Chapter 26
Indy
As I brushed a light layer of mascara on my lashes, a realization hit me like a thunderbolt.
I’d never had a date before.
Sure, I’d dated a guy in high school, but that wasn’t the same. Mutual hangouts weren’t an official date. And we’d broken up before prom since I wasn’t around much due to my gran’s doctor appointments and the job I had to get to help with the bills.
Fuck you very much, Anthony Jenkins.
So as I paced the living room of my new apartment, I tried to calm my nerves.
Because I shouldn’t be nervous.
I’d lived with Dylan.
I knew what he looked like when he first woke up.
I’d watched him scratch every part of him.
I’d felt him inside me.
I had absolutely no reason to be nervous.
But I still jumped like an anxious cat when the doorbell rang.
Clutching at my chest and trying to breathe deep to calm my racing heart, I slowly walked over to the door. I took one more breath then opened it.
And Dylan was standing there, looking all kinds of sexy.
We were going to a gallery showing—which I took to mean fancy dress, so I was wearing the dress I got for Hope’s wedding. Dylan was dressed in what I guessed was bad boy formal. Black jeans, black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket.
“You look amazing,” he murmured, staring at me like he’d never seen me in this dress before.
I shook my head. “You look like we’re going to knock over a liquor store. I am clearly overdressed. Give me a minute.”
I moved to close the door when he jumped in front of it to stop me. “Wait! No. Please don’t change. You look fucking fantastic.” He tipped his head. “And we’ll be late if we don’t leave right now.”
“Fine.” I left the door to go grab my purse and the light jacket I’d borrowed from Sabrina. “I feel ridiculous though.”
“I swear to god, you won’t when we get there. I’m just, uh, kinda nervous? And dressing up only makes me more nervous, so I thought I should be comfortable in one way at least.”
I grabbed his hand and rubbed my thumb over the back of it. “I make you nervous?”
He groaned. “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea.” He swayed toward me. “So much. I really don’t wanna fuck this up.”
A ripple ran through my body at the amount of absolute power I felt in that moment. He wanted me so much that he was nervous? Over me?
I watched him sway toward me for a beat then closed my eyes, certain he was about to kiss me. Screw going out. We should just have the date right here. Or better yet, in my new bedroom.
Dylan tugged my hand, pulling me down the hallway. “As much as I want to kiss you right now, I really can’t. I’m not rushing the next time we’re together, and I really want to show you how much you mean to me first.”
“Dylan,” I moaned, all but stomping my feet as I followed him. “I believe you. I’m important. You value me. You only want the best for me, which is why you wanted me to live on my own. I believe it all. Now let’s go back inside my place.”
His rich laughter rolled through the narrow hallway. “Christ, you’re cute. But I’m serious. There’s something I need to show you.” We exited the building, and he led me to his truck, still idling on the curb. He clicked the door lock button and then opened my door for me. “My lady?”
Rolling my eyes, I tucked a hand in the overhead handle in the truck’s interior and hoisted myself inside. And a few minutes later we were riding down the freeway. “So where are we going exactly?”
“A gallery showing like I said.”
I hummed. I mean, I liked art, probably more than the average girl, but still I’d rather be back in my apartment learning all the things that made Dylan growl and moan. What man seriously turned down a sure thing to go to a gallery?
We exchanged some small talk about my new apartment, the car Austin had hooked me up with, my college classes for next semester, and my volunteering. Dylan filled me in on the shenanigans I’d somehow missed at work the last week involving Ryan intent on a wiring job and a nerf gun.
“The best part though is that the bullets were the kind with the suckers on the end. So he’s standing over the bike lift with a dart stuck on his forehead. He yelled so loud. Somehow, he didn’t think it was funny. Go figure. I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast.”
“Where was I when all this was going on?” I giggled, picturing Ryan with the dart between his eyes.
“Austin said he gave you some time off to volunteer?”
I nodded. Made sense.
We exited I-80 and turned through the downtown corridor until he came to a stop in the alphabet streets near where a crowd of people waited in front of a brightly lit red brick building.
Dylan turned the truck off and silence filled the cab as he surveyed the crowd, then he audibly gulped.
“Dylan? What’s going on? Why are you so… Are you showing tonight!?”
He nodded tightly.
“Oh my god. Congrats! That’s amazing. You know it’s going to be okay, right? Everyone is going to see what an amazing artist you are. Because you are amazing. I’ve loved everything you’ve painted.”
“Let’s hope that’s still true,” he muttered not quite under his breath.
I threw him a confused look, but he was already swinging out of the truck.
I gathered my things, and pushed my door open.
He was standing there with his hand out, waiting for me.
Taking his hand, I climbed down then wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling his body against mine.
“You are going to kill it. I have every confidence in you, okay? Just relax and enjoy the moment.”
Going up on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips against his. And just like that, I felt all the tension drain out of his shoulders as he kissed me back.
After a moment and before our kiss could turn too dirty, he pulled away with a sigh. “Thank you. Just…” He sighed again. “Thank you.”
I studied his face. He looked calmer, but I could tell he was still a bit keyed up. “Would it help if we called your family? Considering this is the first I’m hearing about it, I doubt you even told them about your showing.”
His shoulders moved as he shifted his weight. “I don’t know.”
“Your Aunt Wendy sounded like she’d like to see your work.” I remembered her little speech about art at Thanksgiving dinner.
