Page 94 of Sack

His frown deepened. “Tangible or not, you realize what you do is art, right?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. To a point.”

He shook his head. “Not to a point, it is. Just another medium. You’re still expressing yourself artistically, so it’s art.”

“I guess I never thought of it like that.”

“Well, start thinking like that. You have to believe you’re an artist or you’ve failed this class before even starting.”

He was right and she spent the whole walk home thinking about that. Just because she used images and words to convey her subject didn’t mean she wasn’t an artist. She still had to have an eye for lines, shapes, color, and typography. And if she didn’t have an artist’s mindset, her teacher was right—she’d fail.

Emerson hightailed it around the bar as soon as Ivy walked through the door. “I missed you so much yesterday.” She pulled Ivy into a tight hug before stepping back but still keeping hold of her shoulders. “No one else here can appreciate a nice ass in tight pants the way you can. I swear, all my comments fell on deaf ears.”

As they were usually the only females at the bar who watched the game, she could believe that.

A frown pulled at Emerson’s lips. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? You’re not looking so great.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and she blinked quickly to keep them from falling. She’d known Emerson would be her undoing.

Emerson’s frown deepened. “Not sick. Something else. Something worse. What happened?”

Sucking back her emotions, Ivy took a fortifying breath. “I called things off with Colt.”

“Oh shit. Okay, don’t move.” She whipped off her apron and tossed it behind the bar. “Matt!” she yelled. “I’m leaving and I probably won’t be back. Can you close up?”

Matt looked up from filling a beer. “Sure, no problem. What should I tell lover boy if he shows up?”

Lover Boy? She was sooo going to call Oz that from now on.

“Tell him I’m on best-friend duty.”

Flashing his eyes to Ivy and looking bewildered, he said, “Huh?”

Emerson waved a hand. “Never mind. I’ll text him and let him know where I’m at.”

“And just where will we be?” Ivy asked as Emerson looped her arm with hers and steered them out the door.

“My house. We need a girls’ nightinSTAT. Facials, nails, hair, and margaritas all to the backdrop of a Marvel marathon. We’re gonna binge on tequila and Chrises.”

Ivy couldn’t help but smile at her friend. Yes, that’s exactly what she needed.

Chapter Twenty-one

Colt

“So, Chet, do you think today’s win will finally knock the giant chip off P. Colton’s shoulder?”announcer number one asked.

“Well, Steve,”the second announcer replied, “it should, but I hope for the Phantoms’ sake it doesn’t. It’s his drive and dedication that makes him one of the best players in the league. I’ll even be so bold as to make a prediction. With the way he’s been playing this season, I bet money he’ll take his team to the Super Bowl this year.”

Colt clicked off the TV, determination filling his veins. Damn straight, he would. He tossed the remote onto the coffee table and it skidded into his phone. Colt picked it up and checked for missed calls.

His new habit.

Nothing from Ivy.

She didn’t want him to text or call, said it was too painful, and he’d been forcing himself to respect her wishes. The last thing he wanted was to cause Ivy any more hurt. But he’d misjudged how hard it would be not talking with her. He missed their nightly phone calls. Missed her smoky-gray eyes. Missed her smile.

Hell, he missedher.

---