Page 53 of Painting Celia

Obviously. Andrew didn’t have to rub in how well he knew her. He’d just seen that for himself.

Andrew turned to look at some nearby sketches, also of Celia. “She’s a good model. I tried to tell you.”

León frowned. He’d been doing it all morning. All week.

Andrew looked directly at León. “You know, last night you said you weren’t into her.”

“I’m not.”

“Then you don’t mind that I spent the night.”

“Nope.”

“You should know—”

León cut him off with a glare. “I’m not interested in her that way. I don’t need to know anything.”

Andrew met his eyes, then shrugged, taking León at his word.

“Good luck,” he said a little pointedly.

León finally smiled a little, sheepish, and touched his friend on the arm. Andrew smiled back. They’d be okay.

As Andrew left, León went back to staring through his canvas.

It was better that she and Andrew were still an item. He was embarrassed to remember his behavior last night. Watching her swim nude without her knowing. Chasing her down to demand she sit for him. Backing her up against the door, touching her without asking. She’d told him more than once that she was cold and wanted to go, but he’d badgered her. He owed her an apology.

Andrew had been lying in her bed while he pestered her.

He’d thought about her all night, the sight of her so vulnerable in the water. He hadn’t tried to stop the memory—he needed it fresh. He’d been up painting at dawn.

It was good that she was with Andrew. It took the whole sexual chemistry thing off the table. It was a common problem between artists and their models. Seeing them nude, obsessing over the details of their bodies, the tension you needed to keep things dynamic…it sometimes devolved into sex. It was a human reaction, after all. No one needed that complication here.

It had been a surprise, though, seeing them come out of the bedroom. An unpleasant one. For a moment, he’d felt betrayed. She was his! Not personally, but her body was his to paint. Obviously, that wasn’t true, but for a moment, he’d forgotten.

It was great that she and Andrew were together. It’d keep him focused on the painting.

He heard a knock and steeled himself. Apology first, then work.

•••

Celia entered, nervous about which León awaited her.

She hadn’t changed her clothes. No way did she want him thinking she’d cleaned up for him. As she walked from the dim interior into the light from the large windows, she could see his face get blacker with each step.

He was back to irritable, apparently.

“I need to apologize to you,” he gritted out.

He what?

“No,” she said. “I said you could come in any time. I’m sorry that Andrew and I surprised you.”

He scowled fiercely. “Not about that. I don’t care about that.”

“Oh.”

“I apologize for watching you last night. I should have left.”

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