Brush Strokes Read online

  It wasn’t like I didn’t know right from the beginning that Colt was out of my league. I mean, he’s Colt Morgan. He’s just so…so…Colt. He was popular, charming, and probably the most beautiful man I’ve ever known. And he was a notorious ladies man. So why had I thought it would be any different with me? It was silly really. He’d straight up told me that he wasn’t right for me. I guess I should have listened better instead of getting my hopes up just to have them smashed to smithereens again.

  First period I could handle, but the rest of the day was something else. Even at lunch, I could hardly eat with Jake hanging off me like a chimp. It was frustrating, and yet I couldn’t seem to find the right words to tell him to back the heck off. Even Ella seemed stumped, and that was mind boggling. We hadn’t talked privately yet, but I knew she was going to drill me about just what was going on between Jake and I. The problem was, I didn’t even seem to know. It was as though he’d decided we were dating and left me out of the decision process. Apparently I didn’t even get the memo.

  Thankfully it was the end of the day, meaning I could get lost in my art, and Jake was out there on the football field where I wasn’t. As I walked to the art room, I seriously started to wonder if there wasn’t something wrong with me. Shouldn’t I be slightly happy about the way things were turning out? Jake Taylor was just as popular and good looking as Colt. Well, maybe not as good looking. He was easy on the eyes, but Colt had that bad boy, tattoos and piercings, I-don’t-care-what-anyone-thinks attitude that seemed to draw me like a moth to a flame.

  That being said, Jake was still the better choice when one really thought about it. At least, on paper. His family was well respected, and as far as anyone knew Jake was a trouble-free boy who liked to play his sports. He did well in school, and wasn’t quite the player that Colt was. I was sure he got around just as much, but didn’t seem to publicize it quite like Colt managed to.

  And he likes you, my inner voice pointed out. He actually wanted to date me, whereas Colt seemed to find every reason not to, including looking in the back of Reagan Kennedy’s throat. Ugh. Yeah, maybe I needed to give this more of a shot than I was. It was time to push Colt to the back of my mind and really focus on what I was slowly building with Jake.

  As I entered the art room, a subtle chill ran down my spine, the small hairs on my neck stood at attention. I knew Colt was already there, watching me, but I refused to look his way. I also mentally cursed my body for having such a reaction simply to his nearness. That needed to stop, like, now. I set up my paints, doing my best to ignore him. My eyes never left what I was doing, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

  I fiddled with my paints and brushes for a ridiculously long time. Colt watched me the entire time. How did I know? I don’t know, I just did. I could feel his eyes on me as though he were physically touching me. Or, my inner voice reasoned, maybe you’re just delusional. I think not, stupid inner voice. But just to make sure, I glanced up toward the front platform and clashed with those silver eyes I just couldn’t get away from. Heat infused my cheeks as I quickly looked away.

  Focusing on my work didn’t help though, considering my piece was him. God! I just couldn’t escape.

  “Okay people!” Mrs. Hart said loudly, clapping her hands. “Let’s paint! Colt, get into position.”

  Oh I’d like to get him into position. What?! Who put that thought in my head? Giving myself a good shake, I refocused and dipped my brush into my first colour. Taking a steadying breath, I looked up at him, ready to start. As soon as I did, my gaze clashed with his. Of course he had to be looking back at me. He couldn’t be looking at any of the other students, or maybe just the floor. No, he was looking directly at me, his silver eyes boring into me in a way that made me think he was slightly pissed at me.

  That had me sitting up straighter. What the heck did he have to be pissed about? I was the one who should be pissed! He was the one who kissed me like I’ve never been kissed before in my life, and then turned around and kissed another girl – who I’d like to think was my arch nemesis, should I be looking for one. So, no, he did not get to be pissed at me.

  Narrowing my eyes, I glared back at him with all the words I wasn’t saying out loud, hoping he heard them loud and clear. Something sizzled between us as we pretty much yelled at each other silently, in the middle of a room full of people. That energy quickly turned to something that had goose bumps rising along my arms. My breath became shallow, and heat was slithering to parts that did not need to be awakened right then.

