7. Shane
Chapter 7
Shane
M ax and Raquel know why I don’t spend much time in the bars or out on the town. Even if it’s been years since I’ve run into any trouble, I try to keep a low profile and a bar is exactly the kind of place that’s hard to do. I’ve told them I’d love to gallivant with them if I could—well, maybe love is too strong of a word—but for whatever reason they’re both determined to force me into this.
I catch Kaycia’s curious gaze on me as I chew the inside of my cheek. I don’t want her to assume she’s the reason for my hesitation. She probably already thinks I’m a moody jerk after Max tried flying onto the balcony earlier and then proceeded to flirt with her. I have to remind myself he had no way of knowing I’d finally invite her to join us after months of talking about her.
“What do you think? You wanna grab dinner and spend the evening at a dive bar listening to this asshole next weekend?” I ask her, looking up as I rub my palm across the nape of my neck to mask my nerves.
I’ve been trying to keep from staring at Kaycia while she eats, but I can’t help but run my eyes over her perched on my countertop next to the stove. It’d be simple to walk up to her, step between her knees, and breathe her in. Press against her curves. Taste her lips.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman in my apartment who isn’t Raquel or Jamila. Even longer since there’s been anyone I’ve wanted to get to know more closely on a personal level. No one has made me willing to risk spilling my past to them. Now this woman has me as nervous as an inexperienced pup asking a girl on his first date. I can’t decide if it was a mistake for me to invite her over with everyone here, or better so I don’t end up making a fool out of myself by trying to kiss her.
She considers my question, raking her blue eyes over me as she dramatically takes another bite of her sandwich. As she chews, her lips twitch into a smile. Then she takes a slow sip of her wine, keeping me on tenterhooks until she finally answers with a shrug of her shoulder. “I think that would be fun.” I can’t help the smile that crosses my face.
“I expect free drinks, J,” I joke, but my chest warms knowing I get to take Kaycia out, that she thinks going out with me would be fun.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Jamila answers, grinning at Kaycia and bumping Raquel with her hip in delight.
With plans for next weekend settled, and everyone finished with their food, we return to the balcony to have another drink while the city lights illuminate the night. I toss Raquel a lighter for the citronella candles on the table. Raquel and Jamila sit farther from the door, and Max leans against the railing with the breeze in his hair. They all arranged themselves on purpose, forcing Kaycia and me to sit close together near the sliding glass door. Whether she notices or not she doesn’t remark, taking a seat on one of the remaining cushioned chairs. When I sit in the chair next to her, my knee brushes the side of her thigh and sends a jolt through me, speeding my heart up a little when she doesn’t make a move to shift away. If anything, she leans closer, her glass of wine dangling from her paint-stained fingers.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen real stars?” she whispers.
“Earlier this afternoon,” I reply softly, thinking of the painting in her apartment with the gold leaf constellations across the inky sky. She huffs a laugh, her cheeks flushed from the wine, the heat, or maybe—hopefully—the connection between us. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten out of the city. The sunsets almost make it worth it when they’re as pretty as the one today.” I catch myself leaning toward her when Max interrupts.
“So, Kaycia, I missed it earlier, what kind of art do you make?” he asks, breaking whatever spell wove between us as Kaycia looks up and I bristle.
“I paint. Figures, the sky, landscapes. I like to experiment by combining them,” she explains, her eyes bright when she speaks about her work.
“Like… naked ladies in the grass?” Max jokes.
Kaycia rolls her eyes and laughs a little, but continues to explain, “More like naked ladies made of starlight and wildflowers.” Her gaze flicks to mine briefly. “Or handsome men made of sunset daydreams.”
“Have you always painted?” I ask.
“Yes, almost my whole life. I majored in art in college even though my parents hated it. They said I was wasting my degree. There wasn’t much I could do with it back home though, until I’d finally had enough and moved. My parents are still giving me shit about it. That’s why the call earlier was so tense,” she explains.
“Ah,” I reply, thinking of the call with her mother. “They don’t approve of your move?”
“They don’t approve of any of it. The giving up my dependable paycheck, the moving to a city I’ve never lived in before, living like, in their words, ‘a starving artist in some bohemian fantasy’. They keep pressuring me to come home because they think the world is chaotic and unstable. They don’t think I can survive on my own. It’s like they forget I’m fucking twenty-six years old.” Kaycia pauses, her fingers gripping her wine glass tightly as she takes a breath.
Passion fuels her voice when she continues, “But they don’t get it. When the world is chaotic and feels miserable, that’s precisely when art matters. What if my art can inspire someone to keep going? What if it brightens someone’s day whenever they walk past it? Isn’t that more important than stability in some bullshit town you’ve never left?”
Everyone watches her when she stops, quiet while she exhales and blinks a few times. Her jaw is tense and she holds her head high, as though she’s used to having to defend herself on this topic. When her eyes cut to mine, as though she expects a challenge, I’m struck with just how deep I’m in it already for this woman. I offer a half smile and tilt my bottle toward her in agreement, gently tapping it against her glass.
“Fuck ‘em,” Raquel says. “To living a bohemian fantasy.” She holds her beer up and everyone joins in, clinking bottles and glasses together in solidarity.
“I’m sorry,” Kaycia says after the toast with a nervous chuckle. “I get frustrated, and I let the wine talk for me.”
“No. If you can’t share your feelings with your friends, who can you share them with?” Jamila soothes. “And you’re right. Art is always important, but especially in times of strife and struggle. It shows that we aren’t alone. At least that’s what I think.”
“Wholeheartedly,” Max adds, raising his beer in a salute.
“Well, I’m glad to have found someone to rant to. Hopefully, I’ll be invited back. How did I get so lucky to have such a great neighbor?” Kaycia asks, leaning over to bump my shoulder with hers. She lingers for a moment, our eyes catching before hers flick to my lips. They part under her gaze, and I take a moment to inhale her scent. For a moment, I forget there are three other people on my balcony—two of whom can scent just as well as I can.
“On that note,” Max interrupts, again, clearing his throat. His voice refocuses our attention and reminds us we aren’t alone. “I’ve got to head home. Quel, J, you coming?”
Raquel and Jamila stand, collecting the leftover bottles to throw away while I sit back from Kaycia.
“It was so nice to meet you, Kaycia!” Jamila smiles with a little wave, her hands full of empties. “Can’t wait for next weekend.”
Kaycia stands to help tidy up, too, and we all end up in the kitchen giving half hugs and saying goodbye. I pull Max to the side while Raquel and Jamila gather their things. “What the fuck, man?”
“You should be thanking me. Now you have a date with the girl you’re obviously obsessed with since you wouldn’t grow a pair and ask her out on your own.” Max cocks his head to the side, so like the falcon he shifts into. He smiles and cuffs me on the shoulder.
“Bring my shit back next time.” I avoid admitting that he’s right, instead nodding to the clothes he’s wearing. The clothes I keep in a backpack for quick changes, like the one he made on the landing after realizing an unexpected guest would have witnessed him shifting on the balcony.
“Will do. Now make sure you kiss her goodnight, you asshole.” He gives a playful punch to my ribs then pats me on the back before heading to the door. “Let’s go, ladies! Kaycia, nice to meet you.”
“Goodnight!” Kaycia replies, waving as they all file out, leaving the two of us alone in my kitchen.