Seven Shades of You

by Johnson, A. M.

  She peeked at me through her fingers and I laughed. “There is no such thing as ‘just condoms’.”

  “When Camden and Royal started…” I cleared my throat and threw the condom I’d picked up onto the coffee table. “Uh… dating, I stuffed Camden’s bedside drawer with condoms and lube as a joke.”

  “Ew.” She lowered her hands as I rubbed her calves. “I could have gone to my grave never knowing that.”

  “It was awesome.”

  “Poor Camden, he probably blushed for days.”

  “Days.”

  My fingers found their way under the hem of her baggy overalls. Her leg was smooth to the touch, her skin hot. Like always, I wanted more, and as I kneaded the muscle of her calf, I inched my way to the top of her knee.

  “That feels good.” Indie rested her head on the arm of the sofa. “I feel like I stood all day.”

  “Did you finish it?”

  “No. I started the second piece over. It didn’t match the first one like I wanted.” She closed her eyes as I dragged the tips of my fingers over her knee, down the side of her leg. “I don’t want to disappoint Hintz.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  “When it comes to you, I’m sure about everything.”

  She opened her eyes, and I focused on the thin silver halo that surrounded the blue of her iris. I hadn’t captured it like I’d wanted, and the drawing hidden in my bag suddenly seemed amateurish. Maybe I wasn’t sure about all things pertaining to Indie. My stomach flipped as I thought about her seeing it.

  “Can I borrow some of that confidence?” she asked.

  “Only if I can borrow some of your talent.” I reluctantly pulled my hand away from her leg and squeezed her foot. “Sit up, I have something for you.”

  Lifting Indie’s legs, I stood from the couch. I couldn’t meet her eyes as I rummaged through my bag and pulled out my black sketchbook. I flipped through a few of the pages and grimaced. Nothing here was worthy enough to show her, not even this. My thumb traced the curve of her lip on the page, and I took a deep breath.

  I started to talk as I turned to face her. “I worked on this forever.”

  Her hands were outstretched, expectant. I wanted to chicken out, show her the drawing I did of Mt. Hood. But her bottom lip was pinned between her teeth, her cheeks flushed, hopeful, and of course I’d never deny her what she wanted.

  I sat down next to her and laid the sketchbook in her waiting hands. “I wish I was better. At so many things.”

  She didn’t speak as she opened it. As she turned the pages with reverence, pausing to absorb the pictures, the lines. Mt. Hood. The lake near campus. Beckett House on a slow, lazy Sunday morning. Royal and Camden on the couch. Each drawing more personal as she moved through the book. My mom in bed, on the porch. The field by my house. I stared down at the pages, nervous and unsure. What did she see when she looked at the world through my lens? Was it good enough? Indie lingered on a sketch of my mother. It was unfinished. My mom had fallen asleep before I’d been able to get the lines right. A drop of wetness landed on Indie’s hand and she sniffled, wiping it away on her knee.

  Indie’s lashes were damp, her eyes shimmering as she touched the curve of my mother’s smile. My work had affected her. It felt wrong to feel good about your girlfriend crying. But I did.

  “She’s beautiful.” Whispering through another sniffle, she said, “This is my favorite.”

  I swallowed through the ache in my throat. “You haven’t gotten to the end yet.”

  She lifted her eyes. “Kai, I—”

  “Keep going.” I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans.

  She flipped past a few more half-finished sketches, and her breath hitched as she came to the last page. Indie’s fingers shook, causing the page to tremble. Everything in this sketchbook had been drawn with a plain pencil. Everything, except for this. For her. I’d drawn her face a thousand times. A. Thousand. Times. It wasn’t until I’d added color did it truly start to take form. Take shape. Coming alive on the paper, like she was there looking back at me.

  With wet cheeks and awe in her eyes, she looked at me now. Her lips had swollen with tears as she brushed them away with her fingers. I was vulnerable, open for the slaughter, on this couch, with her.

  “Is this how you really see me?” she asked, each breath cut short and hard as she tried to hold back her emotion.

