Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Levi
The last time I’d seen Avery Whynot, she was a pimpled teenager with stars in her eyes, pigtails, and a nasty sunburn.
When she called out my name, I’d thought dammit, someone recognized me, or someone had followed me all the way out here to this dusty shithole—but no.
Even worse.
Avery-fucking-Whynot had turned into a gorgeous woman with a tangle of silky brown waves, freckles dusting her smooth skin, and big brown eyes. The overalls she wore were a soft baby blue denim with paint splatters on them, her hips filling them out in a way that got my blood pumping.
Certainly not the thoughts I should have had about my best friend’s little sister.
The good news was that I’d clearly annoyed her. That was good. It had to be good, because the other option was that she liked me, and I liked her—and again, after the hot flash of sexual thoughts that launched to the front of my mind upon seeing her, I couldn’t take that risk.
The little old lady guiding me through the gallery had the grip of a goddamn defenseman. All my words failed me as I was dragged to the classroom inside.
Last time I was here at Whynot Paint, it looked a lot different—not nearly as lively or organized as it was now. In fact, I wasn’t sure anyone ever ran art classes out of this place before. If I remembered right, Mr. Whynot used it as his studio and sold his work, and that was about it.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, yanking my forearm away from the little old lady. “Don’t touch me.”
She scoffed. “Well then. Not very nice, are you?”
I bit my tongue. No, I wasn’t very nice when strangers randomly grabbed me, little old lady or not.
I’d been in too many situations where someone would touch me inappropriately or without my consent simply because of my job, which was why I valued my reputation as a total dick. It was an easy mask to pull on.
I ignored her glower and shuffled to the empty table at the very back of the classroom. Taking an art class was the last thing I imagined myself doing this morning, but I'd needed a break from the PT exercises that’d been sent over to me.
Right before my great escape from the best career I’d probably ever have, I’d gone to the doctor a lot. Countless appointments, countless recommendations, and ultimately a prescription—give your body a break.
I hated that. For years, I’d been the guy who was up every morning working out for hours. My diet was regimented. My life was a bunch of bottles of supplements, numbers on charts, and pushing myself to be perfect.
Now, I was broken in more ways than one.
At least I’d forced myself to venture out of the house I’d rented a couple blocks over. As much as I didn’t want to interact with people right now, I had to admit it felt good to be out.
The man that’d interrupted us earlier followed Avery into the classroom.
Mateo. I tried to keep my eyes off him, but it was impossible to.
The charm that dripped from his body made my head spin as he sat down next to me.
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he watched Avery with a certain attentiveness that made me wonder . . .
Were those two together? He’d certainly been pretty fucking friendly with her. Once again, my thoughts went where they shouldn’t. The idea of those two together rolling around in bed was so unbelievably inappropriate, and yet I could not get it out of my perverted mind.
I needed to think of quite literally anything else.
I’d been in Texas for a week now. In Whynot for three days. Reluctantly, I’d turned my phone back on and the amount of notifications had only increased. My abrupt announcement had tipped everything upside down, and I had over a thousand unread text messages.
I didn’t know that many people. At least, I didn’t think I did. My phone said otherwise, though.
My social media accounts were flooded. My voicemails were maxed out. Every time I saw the little red number reminding me of how many unread messages there were, panic bloomed in my chest, and something in me felt dangerously close to breaking. Like my body, my life was made of glass right now.
It was just a break. Right? Whatever was wrong with me would pass. I’d had similar things occur over the years, although nothing at this level. But it made no fucking sense.
Pressure never got to me. Ever. So why now?
All I knew was I was only reading messages from my agent. Robin was in full-on crisis mode, but had given me six weeks to get my mind straightened out.
Six weeks.
Then she said we’d talk.
No one knew where I was aside from her, and it’d stay that way until I was ready to come out of hiding in five weeks.
Avery cleared her throat as she took her place at the front of the room. “Good morning, everyone. We’re doing something new today. And lucky for us, we have the best firefighter in town to keep watch.”
All heads swiveled to Mateo, who pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, completely at ease. My brain short-circuited as I studied him, trying to keep my attention off his mustache.
