Page 6 of Wet Paint

She exhaled a long, slow breath and closed her eyes again for a moment. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I know.” I smiled, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze to encourage her. “But you were tired, so it’s okay.”

Her brows furrowed as she sat up, rubbing her face with both hands before brushing the hair from her eyes. The cowboy hat she’d been wearing earlier was on the floor by her feet, the words “BIRTHDAY GIRL” still blinking faintly.

“I wanted to stay up with you,” she stated, her gaze moving to my almost-finished painting. “It’s finished?”

“Not yet. It needs a few more strokes,” I told her, smiling at her again. “Come on, now. I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.” I didn’t give her the chance to fight me on this. I already hated the thought of her walking to the studio all by herself in the dark earlier, and I wasn’t going to let her walk across campus and to the apartment buildings on her own again.

She looked at me for a second, like she was weighing whether or not to argue. But she didn’t. Just nodded quietly and pushed herself off the stool.

“Alright,” she said, her voice still sleepy.

I picked her hat off the ground and handed it to her. She took it with a small smile, then turned to our paintings. “I’ll have to finish it another time. I liked painting with you next to me,” she told me, her eyes meeting mine again.

Her words shouldn’t have sent shivers down my spine or make my heart beat faster. But they did. The smallest smile touched my lips. “I enjoyed it too.”

We were both silent for a while, just looking at each other the way I had caught ourselves looking at each other a few times before. Something was growing between us, and while I knew it was wrong, I had no intention of stopping it.

The lights in the studio were dim, and the air smelled of paint and paint thinner. And her. So damn sweet, so damn calming. I switched off the lights over the workspace, leaving just the hallway glow to guide us out.

We walked in silence down the corridor, our footsteps echoing faintly. Ivy pulled her jacket tighter around herself as we stepped outside. If I had mine with me, I would’ve given it to her. Or maybe I would’ve changed my mind, not giving into the idea of getting to touch her even for the slightest moment.

The sky was starting to shift now. Dark blue bleeding into something lighter near the horizon. It looked like her painting, though it was water, not a sky. Still, it was yet another thing that reminded me of her. It was quiet out, just before the sun would rise.

“You really don’t have to walk me all the way there,” she said as we passed the campus library.

“I know,” I said, pushing my hands into my pants pockets.

Silence came between us, but only for a second. “But I’m glad you are,” she added.

I glanced at her. She wasn’t looking at me. Just walking, slowly, with her arms crossed over her chest like she was holding in something. Like she wanted to say more but couldn’t. I didn’t push.

We reached the street corner near the apartment buildings, where the sidewalk split. My instinct was to stop there, not wanting to intrude her privacy by finding out exactly where she lived. But she kept walking, and I didn’t hesitate, following her up the path.

When we reached her door, she paused in front of it. her keys were already in her hand, but she didn’t unlock it right away.

“Thanks for walking me,” she said, turning toward me.

“Of course.”

“And…for letting me crash in the studio.”

“You can crash there anytime,” I said, and I meant it.

She smiled faintly, then looked down, then up again. Her eyes a little clearer now. “You know,” she said softly, “when I walked over tonight, I didn’t expect anything. I just…didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

My chest tightened a little. There wasn’t anything romantic in her tone, but there was something real. In her gaze, though, there was more than friendly appreciation. Something romantic. Something…needy. Something that tugged at every line I was supposed to be holding.

I nodded, because I wasn’t sure what else to do.

She stood still too, but after a moment of silence, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around my neck. I held my breath as she pressed her body against mine, with one of her hands gently resting at the back of my head.

My first instinct was to push her away. To tell her we couldn’t do this here, not with others possibly seeing us. But there was nobody around, and I gave in to the temptation. Lifting my arms, I wrapped them around her waist, holding her close as we both took a deep breath.

---