauren came through first, then Beth. Touching Beth’s shoulder, I leaned towards her whispering, “What are you doing here?”

  “I asked Lauren if I could tag along.” Then leaning even closer to me, she lowered her voice. “You two need a chaperone.”

  “No we don’t.”

  “Oh chill. You’ll barely know I’m here. I’m going to work on my tan and you two will avoid doing or saying anything you shouldn’t. Because, dude, she has a boyfriend.”

  “I hate you,
” I said, keeping my voice quiet so Lauren couldn’t hear. She was over at the edge of the pool already, about to dive in. I stopped in place, my eyes tracing the lines of her figure.

  “It’s not your feelings for me I’m worried about,” Beth said, one eyebrow lifted. She spread a towel over a lounge chair near the table where I’d dropped the snacks. Picking up the bag of chips, she ripped it open. “Awesome. I love sour cream and onion.”

  Well, I wasn’t getting rid of her anytime soon.

  I walked over to the deep end, and dove in after Lauren. She swam the length of the pool twice and I swam just behind her, though I could have overtaken her. On the last lap, I surfaced and saw her hanging onto the ladder at the deep end.

  Swimming close, I grasped the other side of the ladder for support while I treaded water and caught my breath. Her chest rose up and down as she breathed deeply and gems of water hung to her lashes and red lips.

  “This feels amazing,” she said, still a little out of breath. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

  “Sure. Let me know if you ever want to come again.”

  “Watch out. You might regret that when I bother you all the time.”

  “I doubt it. Would Nick freak out about it though?”

  She licked the water off her lips. “Maybe. But I don’t care. Nick doesn’t have a pool.”

  I nodded.

  With her hair slicked back from her face, the beauty of her features stood out more vibrantly than ever. Her cinnamon sugar eyes glinted in the sunlight and the corners of her perfectly shaped mouth drooped as if something troubled her.

  Guessing she felt bad, despite her assertions, I said, “I’d hate it if my girlfriend was swimming with another guy.”

  Her shoulders broke the surface of the water as she shrugged, disturbing the surface, which had grown glassy around us. “Even if they were just friends?”

  My heart pounding, I reached out and put a finger under her chin, lifting it slightly. “But what if there was something more between them? Something they were keeping a secret? Even from themselves? No, I definitely wouldn’t like it.”

  “But they wouldn’t be doing anything wrong.”

  “That would depend on who she wanted more, huh?”

  Her eyes flashed. “Dang it, Jake, why’d you ask me to come over?”

  Before I could answer, she let go of the ladder and swam away. Internally cursing myself, I swam after her. I caught her arm and she stopped, turning back towards me, a question in her expression.

  “Look,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “I just think you need to question a few things. Like how you feel about me and how I feel about you.”

  “And what do I do then?”

  “That depends on what you want, doesn’t it?”

  Without another word, she swam to the ladder and climbed out. I followed her, dripping water as she toweled off. “Are you leaving?”

  “I think I should. Thanks again. It felt great to cool off.”

  “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t say another word. Just come back and swim.”

  With her towel wrapped around her, she paused. “No. I shouldn’t have come in the first place.” She glanced down at Beth, who was eating chips and watching us like we were on a movie screen. “Ready?”

  Not waiting a second longer, Lauren left, letting the gate clang shut behind her. Beth jumped to her feet and grabbed a bottle of water. “Later, Romeo.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lauren

  When Saturday rolled around and I remembered my invitation to go paint at Irma’s, I didn’t hesitate. I needed a break and there was something restful about her house. It was a comfortable mix of glass doorknobs, heirloom tablecloths, mason jars, and eclectic art. Besides, I was avoiding her grandson, not her.

  So, right after breakfast, I gathered up my watercolors and favorite brushes, then headed over. Fortunately, Jake’s truck wasn’t parked in the driveway. I reminded myself that I was glad about that.

  When I knocked on the door, Irma invited me in with a warm smile and took me straight back to her studio. Two hours later, we sat on her vinyl couch, eating her applesauce bread with the tips of our paint-spattered fingers.

  “Do you think I’ll ever be an artist?” I asked her.

  She snorted. “Why do you care what I think?”

  “Because you are one.”

  She spread butter on another piece of bread and glared at me. “Only you can decide if you’re an artist or not.” She waved a hand at my paint-streaked arms. “You look like one to me, though.”

  “But how do you know when you’ve learned enough to call yourself an artist without feeling like a fraud?”