  I had to look away. This plan was backfiring – fast. Even Colt seemed to be affected by it. His body was now leaning toward me slightly, as though he were on the verge of launching himself off the platform and right to me. His nostrils flared whenever he took a deep breath in. I wiped my palm on my jeans, and forced myself to focus on my painting instead of him. Which would have worked, if I didn’t have to keep looking back at him in order to continue painting.

  I let my brush stroke across the canvas, caressing the curve of his shoulder. My eyes followed my brush, wondering what it would be like to actually touch the real thing right then. My heart was racing now, to the point where I was afraid those around me could hear it beating in my chest. I glance back at him, and it was like a jolt to my system. I bit my lip to stop myself from panting. His eyes zeroed in on the movement, heating to the point where I thought I might spontaneously combust into flames.

  The rest of the class went like this. I’d paint him, focusing on every inch that covered my canvas, comparing it to what the real thing would be like, and letting my thoughts run wild. Then I’d look at him and get lost in the inferno there that had me literally breaking out into a sweat. By the time class was called to an end, I almost sighed out loud in relief.

  Sitting back, I looked at what I’d accomplished that day, and despite the mental warfare going on between us, and despite the fact that I really, really wished he wasn’t my subject, the painting itself was turning out great. I fought back a proud grin. It wasn’t done yet, but I was starting to think it was going to be one of my best. Especially once I started to add all his artwork onto his body.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  I jumped in my seat, looking up to see Jake standing there, his hair still wet from practice. He wore simple track pants now and a grey school t-shirt. Why did boys get to look good even when they wore crappy clothes and were all sweaty? A girl couldn’t pull it off.

  “Hey,” I said, forcing a smile. What was he doing here? Jake being here was the equivalent of having a bucket of cold water poured over me. I was almost grateful for it. My breathing was starting to return to normal, and now I could focus on someone else, instead of the boy at the front of the class who was hopefully pulling on a shirt by now.

  “I thought I’d give you a lift home,” he said, smiling.

  “Oh, okay,” I replied. “That’s nice of you. I should probably let Ella know.”

  “I already did,” he said.

  Of course he did. Why did this guy seem to like making my decisions for me? That was going to have to stop if this was going to continue. I cleaned up quickly, ignoring the pull of the deep rumble of Colt’s voice as he talked with Mrs. Hart. I kept my head down and hurried to get out of there. Jake waited patiently by the door. Grabbing my bag, I said goodbye to the few remaining students and walked out into the hall where Jake now was. With a big grin, he reached out and grabbed my hand. It looked like we really were a couple. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I was going to at least give it a try. I’d known Jake my entire life, and he’d always been a good guy. It wouldn’t hurt to just let this develop and see where it went. Sure, he didn’t make my blood boil like Colt did, but maybe that wasn’t what I needed. Maybe this – safe and nice, was what I needed. Smiling back at him, I let him lead me out of the school and to his car.

  “What the Hannah Montana is going on?” Ella said as soon as I picked up the phone.

  “What now?” I asked, con
fused.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Olive. How is it that your best friend in the entire world, which is me, if you didn’t know, not be the first person to know that you are dating Jake- might as well be an American Eagle model – Taylor? Hmm? Explain that one to me, Olivia Anne Banks.”

  “Calm down,” I said, falling back onto my bed. “If you were the last to know then so was I.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Ella, I never told him I’d be his girlfriend because he never even asked. I swear. We went out on Saturday and then today he acted like…well, like he was acting. I have no idea what happened.”

  Ella sighed loudly on the other end. “Figures it would be you who just happens to start dating one of the most popular guys in our school without even trying.”

  “Uh, did you not just hear what I said? He just started acting like we’re dating without asking me!”

