Page 98 of Levee

“Our bedroom,” I told her.

“Oooh, are we going to make art again?” she asked.

We’d made that a bit of a habit.

The love canvas. Erotic photography. Nude portraits. We had a lot of fun mixing her passion for the arts and our shared passion for each other.

“While I’d be down for that,” I said, especially after two weeks with her parents where having sex under their roof felt wrong as fuck, so we’d needed to sneak off to do it in the freezing car, “that’s not it.”

“Well, where…” she started as she turned into the bedroom.

I didn’t need to tell her where it was.

Because the thing took up a whole damn wall.

While we’d been away, I’d had two crews in. One to redo the primary bathroom because it was horribly dated. So I’d gotten us a bigger shower niche, a soaking tub for two, a separate water closet for the toilet, and a double vanity. The other, I’d had in to replace the wall between the bathroom and the bedroom with a massive custom-built fish tank. One big enough to expand her collection.

“Levee!” she cried, voice thick. Sure enough, when she turned, her eyes were watery. “It’s so beautiful. Oh, they look so happy!” she said, walking closer to admire her fish as they swam around, their fancy tails swishing.

When we’d moved in, there hadn’t been a good spot for the fish tank, since goldfish needed giant tanks and the living and dining rooms had awkward layouts. We’d ended up sticking the tank in one of the spare rooms. Which I knew Jade didn’t like. First, because she liked looking at them. Second, because she was already starting to paint pretty, childlike murals on the walls in those rooms.

“The tank guys said there are enough gallons now for at least six or seven more goldfish, if you want.”

“Oh, I want,” she said, reaching back to grab me, pulling me in behind her.

My arms went around her and she melted into me as we both stood there admiring the tank.

It was a good business move for her, too, to get more fish. Her goldfish prints had been selling like wildfire lately, thanks to some viral social media videos.

While she didn’t need the money now—thanks to several pricey commissions for Teddy, Zayn, and their associates—it was important to her that her art did well, that it found the people who would appreciate it.

Plus, I loved the damn fish too.

And I was kind of excited to figure out what she might name the new ones.

“I love you,” she said, turning her head so I could lean down and kiss her.

“I love you too,” I said.

And, fuck, I did.

More than I knew I was capable of.

“I have a little surprise for you too,” she said, untangling herself from my arms. “I’ve also been keeping a secret for two weeks. Well, three, I guess, now,” she said, taking my hand, and pulling me with her toward her studio that was, basically, a sun soaked closet. It was something else I wanted to fix one day. But we had time.

“In here?” I asked, looking around.

It was the usual kind of organized mess as it always was. Paints, charcoals, pastels, canvases, easels, and sketches pinned randomly to the walls.

“Yes,” she said. “I tucked it here before we left,” she told me, going to the wall with the most finished canvases leaning against it, fishing toward the back, and taking out a canvas, careful to keep the painted side turned to her. “Ready?” she asked.

“Definitely.”

She flipped the canvas, holding it against her front.

And there the two of us were.

Well, no.

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