  She nodded and her eyes looked as if she was staring off at something far away. “I used to wonder about it too. A lot of people tried to tell me I shouldn’t spend so much time on it, that there were more important things to do. One of the many things I loved about Joe was he always knew I needed to be true to this part of myself. All through our years of being poor and raising kids, he made sure I had time to pursue it.”

  “That’s awesome. You loved each other a lot, didn’t you?”

  Irma nodded absently. “The person you marry is everything. It’s the most important decision you’ll ever make. I wish more people understood that.”

  “My parents love each other too. I want what they have someday.”

  After a few minutes of silence while we ate, Irma said, “So, Jake said he wasn’t going to come over while you were here because you’re mad at him.”

  “I’m not mad at him, exactly. It’s just better if we don’t spend so much time together.”

  “Ha!” She clapped her hands together and smiled as if I’d just said something wonderful.

  “What?” I asked, totally confused.

  “If he wasn’t getting under your skin you wouldn’t be trying to avoid him.”

  My cheeks flushed pink. She laughed and stood up, leaving her plate on the coffee table.

  “Well,” she said, “time to get back to work. We can’t waste any more of this beautiful day. Before we know it, those bright green leaves outside are going to be changing colors.”

  “I can’t believe it’s actually seventy degrees outside,” I answered, grabbing onto the new, safer topic.

  We both sat down at our easels and worked quietly together for the next few hours. I put my earbuds in and before I knew it, I was lost to everything but capturing the dappled sunlight on the lawn outside. I didn’t lose focus until movement across the room caught my attention. I looked up to see Jake in the doorway with several take out bags and a drink carrier. Then a glorious aroma wafted over me.

  He held the bags up in the air. “I brought you ladies some lunch.”

  “A peace offering?” Grams asked, smiling though she didn’t stop working.

  Jake glanced at me and smiled ruefully. “Yeah. You could say that.”

  He set one bag down next to Irma. “I know how you forget to eat when you’re working. I got you a patty melt and a chocolate malt.”

  She set her brush down. “Well that’s worth taking a break for.” She picked up the bag and peered inside.

  Jake walked towards me, hesitantly, as if afraid I would fly away like a startled bird. “And for you, I got a BBQ bacon cheeseburger and their house-brewed root beer.”

  My mouth fell open, but I had to close it quickly before drool escaped. I couldn’t give in that easily though. “Well, way to stereotype. You think that because I wear boots I like BBQ sauce and meat?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You can have my fish sandwich if you’d rather.”

  “Give me that burger.”

  He laughed as I stood and took off the apron Irma had loaned me. Jake handed over my food and we sat on the couch to eat, but Irma left, saying “I’m going to eat in the kitchen and read my newspaper.”

  When she was gone, I glanced across at Jake, overly aware how alone we were. Hadn’t I been trying to avoid situations like this?
Glad for something to do, I pulled my burger out and took a bite. It was thick and juicy—basically the best thing I’d eaten for weeks. “Oh, my gosh,” I said. “That is an amazing burger. Where did you get it?”

  “There’s this cool, old-fashioned drive-in not far from the college. I only know about it though because Grams likes it. She’s been going there for decades.”

  “You’ll have to show me where it is, because as soon as I get my first paycheck, I’m going back for another one of these.”

  Jake ate a tater-tot and studied me. “That would require talking to me again.”

  “I’m already talking to you.” I took another bite to hide my blush.

  “Only because I plied you with food.”

  I nodded my head, too busy eating to answer.

  “Okay, so, if I promise to keep my mouth shut about…”

  I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “…things you don’t want to talk about, can we go back to being friends?”

  “It’s not working,” I said, taking a sip of my soda. The taste of caramel and sarsaparilla exploded in my mouth. “Okay, whoa. That’s the best root beer I’ve ever had.”

  Jake laughed and shook his head at me. Then growing serious, he said, “Look, I don’t care what you call us. Just don’t cut me out of your life.”

  I turned and faced him. “You can’t keep flirting with me.”

  He met my eyes. “I haven’t flirted with you since the first time we met.”

  His words and tone sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t say things like that.”

  He shrugged and picked up his sandwich. “I don’t think you know what flirting means.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Look it up some time,” he said, taking a bite.

  “Whatever.” I pressed my lips together and tried to sort out my feelings. “Can you please let me relax and figure things out?”

  He looked hard at me, raising an eyebrow. “So, you’re asking me to wait?”

  “No.” I sighed and grabbed my ponytail, tugging on it nervously. “You’re confusing me.”