Page 42 of Taylor

“You first.”

“I finished,” she said, motioning to the sketch pad. “Do you want to see?”

His gaze turned gleeful, and he nodded.

She flipped around the sketch pad to reveal what she had been working on.

19

Taylor

His jaw dropped as he took in her work. There, colorful as a Trapper Keeper from fourth grade, was a drawing of him. But it wasn’t just him. It was undeniably him, but he was dressed as a knight from the game he’d been playing. Around him were scenes from the video game. From orcs he’d been fighting to the skeletons he’d fought yesterday, all of it was captured in this sketch. But not only that—it was full of color. It was cheerful but also slightly trippy. It was bursting with so much his eyes didn’t even know where to look.

“Is that me?”

He clearly knew it was.

“Yeah... Do you like it?” she asked quietly.

Finally, he pulled his eyes from the sketch and focused on her. He did not like the trepidation he found in eyes one bit. All his words were trapped inside, though, so he just nodded and reached for the sketchbook to inspect it.

“This is amazing...” He just stared at the picture. The more he examined it, the more detail he saw. “I’m serious, Alice. I love it.”

A grin crept across her face, and it lit something deep inside of him. He would do just about anything to keep that look. Since that morning, he had been thinking he wanted to continue this when they were back in Glendale, but he was even more sure of that. Thinking he would never have his fill of Alice Wagner, he would just find a way of dealing with the fact he wanted to date his coach’s daughter.

“Can I keep it?”

“Of course. I made it for you.”

“Wow, you’re really talented. I mean, I figured you were after our chat at the gala, but this is really something,” he said, still taking in the amazing sketch. “Have you ever thought about doing commissions? There is a market for this kind of stuff?”

“What? There’s no market for my sketches.”

He looked at her in utter confusion. “Are you kidding me? You clearly need to travel more in nerdier circles. There is always a desire for fan art... and this type of self-insert fan art... This is really amazing, Alice.”

She seemed uncomfortable. Was it possible she didn’t know how incredible she was? Because if she didn’t, that was a fucking shame.

Setting the sketchbook on the coffee table in front of him, he turned fully to her and placed his hands on her knees. “I need you to understand how good this is.” He waited for her to look him in the eye. “I’m serious, Alice. You’re talented. I know you’re trying to figure out your next step, but this”—he pointed to the sketch—“is something really special. You know that right.”

She broke eye contact, and the furrow on her brow did not escape his notice.

“You really have no idea how amazing you are, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” she whispered.

He gently cupped her chin, turning her to face him, because he needed her to believe this. When she finally looked at him, the vulnerability of her gaze made his heart skip a beat.

“Alice, you are smart, creative, and so beautiful.”

Then she did something that incensed him. She fucking rolled her eyes. Like what he had just said was laughable and not the simple truth.

“Hey,” he said, pausing until her eyes met his again, “I’m being so fucking for real right now.”

She was still just looking at him, like she was trying to decide if she should trust him.

“Clearly, you’re an amazing artist,” he said, motioning to the notebook. “And I say you’re beautiful because I have eyes.”

A tear tracked down her face.

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