Page 20 of Love Finds Home

“What can I do you for, baby cakes?”

“I found a place. It’s perfect.”

I look around the still mostly empty room. I brought a stack of sketchpads and my pencils in a few nights ago and ended up staying until well past midnight. I filled over half of a brand-new book. It was the most creative I’ve been, but the thought of what I sketched that night makes me want to gag. No matter how I tried to draw something else,hewas stuck in my head. Pages upon pages of brown eyes begging for something, but I don’t know what. A man in shadow, trying to find his way to the light. Those same brown eyes pleading from the face of a man drowning, trying to find his way back to the surface. There’s pain in that man, I know it. But I can’t fix it. That’s not my job, is it? Doesn’t stop my fingers from twitching, itching to reach for a pencil and draw.

Luckily, Jorge is here to distract me.

“I don’t want to hear about your perfect little place in your new perfect little town with all the perfect men. Ugh, you straights are so boring.”

“What the fuck ever, boo-boo. I need your help. Wanna come see the hot, straight men?”

“Why dangle what I can’t have in front of me?”

“Dangle.” I can’t help but laugh. “You are full of it today. You coming or not?”

“Of course I am! What do you need?”

I tell Jorge what I need, knowing he’s probably already started packing everything up in the studio van. This is one of the reasons I love him. We can screw around and have fun, but when it comes down to it, he’s as invested in the studio as I am. He loves the work, and takes it seriously, but still knows how to have fun.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” he starts when the packing list is complete. “What do you know about rose petals?”

That makes me take notice. “What about them?” I ask hesitantly.

“I found some. On the ground outside your studio door.”

“Fuck,” I whisper, louder than I wanted to.

“Talk, Elenore. Now.”

“You know I hate it when you full name me,” I whine, trying to buy time.

“Tough shit. I’ll Elenore you until I’m blue in the face if I need to. Spill it, sister.”

“It’s Stefon. Or, at least I think it’s Stefon,” I admit to Jorge.

“Oookkaayyy,” he draws out the word. “Why do you think it’s that fine ass man?”

“Just because he’s fine doesn’t mean he was meant for me, J.”

“It also doesn’t mean you can keep why you think he’s a creepy rose petal dropper a secret.”

Sighing, I put the phone down on the counter with him on speaker and rub my temples. I hate talking about this shit. I just want to move on.

“He got too clingy and shit and I cut him loose, but he didn’t really go away?”

“You asking me or telling me?”

“Fine. I saw him outside my window a few times after I ended it with him and then he was watching me at the studio. It creeped me out, okay?”

“So you ran away to hide in your small town with all the hot straights and now you want me to do the heavy lifting and bring all your shit to you so you can stay hidden? That about the gist?”

“Yes. That’s it. Can we drop it now?”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“What was I supposed to say? Hey, you know that hot guy who brings us a lot of business that you talked me into going on a date with? Yeah, he’s a super creep and we don’t want his business anymore?”

“That’s exactly what you were supposed to say, Elle! You aren’t supposed to run away from your life, from your friends!”

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