Damn, that was a fine mustache.
I liked kissing men with mustaches.
Get the fuck out of your horny head, Rayburn.
I tore my attention from him and refocused on Avery, as if that were any better.
Whatever I’d said to piss her off earlier was clearly far from her mind as she gathered supplies, her dimples flashing as she spoke.
I still wondered why her face was blue, but honestly?
It kind of suited her. And the fact that no one seemed to really be fazed by it said something about her.
Something that piqued my interest.
“Today, we’re trying out fumage.”
“I don’t smoke pot,” one of the older women called from the front.
Avery swallowed a laugh. “Well, good thing we’re not smoking pot, Grace.”
“Well, damn, I don’t want it then,” one of the other women mumbled.
“Okay, okay. Please remember you’re at a community art class.
We don’t smoke pot here. Fumage is an art form that involves using smoke to create art.
We’ll light our candles, and using the tip of the flame, you’ll hold the paper and create abstract marks with it. You’d be surprised what you can make.”
She dropped all the supplies in front of each of us before soaring back to the front. There was a canvas on an easel with fabric draped over it, and she tugged it away dramatically, revealing the piece underneath.
Everyone gasped and made approving sounds. I leaned forward, far more interested than I expected.
The art was really good. It was a black and white landscape with two longhorns in tall grass. Wisps of gray and black danced around them, abstract but calculated. The longhorns were done in such detail that I couldn’t see how she did that with smoke.
Then again, I was no artist. Not like that, anyway. Photography was my hobby, but painting? It was impossible. The last time I’d attempted an art project of sorts was when I’d done wax play with an ex-lover.
“Did you do that, Avery?” an elderly man asked.
Her expression lit up. Suddenly, I didn’t care about anyone else in the room.
“I did,” she said. “This piece is for the festival auction in a couple months. However much it goes for will be donated to our library and keeping school lunches free.”
Mateo leaned forward, his gaze locked on Avery with the same interest I felt. Stop looking at him, dumbass.
This was exactly why I’d gotten in trouble in the first place.
I couldn’t keep my expression in check most of the time, so I often ended up putting on a grumpy face to keep people from bothering me.
My agent called it RLF, or resting Levi face.
She’d even proposed we put that on stickers, but I turned that down fast.
God, I just knew Robin was burning a hole in my phone.
“So, let’s give it a try. Y’all each got a candle and a piece of paper. Now, mind you, we are putting paper to flame, so it may catch fire. But if it does, I’ll have buckets of water placed around the room.”
Mateo cleared his throat. “Avery, are you sure about this?”
Avery flashed him a sassy smile. “I’m a professional, Mateo, so don’t you worry your pretty head about it. Trust the process.”
Mateo smirked. “I’m on the clock anyway, Blue.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but I caught the hint of excitement that went beyond friendly. I raised a brow, invested in whatever this was.
See, maybe I had missed this small town. It was easy to sink back into speculating about two people I didn’t know. Even more fun to think about what it’d be like to be with the two of them.
Now I knew I’d really lost my fucking mind. Maybe I needed to go back home and take a cold shower. Ice this damn lust out of my veins.
“Are you two dating?” I whispered to Mateo.
His expression flashed with surprise, and then he immediately shook his head. Shit, I should have kept my mouth shut.
“No. She’s Austin’s sister. She’s off-limits.” His tone was calm and serious, as if he’d rehearsed those words more than a few times.
“Right.”
I distinctly recalled the bastard putting the fear of god into anyone who looked at her when we were kids. But that was before she was a full adult who could make her own decisions.
It had made sense then, but now . . .
The idea of him trying to control her love life didn’t sit right with me. But, what the hell was I even thinking? I didn’t know her. She certainly didn’t like me. None of this was my business.
I looked away from Mateo, ignoring the heat that crawled up my spine.
It’d been a long time since I’d felt a stirring in my chest like this.
Maybe it was the fresh air or the fact that no one was stalking my every move here, but it felt nice to be interested in someone and not wonder if they had an ulterior motive.
Avery held up a lighter. “I’m going to come around and light all the candles. Don’t do anything until I instruct you. Got it?”