  I glanced down at my drawing. Golden hair filled the white page in waves, crowning the top of her head. Certain pieces wrapped around sprigs of lavender, and if you looked close enough, you’d see it in her azure eyes like sea glass, lined with silver, the hidden word, whisper, repeated in a spiral toward the center of her pupil. I’d created this so everything, every one of her features were elevated and bright. Her lips slightly open, more red than pink. Her cheeks more rose than peach.

  “Yes… and no.” I wiped the moisture from under her eyes with my thumb. “It’s nowhere near as good as the real thing.”

  “I love it.”

  She gripped my shirt, craning her neck until she was kissing me. Salty lips claimed mine, and I devoured her taste until she pulled away to admire the drawing again with a smile.

  Indie pressed another kiss to my chin. “I would have never painted myself in such bold colors. I would have picked something more muted, subdued. My dad has this thing he always says. It’s like his I love you. He tells us that we belong to color. And I didn’t realize that I never believed him… I mean… not that he loves me, I know he loves me.” She gave me a watery smile, and I curled my fingers through hers. “But, Kai…” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her lips together, shaking her head as she stared down at her likeness. “I believe him now. I believe you.”

  I lifted the drawing from her lap and placed it on the table. Cupping her face, I kissed her once, and again, and again. My pulse raging with each taste of her lips, I fell into the soft warmth of her mouth. Her fingers pushed into my hair as I gripped her waist, dragging her closer until she straddled my lap. All of my sensible thought went out the window. The worn denim of her overalls, familiar under my palms, gave way as she shrugged off the straps. The fabric pooled around her hips, and I wanted to strip off her tank top, touch her skin, her breasts—memorize the pink of her nipples as I kissed them. As I whispered the words I love you into her flesh.

  Five.

  Four.

  “I love this,” I breathed, lips to neck. “And this.” Lips to lips.

  Three.

  I was on the mark, my arms over my head. The water in front of me, tempting me to break through it. I wanted her to believe it. To believe me. I wanted to trust this exposed nerve, this ache. I wanted to have the courage to say what I fucking felt.

  Two.

  “And this,” I whispered as I trailed my thumb across her jaw.

  One.

  “I’m in love with you, Indie.”

  Indigo

  Tears welled along my lashes. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to be the girl who was shocked by those five words. I’m in love with you. And the longer I stared into his eyes, I realized he meant it. His drawing was proof enough, and maybe I’d had a fleeting thought that it was too good to be true, maybe the voice in my head had tried to ruin this moment. But I wouldn’t let her out, not now. Not with him looking at me like this. Like I was truly as beautiful as the girl he’d drawn inside his sketchbook.

  His thumb rested on my lip as a tear escaped down my cheek. It trickled under his touch and pooled against his skin.

  “Please... don’t cry,” he whispered as he wiped away the tear. “It’s okay... if you don’t love me, it’s okay. Indie—”

  “I love you,” I blurted, and Kai’s lips broke into a wide grin. “I do, I love you.” I wiped at my eyes. “I love you.” I kissed his smile.

  “Yeah?” he asked, kissing me back.

  With my arms around his neck, I pushed him deeper into the couch, tasting his lips, slowly, until his eyes clos
ed. “Yes.”

  I’d fallen for Kai. I’d fallen for him the day he’d stood up for my brother. His sacrifice painted in blue across my heart.

  He held my face. “This feeling, Indie. I wish I could explain it better.”

  “I already know… You showed me.”

  “The drawing?”

  “All of it. That’s more than a sketchbook, Kai. It’s a part of you, a part of your heart. You let me open it. I got to see the world through your eyes, see the things you loved so much you had to draw them, had to remember them forever. You had to give them a second life, one only you could capture. In your eyes I saw myself as something more… and more is all I ever wanted.”

  “I want to give you that,” he said, his eyes sparking with a dark flame I’d felt down to the bone. I ached for it. “You deserve it.”

  I rested my hand on the slope of his neck, his heartbeat pounded under my palm. “And so do you.”

  He swallowed, fidgeting with the thin strap of my tank top. “I believe you,” Kai repeated what I’d said earlier in a rough whisper.