  “So? It’s Jake Taylor, who cares? And, Colt looked like he was about to murder him all day long. That boy has it bad, and now that someone else has you he isn’t doing much to hide it.”

  A denial was on the tip of my tongue, but then I remembered the way he was staring at me after school and I stopped. The look in his eyes didn’t leave much to the imagination, and he hadn’t made any attempt to hide it from anyone else in the room. No one else had said anything though, so maybe it had all been my imagination. Now I sighed loudly, wondering if I was ever going to really understand boys. Even when I thought I had them figured out, I didn’t really.

  “What was that sigh for?”

  “I’m just thinking about how little I know when it comes to the opposite sex,” I admitted.

  “Amen, sister.”

  “Wait,” I said, sitting up, “I thought you were the boy expert.”

  “Yeah, well, even that only goes so far. I’m starting to think I’m not as smart as I think I am,” she said.

  “So what do I do now?”

  “Date Jake,” she replied simply.

  “But…”

  “Listen, Ollie, I know you had your heart set on Colt, but I think we can both agree that he is way more trouble than he’s worth.”

  I bit back my instinctive response to defend him. No one saw Colt the way I did. He wasn’t trouble, he was good and kind, and did everything he could to help out his friends and mom. He was wholly misunderstood. Well, except maybe his womanizing ways.

  “Jake is safe,” Ella continued. “He’s a good guy and he’ll treat you right. He won’t cheat on you or anything like that. Maybe it’s just better this way.”

  Maybe, I thought as I stared up at my ceiling. If it was better this way, why did it feel so wrong?

  Four days. Four. Days. Four days. FOUR DAYS! I wasn’t sure if I could handle much more. It was Friday and for every day this week I had to deal with Jake’s incessant boyfriend show, and Colt’s mind-fuck at the end of the day. Between the two of them, I was bound to have a nervous breakdown.

  Jake acted as if we were the newly crowned king and queen of Bloomfield High. Everyone seemed to be in on his plan, because whenever we were together it was like we were royalty. It was the strangest thing. Reagan acted like I was her absolute best friend, gushing all the time about how perfect Jake and I were together. It was enough to make me sick.

  Ella and I both knew the only reason she was acting this way was because she felt like Colt was free for the taking. I would have agreed with her if it wasn’t for the after school art project.

  Colt was driving me crazy. Utterly and completely crazy. My nerves were constantly on edge, every sensitive part of my body in tune with every move, every breath, every look of Colt’s. I’d enter Art to paint a picture and get sucked in the Colt Morgan vortex of teenage hormone overdrive. The air itself would sizzle and crackle with energy. Our eyes would lock and stay that way for the entire period as my hand painted his form on my canvas, like it was familiar with every inch of his body.

  My hand fisted by my side as I made my way to Art. The desire to reach out and touch Colt was starting to become unbearable. I was dating one guy, my mind made up. I was giving it a shot and trying my best to be a good girlfriend. But my heart and body didn’t seem to be onboard. They were directly connected to everything Colt Morgan, and only Colt could make them react.

  I couldn’t understand what sort of game Colt was playing at. He didn’t speak to me, didn’t do anything but look at me with that all-consuming want and need in his eyes, stripping me bare every afternoon, and then walking away like he hadn’t just turned my world upside down. Jake would be there to bring me back down to earth, until the next day when it would happen again.

  I stopped just outside of the art room and took a deep breath. I knew Colt was in there, just like I always seemed to be aware of his whereabouts without actually seeing him. Today was going to be different. Today I would paint and that is all. I wouldn’t look into his eyes, I wouldn’t let my thoughts run wild, and I wouldn’t let Colt Morgan get to me. I was putting a stop to this nonsense, today.

  Taking another steadying breath, I entered the room, forcing myself not to look his way. Everything was going well until it was time to look up and start painting. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering up to meet his. My body literally jerked from the force of his intensity. Our gazes locked. The same heat seared through my veins like it had for the past week. Colt Morgan was ruining me.

