45. Drew #2
“Why would I want you to move out?” The light turns green and I ease my foot off the brake.
“Because we discussed that I’ll move out when I find a place,” she says. “At the beginning of summer before I moved in.”
I don’t know what to feel right now. Frustration is definitely on the top of the list, both about this situation and about the fact that I can’t figure out if she's trying to tell me something.
Is this a test to determine how serious I am about our relationship?
Is she trying to tell me that she wants to move out because she needs space?
“You know if this was a normal relationship, we wouldn’t be living together at this stage,” she says softly.
I scoff a laugh, glancing at her in disbelief. “When have we ever had a normal relationship?”
Jules laughs, the sound making my skin prickle with goosebumps. Christ, I love her laugh. It’s loud and vibrant, like it comes straight from her soul so you know she’s truly enjoying herself.
“You’re right, but I still think you should see the place,” she says. “You’ll like it when you see it.”
“Too late, I already fucking hate it,” I grumble.
“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re grumpy.” She reaches out and pinches my cheek like I’m a child. The things I let this woman do to me. It’s my fault too, because I always knew she was like this and I had to go fall for her.
Not that I had much choice in the matter. Sometimes I think the universe had meant for us to end up here and life was just waiting for us to catch up on our feelings. My feelings, at least, since I’m already all in and she wants to move out.
I park the car on the street around the corner from the gallery. Getting out, I open Jules’s door for her and she grins at me cheekily. “Remember when you refused to open the door for me?”
I tug her close, bending down to kiss her. I’ll never tire of kissing her. My whole body feels like it’s been zapped with electricity in the best possible way.
“Remember when you were nice?” I ask against her lips.
She grins up at me, her eyes shining with mirth. “I’ve never been nice.”
Under her coat, I pinch her ass. “Always such a brat.”
“I wouldn’t be a brat if you weren’t a brat tamer.” Arching up, she scrapes her teeth along my jaw, her breath fanning across my neck. “We should start walking or we’re going to get arrested for indecent exposure.”
“We’re fully clothed,” I remind her.
Her eyes travel down my body in a slow perusal. I’m wearing black pants and a black sweater to match her because apparently that’s what I do now.
“We won’t be for long,” Jules says, lifting her eyes to mine.
Right. “It’s not too late, we can still go back home.” I place a searing kiss below her ear. I don’t care that we're downtown and people are walking past us. Her scent is intoxicating and I feel myself getting drunk on her.
“Tempting, but our friends are waiting for us,” she says.
I groan, pulling away and taking her hand. I promised her a date and a date is what she’s going to get.
The gallery is a large converted warehouse. The lights are dim and the concrete walls have been painted a dark gray. Remy’s photos are displayed on them, inviting people to step in and experience the world through his eyes.
“I didn’t know he’s a photographer,” I say to Jules as we walk in.
“Remy has been a lot of things,” she says. “He’s almost been a pastry chef, he’s acted, he’s been an assistant to Dawn Morgan, he’s also been a model. Photography is the only thing that’s stuck.”
We look around for the man in question and find him in the middle of the room, talking to a few patrons. Ash is standing next to him, beaming up at his husband. Remy’s eyes land on us and his smile broadens as he excuses himself.
“Finally, I thought you’ll never show up,” he says, pulling Jules into a hug. He releases her only for Ash to step in for a hug.
“Sorry, Bailey needed to go for a walk and then she was upset that we were leaving so we had to sit with her for a while,” Jules says.
Remy and Ash look at me before their eyes drop down to Jules’s and my joined hands. They grin at us.
“I see the two of you are on friendlier terms,” Ash says.
Jules rolls her eyes. “As if I haven’t kept you updated on all the details.”
Laughing, Ash hooks his arm through hers and tugs her away. “Come, tell me about it again.”
I see them catch up with Roman and Lavinia, whom I’d missed when we entered because they’re standing in a dark corner. I realize the intention for what it is when Remy turns to me, his smile dropping slightly. They pulled us away so Remy could have the talk with me.
“Let’s be serious, both of us know that if I try to physically hurt you, only I will get hurt in the process,” Remy says.
I concede with a nod. His eyes go back to Jules.
“Jules is very important to Ash and me. She’s practically family.
Now I know, she and Lavinia are soulmates and your sister will kill you if you hurt her best friend.
Just know that Ash and I will help her kill you and bury your body if you ever even think about hurting Jules.
She’s a gentle soul and she deserves all the best things in the world. ”
I nod in respect and appreciation because that’s what he deserves for standing up to me and for loving Jules. “I’m not going to hurt her. Hell, if I do, I’m pretty sure Jules will take care of the killing part before any of you have a chance.”
“Good, we have an understanding.” Remy offers me his hand and I shake it in agreement.
He’s distracted by a group of people coming in and I take a moment to walk around the gallery. Jules is still talking to Lavinia and Ash.
Roman finds me as I’m looking at a photograph of twisted limbs, trying to figure out how many people are in the photograph and which limb attaches where.
“This is the craziest thing I’ve seen today,” I say.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Roman says. “These are just limbs. Over there, there’s photographs of people in the middle of sex.”
“Are you sure it’s not just Ash and Remy?” I ask.
He glances at me in surprise. “It could have been. Art is art and art is subjective, but I can’t help thinking I’d never do something like that. Maybe that makes me boring.”
“I’m sure that’s it.”
He looks at me assessingly before nodding towards the back. “You’re going to want to check this out.”
Frowning, I follow him toward the back of the gallery and around a hidden corner. There are fewer people here. My heart thuds inside my chest when I look at the photographs. They’re of Jules. A younger version of Jules. It’s so easy for me to carbon date these photos because her eyes are different.
These photos were taken before Gemma died. Her smile is vibrant, blue eyes crinkling with happiness, nothing in the world that could bring her down. She’s majestic, a thing of beauty that’s never existed in the world before and probably won’t ever again.