Page 65 of Play Book

I nod. “And draw. Sculpt. I like it all, but watercolors are my favorite.”

“Oh.” Now she looks disappointed, and I suddenly understand Canyon’s frustration.

She really is going to be a tough nut to crack.

“You’re welcome to come to the first class,” I tell her. “See if you like it.”

“Are you teaching watercolors?”

The truth is, we hadn’t mentioned which medium we would be using in the ads. The copy said something like, ‘come explore your artistic side with artist, actress, and supermodel Saylor Bonetti! Drawing, painting, and multiple mediums will be used to help you discover your artistic passion.’ I’d laughed when Stevie read it to me, but it had been effective, so now I have to come up with a curriculum, buy supplies, and set up the gallery.

“I’m teaching the basics of everything,” I respond. “A little history of art, and then each week will focus on a different medium so you can figure out which one you like best.” Apparently, I’ve just come up with a plan on the fly.

“You want to take the class?” Canyon asks her. “I can sign you up. Maybe you can meet some other kids.”

She makes a face.

“There’s a kids’ class and an adult class,” I say. “The kids’ class is for ages ten to fifteen, so you won’t have to deal with really little kids. Mostly your age or a little older.”

“They’re all about twelve,” Stevie interjects. “I looked at the list. There’s one girl who’s ten, four are twelve, two are thirteen, and I think there’s an eleven-year-old.”

“Nah. I’m not into it.” Ally suddenly shrugs and picks up a piece of garlic bread, making a show of taking big bites.

As if that somehow makes her look bigger. Stronger.

Poor kid.

“Well, if you change your mind, it starts next Thursday.”

“I won’t. Uncle Canyon has a game.”

I’ve forgotten about hockey.

Obviously, the team isn’t on a set schedule so I would inevitably miss games. I just hate to. And not just because my tickets cost a fortune. I actually love going, and seeing Canyon out there makes it extra fun.

“Well, the class is over by eight, so I’ll probably head over to the arena right after.”

“Yeah, I’m not that into art. I was just curious.” She goes back to eating and there’s a momentary awkward silence at the table until Harper starts talking about an upcoming trip she’s taking.

“I’m sorry,” Canyon whispers in my ear.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Except maybe for what you said in the lounge.” I give him a look.

He stiffens. “You’re talking about…”

“Uh huh. Calling me your girlfriend. Why would you do that?” It’s probably better to get this conversation over with.

“I thought we decided to see what happens?”

“Yeah, like dating a little. Spending some time together. The term girlfriend insinuates a relationship. Serious. Monogamous. And?—”

“Well, we do have a relationship,” he says, frowning. “And we agreed to be monogamous. So who cares what we call it?”

“Because it’s dishonest. It makes it seem like you care about me.”

He does this thing with his eyebrows when he’s frustrated. I’ve seen him do it a dozen times tonight with Ally, but I’ve never seen him do it with me before. It’s a cross between a frown and a scowl, where he’s trying really hard not to scowl but it sort of comes out anyway.

“You think I don’t care about you?” he asks, leaning over so his lips are close to my ear.

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