39. Drew

Chapter Thirty-Nine

DREW

I wanted to return Kate’s call but I was angry. Angry at myself. How could I have let myself be so vulnerable to a woman? I knew better. I fell for the one girl that I knew would never fall for me. When she didn’t call again, I knew that it was over.

She doesn’t love me. Now, it’s like I’m sixteen again, totally heartbroken over a girl. But this is so much worse. No one’s ever made me feel the way she does.

I keep waiting for these feelings to fade and wishing I could forget about her. But I don’t love her any less. For weeks after, every time I got a knock at my door, my heart skipped a beat thinking it could be her. But it never was.

Then one day, a messenger appeared at my door with an envelope from Nina Savoy. It was the proof of Kate’s spread for Lux Magazine with a note of praise for my work. She looked incredible and I began reliving everything about that day. How I walked in on her in the dressing room by mistake. How nervous she was to be wearing so little in front of the camera. How her energy shifted when I fixed her stocking.

I wanted to call her straight away but I remembered Nina’s words— leave that girl alone. She’s right. Kate’s too good for a bloke like me. That doesn’t stop me from checking her social media feed regularly. But there’s nothing. Nothing until this morning when she posts a smiley selfie, saying that she’s been in her “design cave”.

If you ask me, the only thing she’s designing is new ways to drive me fucking insane. I hope she really is happy. She deserves that. I only wish she could be happy with me. But clearly, she’s moved on. I need to move on too.

That’s why I’m back in New York City for my artistic debut. But I’m not alone. Mick’s come with me. The two of us have been spending more time together, mending our respective broken hearts with whiskey and Damien Rice songs.

I had to stop by the gallery as soon as I arrived yesterday to sign a few things. While I was there, I tried to push Kate from my mind but Olivia asked me how she’s been. I told her the truth—that I didn’t know because we hadn’t talked.

Afterward, I walked back to my hotel in Soho to help clear my head, but the truth was I wanted to walk by Kate’s family home on Greenwich Street. I stood across the street, gazing up at the four-story brownstone in the middle of Manhattan. I knew she wasn’t there. But it still made me feel close to her.

Now Mick and I are dressed for the gallery event—he in a nice suit with a casually open-collar shirt, and me in my typical white T-shirt and jeans. I almost forgo my leather jacket since this August heat is mad. But it’s who I am. So I slip it on.

“What do you say we grab a drink at the bar before we head over?” Mick asks as we step onto the lift.

I let out a sigh. Part of me is anxious to get there. And another part of me doesn’t even want to go. Going to the bar might help alleviate both of those, so I say, “Sure.”

Walking toward the bar, about a million thoughts are running through my head. All I can think is, what if people hate my photographs? What if they love them? What if nothing sells? What if they all sell? Whose walls will they hang from?

Then my mind wanders to the photo I hung on Kate’s wall—that gorgeous photo of her in red that day. The only one with any color.

“There he is!” Someone calls out ahead, pulling me out of my Kate haze. I look up and find my brother, Kent, grinning with open arms. My cousins, Dahlia and Dash, are at his side with warm smiles. I glance at Mick who sends me a wink. He’s not at all surprised by their presence.

“What are you lot doing here?” I ask and they each greet me in their own ways—Kent with a pat on the back, Dash with a firm handshake, and Dahlia with a big squeeze. For a moment, I feel lighter.

“You didn’t think we’d miss your big night, did you?” Dahlia says in her L.A. accent that morphs into a London inflection.

“How do you even know about it?” I glance at Mick again who looks guilty as charged. He’s the only one I told. He and Kate, that is.

“I heard it from Mick,” Kent says.

“I heard it from Kent,” Dahlia says.

“I heard it from Dahly, but we should have heard it from you,” Dash adds. “We’ve all been waiting for this day to finally come. I don’t know what finally convinced you, but it’s about damn time.”

Kent passes sparkling champagne glasses to everyone and raises his arm in a toast. “To Drew, who finally got the courage to put himself out there!”

My family cheers and downs their celebratory drinks. The liquid feels warm in my chest. “Thank you. I’m really touched that you all are here for me. I love you all.”

“Aw, look at him getting all mawkish,” Kent jokes.

I am feeling very open even though it’s new and uncomfortable. Will I ever be the same after all that’s happened?

The five of us sip on cocktails and catch up for a bit before heading to the gallery. By the time we arrive at the opening, it’s in full swing. I feel jittery stepping out of the car. The sun has nearly set, and I peer inside the brightly-lit gallery windows. The wired sculptures are no longer standing. Instead, the place is packed with well-dressed art patrons sipping champagne and snatching tiny quiches from the black-tie waiters, all while perusing the various pieces from various artists. Including mine. It’s almost surreal.