  I placed my lips against his, kept them still, waiting. My tongue stole a taste. My mouth parted in a small smile, and I nipped his bottom lip, teasing. An attempt to draw him out first. Kai’s nose brushed mine as his grip on my waist tightened. I gasped when he stood, lifting me. His hands skated to my backside, holding me, my thighs squeezing against his hips as he walked us to my room.

  “Ari and Imogen are gone for break?” he asked, his breath hot against my skin.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  He gave into the standoff, his mouth crashing into mine. This kiss commanded my body. Demanded that I give in. And I did. Kai lowered me to the mattress, his lips leaving me raw as he stood at the foot of the bed. Reaching behind his neck, he pulled his shirt over his head. His chest a golden canvas. Stone, carved into ridges and valleys. Shadows that dipped on either side of his hips, promising power and strength, and though I feared it, I craved it, too. I wanted to know what he was capable of, if given free reign over my body, if I’d survive him.

  Leaning over me with hooded eyes, he pulled my overalls all the way off, letting them fall to the floor.

  “Is this okay?” he asked.

  He always asked. And I always said, “Yes.”

  Every night we could, we’d explored each other, touching with our fingers and mouths, somehow finding the will to stop before it went too far. We’d find ourselves in the pitch black night, under covers, with subdued voices, but we never dove in, never took that last inevitable step. I wasn’t holding on to my innocence, I’d already gifted it to him, in every way possible but one, and as Kai pulled down my underwear with his thumbs, I knew tonight I wanted it all. My fingers knotted in his hair as he kissed my thigh. The soft strands sifted through my fingers, in contrast to the stubble on his chin, and the way it burned the sensitive skin between my legs. White and Red.

  “Kai…”

  The pain of expectation settled itself inside me. Coiling low, the pulse ached as I lifted my hips, inviting him to soothe it, to take me there, but he stopped. Raising his eyes to mine, he kissed me below my belly button, placing wet kisses along the line of my hip. He lifted my tank top, and I helped him by removing it, along with my bra. His palm fit perfectly against my breast, the rough tips of his fingers lingered over the curves, until his mouth was on mine again, and my hands worked open the button of his jeans.

  Kai’s lips never left mine as he pushed his pants down, leaving on his underwear. The cotton material felt foreign as it brushed against me. I wanted skin on skin. My fingers swept below his elastic waistband, and he groaned as I took him in my hand. The biceps in his arms stretched, defined as he held his weight over me. Kai’s teeth dragged over my chin, my jaw, and all that power, that strength I needed, started to build as I pushed my hand up and down. Letting go, I tugged on his underwear and he took them off, kicking them to floor. Kai was bare and hard, pressed against my inner thigh, I shuddered. His kiss was messy, needy, and I shifted my hips, trying to show him what I wanted. He went still, resting his forehead against my shoulder, he caught his breath.

  “Keep going.”

  Doubt clouded his expression as he asked, “Keep going?”

  I gripped his waist, lifting my lips to his with a deep kiss.

  “Yes…” He rolled his hips, and I moaned at the friction. “Keep going.”

  Not enough.

  You’re not enough.

  Kai kissed me, his fingertips ghosting over my stomach, around the curve of my breast, and back down over my ribs. Like the drawing, he saw the whispered words in my eyes and whispered words of his own against my lips as his fingers slid between my legs.

  Perfect.

  Beautiful.

  Love you.

  Want you.

  And when I was close, when the twisted knot of desire threatened to break, he rolled to the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans. The cool air made me shiver as he rolled back toward me with one of the condoms in his hand. I tried not to blush, tried to maintain the heat of the moment, but he saw through it.

  “We can stop, we don’t have to do this.”

  His fingers untied the muscle in my thigh, and the pulse he’d created inside me came to life all over again.

  “I know, and I don’t want to stop.”

  “Okay.”

  His gruff tone woke the butterflies in my stomach as he tore open the packet.

  Kai kissed the slope of my neck, his teeth on my skin, the lobe of my ear, and whispered, “Take down your hair.”

