her...
Hell. I couldn’t go there or I’d package her in bubble wrap and put her in a closet.
When it came to certain feelings, she would shut herself down, putting on that cool, collected face. Hiding. I shook off my mood, knowing she didn’t need a fight. No matter how much I would love to lay into her just now.
“Let’s get dinner tonight.” I glanced at her and back to the road, not liking the distance in her eyes. Her depression was always hovering outside the lines of reality, scaring the ever-living shit out of me.
“Can’t. I have a date.”
“A what? With who?” Matt wasn’t coming into Charlotte until tomorrow and, despite their “open” relationship, she hadn’t dated anyone else.
“With a blank canvas.” She looked at me, her smile a punch to the gut.
“Since when is painting a date?”
“Since today. I just thought of a scene. I’ll give it to you when I’m done.”
“It’s not a naked portrait, is it?” Please Christ, say yes .
She laughed and, damn, the musical lilt sounded so good. “Nope.”
I nudged her shoulder. “Let’s get dinner anyway. You can work after. You need to get out.”
She chewed on her lip like I’d wanted to do more for than a decade. “Okay, but I’m out now.”
She would think that. “Teaching a class and going to the hospital isn’t going out. I’m taking you to Ed’s for pizza. You can paint later.” Then again, staying in had its advantages. “Why isn’t Matt here taking you on a date? It’s Saturday. There’s no meetings tomorrow, even in his world.”
Her voice was quiet. Too quiet. “Can we not fight about Matt, please?”
Heaven forbid. “Fine. But what does Matt think about you cheating on him with a paintbrush and your best friend?”
Exasperated, she shrugged. “He won’t care.”
Christ. She wasn’t that clueless. Neither was Matt. “Yes, he will.”
Glancing at me briefly, she returned her gaze to the road. She had deflection down to a science. “What makes you think he’ll care?”
Because he’s the only man on the planet who’s in love with you even half as much as I am .
“Call it a gut feeling.”
“Well, he’s coming to visit tomorrow. I’ll be sure to tell him I cheated on him with you, a paintbrush, and some pizza. He’ll be devastated.”
Great. Why did I even bother? And why couldn’t Matt stay in Greensboro where he wasn’t a threat to my unbalanced obsession? “What is he coming in for?”
“Can’t he drive down just to see me?” When I raised my eyebrows, because Matt had rarely done just that, she sighed. “He said he wanted to share some good news and talk .”
It was almost laughable how she switched from broken-hearted to angry to nervous in the course of ten minutes. “Don’t freak out, Summer. Talking isn’t always a bad thing.” But one could hope. I could hope until my balls turned blue that Matt would break things off with her.
Evergreens whizzed by in a blur along the rolling Carolina countryside as silence stretched between us. Summer had a tree house in her backyard when we were kids. She had wanted it in an evergreen because she thought fairies lived in them, not the tall oak it wound up in. I smiled. Her dad had been so unwilling to build the thing, but finally gave in to Summer’s whining. Tom had taught me so much about carpentry, starting with Summer’s tree house.
I looked back at her, a smile still playing at my lips. Her caramel hair flew around her face due to the open windows, threatening to come free from the rubber band as she played with the radio dials. I just might have a heart attack if she ever let me use the air conditioner.
My mind drifted back to Matt. He wanted to have a talk with her. That could only mean one of two things: he was going to step up the relationship or he was ending it. I knew Matt sure as hell wasn’t breaking up with her.
I wondered if that was what she truly wanted. Matt. Summer had rarely ever gotten what she’d wanted
Hell. I couldn’t go there or I’d package her in bubble wrap and put her in a closet.
When it came to certain feelings, she would shut herself down, putting on that cool, collected face. Hiding. I shook off my mood, knowing she didn’t need a fight. No matter how much I would love to lay into her just now.
“Let’s get dinner tonight.” I glanced at her and back to the road, not liking the distance in her eyes. Her depression was always hovering outside the lines of reality, scaring the ever-living shit out of me.
“Can’t. I have a date.”
“A what? With who?” Matt wasn’t coming into Charlotte until tomorrow and, despite their “open” relationship, she hadn’t dated anyone else.
“With a blank canvas.” She looked at me, her smile a punch to the gut.
“Since when is painting a date?”
“Since today. I just thought of a scene. I’ll give it to you when I’m done.”
“It’s not a naked portrait, is it?” Please Christ, say yes .
She laughed and, damn, the musical lilt sounded so good. “Nope.”
I nudged her shoulder. “Let’s get dinner anyway. You can work after. You need to get out.”
She chewed on her lip like I’d wanted to do more for than a decade. “Okay, but I’m out now.”
She would think that. “Teaching a class and going to the hospital isn’t going out. I’m taking you to Ed’s for pizza. You can paint later.” Then again, staying in had its advantages. “Why isn’t Matt here taking you on a date? It’s Saturday. There’s no meetings tomorrow, even in his world.”
Her voice was quiet. Too quiet. “Can we not fight about Matt, please?”
Heaven forbid. “Fine. But what does Matt think about you cheating on him with a paintbrush and your best friend?”
Exasperated, she shrugged. “He won’t care.”
Christ. She wasn’t that clueless. Neither was Matt. “Yes, he will.”
Glancing at me briefly, she returned her gaze to the road. She had deflection down to a science. “What makes you think he’ll care?”
Because he’s the only man on the planet who’s in love with you even half as much as I am .
“Call it a gut feeling.”
“Well, he’s coming to visit tomorrow. I’ll be sure to tell him I cheated on him with you, a paintbrush, and some pizza. He’ll be devastated.”
Great. Why did I even bother? And why couldn’t Matt stay in Greensboro where he wasn’t a threat to my unbalanced obsession? “What is he coming in for?”
“Can’t he drive down just to see me?” When I raised my eyebrows, because Matt had rarely done just that, she sighed. “He said he wanted to share some good news and talk .”
It was almost laughable how she switched from broken-hearted to angry to nervous in the course of ten minutes. “Don’t freak out, Summer. Talking isn’t always a bad thing.” But one could hope. I could hope until my balls turned blue that Matt would break things off with her.
Evergreens whizzed by in a blur along the rolling Carolina countryside as silence stretched between us. Summer had a tree house in her backyard when we were kids. She had wanted it in an evergreen because she thought fairies lived in them, not the tall oak it wound up in. I smiled. Her dad had been so unwilling to build the thing, but finally gave in to Summer’s whining. Tom had taught me so much about carpentry, starting with Summer’s tree house.
I looked back at her, a smile still playing at my lips. Her caramel hair flew around her face due to the open windows, threatening to come free from the rubber band as she played with the radio dials. I just might have a heart attack if she ever let me use the air conditioner.
My mind drifted back to Matt. He wanted to have a talk with her. That could only mean one of two things: he was going to step up the relationship or he was ending it. I knew Matt sure as hell wasn’t breaking up with her.
I wondered if that was what she truly wanted. Matt. Summer had rarely ever gotten what she’d wanted
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