“I know. It’s just hard. So much of myself is on those canvases. It’s one thing for strangers to look at them, but my family could probably guess what it all means.”
I gave him a smile. “I think they’d only be supportive, but it’s your call. It’s your art, your family. Just think about it okay? Tonight could just be for you. Maybe invite them to the next one?”
“That assumes there’ll be another one.” He laughed.
“I know there will be.”
His laughter trailed off at the certainty in my tone, and his eyes burned down at me. “Fuck.” He shook his head. “Nope. We’re going inside. I gotta get control of my urges, otherwise I’ll be bending you over in that alley over there, and we’ll miss the whole show.”
I darted a glance at the alley he nodded at. Honestly, that didn’t sound like a bad plan to me…
He laughed. “Come on, troublemaker. Let’s go see a man about a painting. Or four.”
I clutched his hand as we crossed the street and walked down a side alley next to the gallery. “How many pieces do you have in the show?”
“Four. All canvasses. I’ve been itching to do some metalwork, but I haven’t had the time at work lately. Someone has been keeping me on my toes.”
I rolled my eyes. Considering we’d been separated the last few weeks, there was no way he could pin that on me. “I didn’t know you did metal work. I’d love to see it sometime.”
“I think I can arrange that.”
I was grinning as he knocked on the side door to the gallery.
The door opened and a slender man in a suit peered up at Dylan. “Finally. Did you turn off your phone? I’ve been calling and calling you. I was starting to think you weren’t going to show. Come in, come in. Oh, who’s this lovely creature?”
“Elliot, this is my girlfriend, Indigo.”
“Oh, I see.” Elliot grinned at me. “Indigo, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He clutched my hand in his.
“Um, likewise.” I smiled uncertainly back at him.
“You two feel free to have a look around, grab a flute, and celebrate. Doors open to a few members of the media in fifteen and then to the general public in an hour. Have fun. I’ll be circulating if you have any questions or issues.
But remember, all the hard work is done.
Enjoy the moment.” He patted Dylan on the shoulder then ran off after someone in catering.
Dylan gave a huge sigh. “Okay. Let’s do this. I think he put my stuff over here.”
I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and trailed after him. “You know this is a good thing, right? It’s pretty freaking amazing. I mean, you’re literally living my dream. Do you know what I’d give to have a showing? It’s….”
My words trailed away as we stopped in front of a group of four canvases I would’ve recognized as Dylan’s anywhere.
Two of the four I’d seen before—the Rockwell tribute with the grayscale little boy out in the cold, watching a grand family dinner and the same boy visiting his calculating father in prison.
It was the other two that held me spellbound.
One was a portrait of me with the saddest expression, done in all blues.
It must’ve been how I’d looked at him when he told me I had to leave.
So much pain. Rejection was written all over my face.
The pain I’d felt in that moment. And at my feet lay a tiny man clutching his chest, pain twisting his features.
My heart thudded unevenly as I took it all in. I sighed shakily. I never thought he would’ve painted me. Or show our vulnerability so nakedly. So pure.
The last canvass was a self-portrait done in the same gray tones as the little boy in the others.
If anyone looked closely, they would see similar features between the two.
Like the little sad boy, grown Dylan was sad.
His features twisted in agony. His face almost gaunt with thinness.
Very similar to how he’d looked a few weeks ago when I saw him in a work meeting. All pale skin and haunted eyes.
“Oh Dylan,” I whispered.
A rumbling sound left him, then he cleared his throat. “I know I should’ve told you—asked your permission—but when Elliot saw the painting he had to have it in the showing. Said it was the best, most visceral work he’d ever seen.”
“I think that’s true about your self-portrait. I never… It actually hurts me to see you like this, even if it’s only in a painting. I’m so sorry.”
“No, I am. I know I didn’t handle the whole you leaving thing in the best way. It was shit timing. I know you felt used and tossed aside, and I never wanted that. You deserve so much more than what I gave you.”
“Thank you.” I gulped as the emotions inside me threatened to overwhelm me.
He stepped closer and wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, threading his fingers through my hair.
His eyes burned with so much emotion. “How you looked when you left haunted me so much I had to get it down on a canvas. I stupidly thought if I painted it, it wouldn’t hurt as much.
But it was more like a receipt of all my stupidity instead. And a new thing to haunt me.”
“Dylan,” I murmured, then reached up and made him bend down to my level so I could kiss him. I ached to soothe all the naked pain on display. So much of it on the canvasses and on his face. Too much pain.
Someone shouted behind us, reminding me that we were in public with reporters waiting to record everything soon, and I broke our kiss.
Reaching up, I wiped the lipstick off his lips and smiled at him.
“How about we agree to a fresh beginning? We’re just two wildly attractive people getting to know each other without any baggage from our past.”
He smiled wryly down at me. “I don’t know. I have a helluva lot of baggage.”
“Join the club.” I rolled my eyes. “I forgive you okay? And I’m so goddamn proud of you. You’re going to kill it tonight.”
“Thank you.” The undisguised relief in his voice made tears well in my eyes. Then he was kissing me again, uncaring at the ripple of laughter that sounded as our kiss continued on and on.
I didn’t care either this time.
We might not be over it all, but we’d made up so much ground already.
I had a feeling we’d be okay.
After a prolonged time, Dylan broke our kiss, his breathing rough. “We only have to stay for like an hour, hour and a half tops, then we can go back to your place. Maybe get to know each other over some Chinese takeout?”
“Sounds like a plan.” I grinned back at him.