  I did as he asked, feeling every bit of his violet as he watched. The hungry color consumed me. The pain of it started in my chest, working down my limbs, dripping to the tips of my fingers, pulsating between my legs. Kai’s hands framed my face as his lips slid along mine. His fingers slipping into my hair as he gently pushed my knees open with his. I breathed in the scent of his skin, tasted the salt on his lips, and imagined, as his tongue swept into my mouth, the rhythm of our hearts aligning. He reached down between us, the pressure overwhelming as he gradually guided his way inside me.

  I stopped breathing, and Kai placed his hand between my breasts, skimmed his nose along my cheek, and reminded me with a softly whispered, “Breathe, Indie.”

  My name, strained on his lips, he was splitting apart as much as I was, and I found my breath as he pushed deeper. Kai held my gaze, his body firm and solid above me, taking me, holding me.

  “Okay?” he asked, and I nodded.

  I waited for pain, but all I could feel was this perfect intrusion. I took a chance, raising my hips, and he swore under his breath. His eyes fluttering shut as his brows pinched together. His features almost tortured. I wanted to give him relief, wanted his eyes to open, and when they finally did, he kissed me hard and slow. Long, drawn-out kisses matched the way he moved his body, like the way he cut through the pool, shaping and forming himself into the current. Pulling our connection to its limit, he glanced down between our bodies, a bead of sweat dripped down his neck, and as he pushed inside me again, I tasted it on my tongue. Tasted him.

  There were no more voices trying to cut me down, no sickness bleeding through my veins, just the steady feel of his hands, the intimate color of our eyes, and the sound of our bodies. The muscles in Kai’s back were strung between broad, tight shoulders. I ran my fingers along his spine, grasping for skin as I felt the bottom drop, as his pace chased my climax to its peak.

  “Indie,” he said my name as my legs trembled around his hips.

  His fingers fisted the hair at the nape of my neck as he pinned my bottom lip between his teeth. The sting of his bite muted by the low groan in his chest. He dropped his forehead, surrendering to the feeling, and even though I’d started to feel a pin point of soreness between my legs, I kept his rhythm, held his face, kissed him until he collapsed into me. Sweaty and hot.

  His skin puckered as I drew a line down his back with the tip of my finger. Rollin
g himself onto his elbow, he kissed my forehead and I closed my eyes. Kai’s lips pressed against my lashes, my cheek—my mouth. We kissed each other with swollen, full lips, without technique, with tongues that still wanted more. We kissed to find our breath, to find each other after the fall.

  He rested his hand on the plane of my stomach, his fingers painting shapes on my skin as he spoke. “Did I hurt you at all?” He cringed, his big brown eyes searching mine.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me.” I smiled, pushing my fingers through his damp hair. “I feel different, is that dumb?”

  “It’s not dumb.” Kai sat up, grazing his knuckles over my cheek, he stared at me. “It’s not the same, but you were my first… in a way. I’ve never been with anyone I cared about. Never had sex like that.”

  “Sex like what?”

  “Good sex, Indie. Sex that matters. You felt…” Kai’s jaw clenched. “I never wanted to stop. Ready for dumb?” he asked. “I was afraid to let you go. I panicked for minute. I’ve never been a part of someone like that. It was disorienting.” The smile on my face formed of its own accord and he chuckled. “You liked that, huh?”

  “A little bit, yeah.” I leaned over and kissed him. “I might’ve loved it.”

  “I love you.” He took my hand and I laced my fingers through his.

  “I don’t have to meet Royal until seven.”

  “Want me to stay?”

  “I always want you to stay.”

  He grinned. “Mind if I shower?”

  “Want some company?”

  “Never have to ask, Indie. Never ever have to ask.”

  Kai

  It was only a week. Seven days. Saturday to Saturday. But having Indie like this, with her legs around my waist, her damp skin, skin that tasted like sex and salt, pressed against me, her breath in the crook of my neck as I pressed my chest to hers, giving into her softness as I came, I didn’t think I’d last one day without her. My fingers trailed up her back to the nape of her neck as she kissed me with messy lips. Her hair thick through my fingers as she rode my hips, the six o’clock alarm on my phone long forgotten as she shuddered against me.