56. Cole
Cole
“You nervous?” Freddie asks, brushing a piece of lint off my shoulder.
“A little,” I reply, not wishing to admit that my guts have been in knots since breakfast. “I’ve never done this before, and it’s… a lot.”
“I get it,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “We’ll just take it one step at a time, ok?”
“Ok,” I agree, feeling the tension loosen a fraction.
“You’re unbelievably talented,” he adds. “Everyone’s going to be wowed.”
“Thanks, pretty boy.”
He grins, then his gaze drifts over my shoulder. “Speaking of pretty…”
I turn as Sloane appears in the bedroom doorway in a long scarlet dress that flows over her curves like a waterfall. As she moves towards us, a thigh-high split reveals an indecent flash of creamy thigh.
“Is this too much for an exhibition opening?” As she twirls, sparkles catch in the light. She looks like a living flame. “I’ve had to use a tonne of concealer on the bruises.”
“You look stunning, firecracker.” My voice feels thick with emotion. “Are you sure you feel well enough?”
“This is your first ever art show. Wild horses couldn’t keep me from your side tonight.” She beams at me and I feel the familiar flush of love that suffuses my body whenever she’s near.
“Come here.” I crook a finger at her and she steps into my arms. Freddie muscles in, and the three of us stand in a shared hug. They both just fit so perfectly in my arms.
“How fucking lucky are we,” he says, squeezing lightly. Sloane’s ribs are healing well but she’s still a bit tender.
“Lottery lucky,” she replies, resting her head on my shoulder.
Francesco called me the week after his visit to request six of my paintings for the gallery.
One of his other painters had dropped out of his upcoming exhibition, leaving him in the lurch.
He described our meeting as a miracle of all miracles, enabling me to slot in with hardly any notice given my style complemented the collection he’d already planned to show.
I’ve barely had time to catch my breath given everything that happened with Sloane. The fact that my paintings are about to be shown in a real gallery is mind-blowing to me. I can’t get my head around it.
“Ready to head out? Our taxi should be here in a few moments.” Freddie looks at his phone. “In fact, it’s arriving now.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
We arrive at Francesco’s gallery in style. He’s literally rolled out the red carpet, and as we extract ourselves from the cab, I feel another flicker of nerves.
Freddie and Sloane come to either side of me as we stand facing the entrance. Then they each slip a hand into mine and I know everything’s going to be alright.
“Welcome to Epiphanies in Colour,” says a statuesque woman, handing us each a glass of champagne at the door.
Her voice has the faint trace of an accent.
French perhaps? “Please note that any paintings that have a blue dot next to them have been sold. Everything else is available for purchase. Paintings will be delivered to their new homes at the end of the exhibition.”
“This is Cole Avery, one of the artists,” Freddie butts in, as the woman’s eyes widen.
“Oh, Mr Avery, it is such a pleasure to meet you. I adore your work. It has such a sensual quality. I imagine you must have a lot of… inspiration.” She glances between the three of us, an enigmatic smile gracing her beautiful face.
I clear my throat as I feel a blush crest over my cheeks.
“Thank you, Miss… ah…”
“Seren,” she says, offering a hand.
“Lovely to meet you, Seren. Thank you for your very generous words.”
“Not at all. Please enjoy the exhibition. Francesco is at the back, when you want to say hello.”
I nod and we make our way into the main room, where every wall explodes in colour.
“Was she flirting with us?” Freddie grins, waggling his eyebrows at Sloane.
“She was totally flirting with us,” Sloane agrees. “Fine by me, she’s a total smokeshow.”
“Are we not enough to keep you satisfied, firecracker?”
“Oh, a woman can never have too many paramours, darling.”
I lean down and press a kiss to her neck before nipping her with my teeth.
“Behave.”
“What if I want to be punished?”
Christ, this woman is testing me. I cannot have a goddamn erection at my first ever gallery showing.
“I’ll be glad to assist,” I say softly so that only she can hear.
The look she gives me is pure mischief.
An hour later, the showing is in full swing. Jessie arrived shortly after we did, followed by Luke and Emmy. Emmy immediately stole Sloane away, and I expect Freddie’s filling Luke in on what went down at work.
I’m bowled over by the show of support. It’s not as if I didn’t have friends before, but this new circle – one that just accepts us without batting an eyelid – is truly something.
I know it’s something of a bubble and that we’ll get our share of looks and surprised reactions from family and other friends, but I’m very content to live in our little open-minded kinky community.
“This is really something, Cole. I hope you’re suitably proud.” Jessie’s smile is for me but her eyes are fixed on one of my paintings. “This one is my favourite.”
She’s staring at my biggest painting yet.
The canvas spans several feet across. It’s rich with deep purples, navy shades, and a hint of pink.
There are gold accents scattered across the canvas which catch the light and dance in your vision.
It’s the one I did the night I realised I was in love with them both.
When I realised that the best days of my life were here to stay, because they were mine.
“Thank you. It’s probably my favourite too. And this evening would never have happened without you, Jessie. I can’t thank you enough for putting me in touch with Francesco.”
She waves a hand, dismissing me.
“This is all you. I merely sent a text to an old friend who I knew would appreciate your talent.”
“Well, I am indebted to you. For more than just this.” She doesn’t miss the way my gaze settles on Sloane and Freddie on the other side of the room.
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s surprisingly ok, I think. She’s healing up well and she’s making plans to move. All I want to do is scoop her up and move her in with me, but I know it’s too soon for her. She needs to know she can fly solo.”
“You’re learning,” Jessie grins. “She’s always been a free bird. She just needs to believe it now.”
“You’ve got a real gift for seeing people, you know that?” I say softly, looking down at her.
“I like knowing what makes people tick. Maybe I should be the one doing the psychology degree, eh?”
“It certainly does seem like an advantage,” I agree.
Seren materialises a moment later at my elbow.
“Francesco wanted me to inform you that all of your paintings have been sold.”
My heart stutters in my chest. What?
“Are you serious?”
“I would never joke about art, Mr Avery,” she says with a smile, leaning around me to place a blue dot next to the painting.
“I can’t believe it.”
Sloane and Freddie appear in that moment, and Sloane clocks the blue dot.
“Oh my God, Cole! It sold?” she says, eyes lighting up.
“Apparently they’ve all sold,” I say, disbelief in my voice.
“No way! That’s incredible,” Freddie says, throwing an arm around my shoulders. His joy is so infectious, I can’t help but break into a beaming smile as the reality sinks in. I, Cole Avery, have sold six paintings in the space of two hours.
“We need champagne, immediately,” says Sloane, waving Em and Luke over.
The party carries on long into the night.