  I breathed out slowly through parted lips, trying my best to regulate my breathing and the pounding of my heart. Letting my eyes drop, I focused on the tattoo that ran up the left side of his torso, the one I hadn’t finished the day before, and started working. I just needed to focus. So long as I could do that, I could get through another period of this. One more day and then it would be the weekend and I’d have two full days Colt-free.

  I knew he was still watching me, but I managed to keep my eyes on my work. I was almost done this painting, and despite the fact that the subject was torturing me mentally, I really did think it would be one of my best. I had managed to shadow his face just enough that you could see the detail of his strong jaw, and the slight curve of his lip ring, but everything else was lost to the observer’s imagination. His tattoos were what stood out, creating a story of a man who had dealt with more pain and trouble in his short life than some people did their entire lives.

  The hour went by slowly, his constant attention causing my hand to shake while I painted. I did my best to keep my gaze from his, but was caught by him a few times. It was simply impossible not to be ensnared by his intensity. He did things simply by looking at me that no one or nothing ever had.

  When Mrs. Hart called an end to the class, a new anxiety took over because I knew it was only a matter of time before Jake showed up, just like he did every day. I should be happy to have my boyfriend come and drive me home, but a part of me hated having him even in the same room as Colt and the energy that was created between us. It was like he sullied it with his mere presence. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way, but I did regardless. Even though I hated what Colt did to me, I still wanted to keep it separate from anything that had to do with Jake.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Jake said. Same time, same place, same stupid endearment. I fought back the urge to roll my eyes when my back was still to him. I finished screwing the cap on one of my paints, steeling myself before facing him. I looked up and saw Colt watching us, his mouth pressed into a firm, unimpressed line. I looked away and turned to face Jake with a smile.

  “Hey, how was practice?” I asked.

  Jake’s eyes were focused just over my shoulder. He stiffened, his eyes suddenly cold and angry looking. I waited for him to answer me, but he seemed more interested in whatever was going on behind me. I looked over my shoulder and all the breath in my chest froze. Colt stood so close to me I could smell the heady scent of him, a mixture of man, spice and something slightly citrusy. He wasn’t wearing a shirt yet, and my eyes couldn’t help themselves but roam over all
that hard, naked, decorated skin so close to me. He was finally close enough to touch. I forced my hands to stay by my sides so I wouldn’t do just that.

  “Morgan,” Jake said.

  “Taylor,” Colt replied, his eyes moving to lock with mine.

  “Colt?” I said, confused. Why was he standing here? He never came up to me after. Not that I gave him much of an opportunity since Jake always showed up and we left together shortly after. Still, he always kept his distance, so what was the difference now?

  Colt didn’t say anything to me, he simply took one step that brought his body now close enough for me to feel the heat of his skin through my clothes. I sucked in a breath and lifted my head just as his hand reached out and cupped the side of my neck. Without a word, he leaned in and fitted his lips over mine. A low moan sounded and it took me a second to realize it had come from me.

  His tongue lightly stroked across my bottom lip, teasing me. My mouth dropped open of its own accord, accepting him in. Our tongues met and the fact that I was standing in a classroom, with the boy I was supposed to be dating standing just behind me, was suddenly not at all important. Once again I lost myself to Colt Morgan’s kiss. His other hand snaked around my waist, turning me so I faced him fully. He pulled me until I was flush against his chest. My hands landed on the tight skin of his stomach, causing my entire body to shudder.

  A low groan rumbled up his chest while I shook in his arms. He pulled me tighter, angling his head so he could deepen the kiss. I was completely at the mercy of whatever Colt was doing. My body was no longer my own. Five days of built up tension had finally come to an explosive end, and what I needed right now was what Colt was giving me.

  Someone cleared their throat loudly, bringing me back to reality. Colt and I pulled apart. His eyes never left mine as he said, “sorry, Mrs. Hart.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he slowly caressed my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “That needed to happen,” he said to me softly.