Chapter 28
AGE SEVENTEEN
“Tell me again about this assignment. Why do you need my help?” Avery is lying on her stomach on my bed, her feet kicked up behind her, with no idea how beautiful she looks right now.
Her long black hair falls over her shoulders, a little wavy after her shower.
The cute little dimple I love so much pops as she flips through a magazine.
If I didn’t have to draw this home design for my computer-aided design class, I’d totally be drawing her right now.
I tap my pencil on my drawing pad and look over the project outline again. I skim the directions and read aloud the important ones to help Avery understand what I’m supposed to be doing.
“Before we move to the computer-design aspect of this project, I want you to sketch your design on paper. Blah, blah, blah. Technology is the future, but there is something you can’t quite achieve with a computer.
Blah, blah. Sometimes, putting pencil to paper unlocks creativity you may be missing with computer design. ”
Avery drops her magazine on the bed and looks up at me. “Why are you saying blah, blah, blah? I think he’s right. I mean, I prefer an old-school calendar to the one on my phone.”
I laugh and toss my pencil gently, aiming for the spot next to her. “That is totally not the same thing and you know it.”
She sits up and swings her legs so they’re dangling off the side of my bed.
“Fine. I still think he’s onto something, though. Now, tell me why you need my help.”
I turn in my chair and push myself over to her. I open my legs so hers are nestled right in between mine, and place my hands on top of her thighs.
“You, my love, are my muse.”
Avery tilts her head but smiles. “That makes no sense. Aren’t you designing a home or something?”
With her head tilted, some of her hair falls in her face. I reach out and push it behind her ear, stroking her cheek with my thumb as I do.
“Yes. But since I don’t care what it looks like, I want to know about your dream home. That’s the house I want to design for this project.”
Avery reaches out and grabs my face with both her hands. She leans forward and plants a loud, smacking kiss on my lips. When she pulls back, she’s wearing the biggest smile on her face.
“Well, why didn’t you say so! I know exactly what I want in my dream house. Grab your pencil, Superstar. You’re going to need to take notes.”
We’ve been at this for almost two hours now, and I’m starting to realize my girlfriend is very particular when it comes to home decor.
“No, no, no. That couch is way too small. It needs to seat at least seven for all the friends we’re going to have over.”
That right there is why I don’t care how often she’s changed her mind. Every time she describes something she wants, it’s we. She’s including me in her thought process. So I’ll sit here for five hours if I have to if it means I get to design the dream home she envisions for our future.
“And the kitchen island needs to be bigger. Think family dinners and baking Christmas cookies together with all of our teammates. Oh! With a KitchenAid mixer and double oven!”
I laugh as I erase the small kitchen island I had drawn and make the changes to appease her. Even though decor wasn’t necessary for this project, I can’t help but add in the little details she seems to be so excited about.
Drawing a mixer on the counter, I also include a cookie jar and coffee maker, even though neither of us drink coffee. I draw the giant palm plant she wants potted near the huge window and floor to ceiling bookshelves.
She’s moved from the bed to my lap now. And although drawing is ten times harder with her here, there’s no way in hell I’m asking her to move.
“Yes, oh my gosh! That looks so good. We should have an old-school record player in that room, too. Music sounds so much better on vinyl.”
This comment causes me to drop my pencil and lean back in my chair. “How the hell do you know music sounds better on vinyl? I’ve never seen a record in your room.”
She loops her arm around her neck and shakes her head at me. “Oh, Connor. You think I’d bring my records to school? They are far too valuable to risk someone mishandling them. They’re safe at home with my parents.”
I’ve never seen her this giddy outside of the hockey rink before.
Her happiness and excitement keeps me focused for the next hour as I finish the design.
At some point over the last sixty minutes, Avery moves to the floor to work on her own homework.
When I finish adding the small details she wanted that were totally unnecessary, I turn dramatically in my chair.
“Ta-da! What do we think? Is it everything you ever imagined?”
She sits up from where she’s sitting and reaches for the paper. “Gimme, gimme!”
Laughing, I hand it over and join her on the floor.
Leaning over, I rest my hand behind her and watch as she takes in the drawing.
She’s pointing, smiling, and gasping at things, and I’m fighting every instinct to grab her and pin her onto the floor.
The way I want to make love to this girl is maddening.
She squeals one more time then turns to look at me over her shoulder.
“It’s perfect, Connor!” Avery leans forward and kisses me. Before she can pull away, I grab the back of her head to deepen the kiss. After a couple minutes, we finally break apart and she is still wearing that breathtaking smile.
“Do you really think we could have this one day?” She turns her attention back to the drawing in her hand, and I rest my chin on her shoulder.
“If you want it, it’s yours, Aves.”