Page 25 of Bold

Noah

Everyone hates Mondays. It’s a day of the week that totally gets a bad rap.

As for me, I have no hatred toward them, especially this particular Monday. How could I be mad when I got to spend time with Brazen and then go to an art class after work?

I’m tidying up my desk before I leave for the day when Brazen rises from his office chair. My eyes follow as his long legs bring him closer to me.

“What are your plans tonight?” he asks while leaning into me.

He was quiet all day. I didn’t mind. We had work to do, and my desk gave me a clear view of his handsome face. I was happy to sit and watch him work.

“I have a class up at the center in about a half hour,” I tell him.

“Are you walking there?”

“I am.” It’s not too far. Plus, I don’t have a car.

“I’ll walk you,” he insists.

What I want to say is, Yes, I’d like that. Instead, I say, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He tucks a wayward hair behind my ear.

“Okay then.” My smile grows so big that my jaw hurts.

I can feel it—the shift, the chemistry between us that is burning a bit brighter right now. It’s in the way he’s looking at me. Some of the cloudy indecision has lifted from his eyes, making the vibrant color all the more bright.

We grab our things, and Brazen locks up behind us when we leave. Side by side, we walk down the sidewalk, away from the office and toward the center. Those damn butterflies spring to life in my stomach. But Brazen? He seems calm and collected. His tall frame towers over my petite build, and the dark sunglasses he pulls down hides his eyes from me.

“So, tell me about this art stuff,” Brazen casually says as we walk.

“It’s an outlet for me. In the past, I’ve only really played with pencils, markers, and crayons, but I’d like to explore more. I want to paint, sculpt, and do everything else I can get into. That’s what I’m doing at the center.”

“You any good?” There is a teasing playfulness to his words.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” I counter, still positive our time together is over for the day.

Now in front of the center, Brazen holds the door open for me. I step through the threshold, and a pang of disappointment runs through me now that our walk is over. It’s quickly snuffed out when he follows me inside.

“What are you doing?” I ask him.

“Finding out about your talent for myself,” he says dryly while pulling his sunglasses from his face.

“You’re going to crash my class?” I never thought he’d come to it, and I was being flirtatious when I mentioned it. But, if he’s serious, I’m not going to talk him out of it.

“I am. Just show me where to sign up.” With his hand, he mimics signing on the dotted line.

He has a surprise in store for him; that’s for sure. Once we get him set up, I take him back into the classroom. Most of the seats are already filled, but Brazen and I take the last two positioned next to each other. I open my bag, get out my supplies, and share with him because he is ill-prepared for our class.

“Do we just draw whatever we feel like?” he asks, testing the drawing tool.

“Not exactly.” I evade. “Can you draw?”

“Do blueprints count?” He shrugs. “No one would spend money on anything I created, but I can do better than stick figures and one-dimensional landscapes.”

It’s then that our instructor walks out, followed by a beautiful woman.

Brazen doesn’t give her a second glance and focuses all of his attention my way.

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