Page 5 of Wet Paint

I nodded at his statement about men being assholes, agreeing with him. “It’s fine, though.” I thought about a subject to switch to, wanting to keep the conversation light. “It’s trivia night at Barkley’s Saturday night. Have you ever been?”

We both continued to paint, focusing on our canvases as we kept the conversation going.

“I’ve been a couple of times, yes.”

“You should come tomorrow night. It’ll be fun. The past few Saturdays, they asked a lot about art history. I’m sure they’ll keep the theme going.”

He chuckled softly. “You think?”

“Maybe. Even if not…you should still come. Ruby, Lenny, and I need another teammate. Carly had to pass because she’ll be leaving in the morning to go visit her parents back home.”

“Hm.” He didn’t say anything else as he studied his painting.

I stopped moving my brush across the canvas and watched him, waiting for a response.

“Are professors even allowed to play?”

“Well, technically… Barkley’s doesn’t belong to this school. So, you wouldn’t be our professor. And we wouldn’t be your students.”

“Fair enough.” He squinted his eyes, then looked at me with a smile. “Fine, I’ll come.”

I couldn’t hide my smile, and I was glad he couldn’t hear my heart hammering in my chest. “Perfect. It starts at eight.”

Chapter 3

WILL

The sky I was painting was inspired by her.

I used light blues and grays, and white for soft clouds, and where the sun was going down, I added hints of the lightest orange and purple. The whole painting was finally coming together the way I had imagined it, but it was more beautiful than I had hoped.

And it was all because of Ivy.

I never expected her to come back tonight, but deep down, I hoped she would. Getting involved with students was never something I intended on doing, but Ivy intrigued me. She challenged me. Made me calm down by simply being around.

I noticed it the first time a few weeks ago in class, when she presented her artwork. It was an oil painting of a forest. It was fucking beautiful. And the way she spoke about it, the way she explained why every brushstroke was done the way it was, only made me appreciate her even more. She wasn’t just creative. No, Ivy was a whole damn force. One you wanted to be around, to see where her exceptional mind would take her next.

She often expressed how my class was her favorite, and in the beginning, I knew it was because she appreciated me as anartist. She looked up to me, and she often took inspiration from my art. But, lately, she watched me with different eyes.

It didn’t bother me when it definitely should’ve. I was still her professor, after all. And getting involved with a student would get me fired. Frankly, I thought about quitting a while ago, simply because I was close to reaching my next life goal which was to open my own studio and art gallery. I had too many students who would be upset about that choice. Especially Ivy. But they’d always be welcome.

For now, I was staying.

Ivy had dropped her brush almost an hour ago. She was sitting on the stool, leaning forward with her arms folded on the table. Her head rested on top of them, turned slightly to the side, brown curls falling over her face. She was still, her eyes were closed, and her breathing steady.

I didn’t want to wake her, but it was almost five in the morning, and I wanted her to sleep comfortably.

Setting my palette and brush down, I took the two steps to her and placed a hand on her back, gently caressing her. “Ivy. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Her shoulder twitched slightly under my hand, but she didn’t move right away. For a second, I thought she might already be too far gone in sleep to hear me.

“Ivy,” I said again, softer this time.

She stirred, shifting her head so her cheek pressed more firmly against her arm, and then her hazel eyes blinked open slowly. Groggy, unfocused at first. When she saw me, her expression relaxed. She didn’t lift her head, just looked up at me from where she lay.

“What time is it?” she murmured, her voice low and raspy.

“Almost five,” I said, my hand still resting lightly on her back. “You should sleep somewhere with a mattress.”

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