Page 58 of Painting Celia

The knocking started again after a while. His muffled voice was audible even through the glass and the music.

“Celia, let’s talk, please.”

Absolutely not.

He kept knocking. “I’ll just listen, I won’t talk.”

Step in the right direction, but no.

“You’re right about everything.”

Definitely getting better.

“I’m going to sit here all night, Celia!”

Good.

If she went out, it’d be a win for him. She waited silently, superior. Her outburst earlier embarrassed her, but shutting people out? Oh, she could do that.

Unbidden, she relived the same thing running through her head all day. León, glaring as she posed this morning, ogling her like she couldn’t tell he was doing it. Then, taking it out on her, being grouchy and high-handed and inconsiderate! It was so unfair. So rude. So arrogant.

A shiver ran through her as she pictured him scowling down at her.

Okay, it was sort of hot. Maybe she’d wanted him to fall on her, giving in, lunging onto her with the passion he so clearly held back. But still!

Four more songs played before she looked again. Still there, sitting in the full dark, only the back of his bowed head visible. It was more siege than apology. What did you call a person under siege? A hostage? She looked it up on her phone, bored with her book, but couldn’t find the right word.

A small faint tapping sound started repeating in the living room, like he was rocking gently against the slider. He wasn’t actually trying to open the door, right? When the sound stopped, she peeked again.

What was….

That…that brat had painted on her glass doors! Big white letters that he must have done backward so she could read them.

I WAS WRONG

I’LL DO BETTER

ONE MORE CHANCE

PLEASE

That paint had better come off!

She tore open the door to find him standing there with paint and brush still in hand. He’d dripped some on her patio too! His face was a mix of expectation and wariness and pleasure and not nearly enough contrition.

The cocky bastard!

“You are proving me right,” she spat. “You’re still trying to control the conversation! I say I’m done, and you camp out here for a few hours?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she wasn’t finished. “No means no! I shouldn’t have to tell you that!”

She could literally see the wheels turning as he sought a justification but failed.

His posture caved, his eyes stricken. He looked so ashamed that she had to suppress an urge to relent. After a taut moment, he simply nodded and left to go to the pool house.

Celia spun to inspect the paint. Who’d asked for big gestures? Had she been unclear that she didn’t want to talk?

He didn’t have to look so beaten just now! Unless…was she blowing things out of proportion?

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