“You all head inside. I’ll be right behind you,” I say.

“You sure?” Mick asks.

“Yeah, I just need a minute.”

My family walks inside, looking back at me every few steps. I stand on the street and watch from outside as people pass me on the sidewalk. This is it. It’s really happening. If only Kate could be here too. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.

I realize I’m stalling. So I take a deep breath and muster the courage to step inside, putting myself out there once more. Mick, Kent, Dahlia, and Dash are lost in the sea of people. So I wander the floor, searching for my display. Peeking over the various heads, I finally spot several familiar photographs. There they are hanging proudly on the wall.

I push through a chatty group to get a closer look and notice a woman wearing a red dress staring at my work. Those legs, those shoulders, that slightly untamed hair—it has to be . . . I tap her shoulder, too twisted up to even utter her name. Half-expecting her to be a figment of my imagination, a brief thrill surges through me when my finger meets her solid shoulder.

She turns around, gasping. Splash! Wet liquid spills over my crotch and down my leg. Now, I know it’s Kate.

“Oh, my God. Drew!” she says, covering her face with her hand. “I can’t believe I did that again!”

A waiter comes by with a cocktail napkin, and I thank him before he walks away. “What are you doing here?” I blot my black jeans with shaky hands, staring at her.

“I told you I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” she says, her soft sage-colored eyes are even more beautiful in the gallery light. “How have you been?”

I hesitate, debating how to answer. I want to tell her that I miss her like mad but I settle for a cool, “All right,” in case she rejects me again. “What about you?”

She takes her own beat, swallows hard, and her expression crumples. “I’ve been miserable since you left New York. You never called me back, and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me, but I just had to come see you. I miss you.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” She stares at me with those big eyes and something in me begins to melt. I want to pull her in and kiss her, but maybe this isn’t what I think this is. “Can we go outside and talk for a minute?” she asks.

“Sure.”

She hints at a smile and takes my hand, pulling me through the crowd. The touch of her skin feels new and unnerving but at the same time, familiar and right. Outside, she leads me up the street, away from the bustling event, and turns to me. I stuff my still-shaky hands in my pockets.

Kate starts to step closer but then appears to think better of it. “Drew, I’m sorry about how I reacted to what you said. I wasn’t expecting you to say that, and I got scared.”

“Maybe you were right to be.” I let my gaze drop to the sidewalk, getting caught by her feet in a pair of red stilettos sandals. Why does she have to have the sexiest feet? The sexiest everything.

She takes my hand. “No, I wasn’t. Life is a crazy, crazy ride, and I realize now that it could be so much better if we could ride it together.” My thoughts exactly. “I know there are a lot of reasons we should walk away from each other, but I don’t care about any of them. And if you don’t either, I want to ask if you’ll meet me in the middle.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, hopeful.

“Stay here, in New York, with me. So we can see what this can really be.”

“You’d leave L.A. to be with me? Why?”

“Because, Drew . . . I love you too.”

Well, look at that. Good girl Kate fell for me. She loves me too! She loves me enough to leave her California life and start a new one with me.

This time, I don’t hesitate. I step closer and press my lips to hers, kissing her the way I’ve wanted to every day since I left. She holds my face in her delicate hands, caressing my stubble.

I’ve never been so happy at the prospect of being with one woman in my whole life. “I love you, Kate,” I whisper on her warm mouth. I wrap her in my arms, breathing her in, and grin like a teenager in love. She’s mine. And I’m hers.

“Come with me.” I take her hand and lead her back to the gallery, this time searching for my family. I find them in the same place I found Kate, staring at my display.

“Hey, guys, I want to introduce you to someone,” I say and they all turn around, looking unsure of what’s happening. “This is Kate, my girlfriend.”

“Ooh, girlfriend,” each of them say in their own way. I introduce them one by one and reintroduce Mick last. My family greets her with warm smiles and handshakes, except for Dahlia who hugs her like they’re long, lost friends.

“It’s about bloody time,” Mick says, patting my shoulder.

“There’s more,” I say, and my family stands at attention. “I’m moving here to New York, so we can be together.”

Kate grins at me and squeezes my hand while Dash and Mick congratulate me, Kent gawks in surprise, and Dahlia hugs us both, grateful I’ll be living in the States like her.

My hand wanders below Kate’s waist, along her beautiful, soft curves, and my imagination begins to run wild about what’s underneath her sexy red dress. Having her by my side for real, my entire body relaxes. It’s a big step, but I know I’m home. With her.

“You and me in New York, huh?” I ask, holding her close.

She keeps my gaze. “Yeah. Just Kate and Just Drew.”

I smile, knowing there is no one better than Just Kate who allows me to be Just Drew. “It’s going to be a wild ride.”

“Is there any other kind worth taking?”

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