by Janna Watts
And now that I’ve finally made it up the stairs, Sawyer’s door is terrifying and huge.
I knock and wait as too many things splinter through me to grasp.
“Honor.” Sawyer says my name like someone kicked the wind out of him as he stares at me with wide eyes.
“I want…” I swallow again, but my mouth is so dry that it doesn’t work so well and I cough.
“Breathe.” Sawyer steps forward but freezes before we touch.
I close my eyes and breathe through my nose a few times before opening my eyes and soaking him in because he seems closer than he did when my eyes closed.
Now I need to say something that cuts through all the BS and gets to the point. “I’m ready for you to paint me.”
He glances down before meeting my eyes again. “What’s different?”
“Everything.” I nod, starting to get a rush of the same empowered feeling I had at the photo shoot. “Everything’s different. And I’ve missed you like crazy but wasn’t sure how to fix that. And you don’t get to call all the shots between us. It isn’t fair to me or to what I want.”
I wish I could pull what I’m feeling out of my chest and place it in his so he’ll believe me, because I’m not sure if he will.
Sawyer sighs as a million emotions cross over his face. “I feel like the moment I catch some footing with you where I feel like we’re both on the same page, you pull away, or something happens, and I just don’t know if I have it in me to try again.”
I close my eyes and try to breathe. I knew what Sawyer would say. I knew it. “I know.” I swallow a few times before giving up and just knowing that it’s not going to be easy to talk. “It’s that I’ve been caught up in the Libby whirlwind, and yes, at first, confused about Toby, but only because of how I let myself get swept up in their mess. Toby is such a good guy, and I wish him all the best, but he and I are not… We won’t ever be, and that’s how it should be and how I want it. But with you…” I’m ready to get on my knees and beg, but at the same time, I know if Sawyer won’t take me, then I’ll find someone else. I’ll just always wonder if I should have tried harder if it doesn’t work now, and part of me wonders if I’d ever really get over losing him.
“I can see being with you. I don’t want to hold anything back anymore. It’s exhausting. I want to be your girlfriend. I want you to paint me. I want to meet your family and your sister, and I want it to be okay that I do this sort of strange thing for a job, and I want to go to school and stand next to you when people look at your art and tell you how amazing you are, because you are. Amazing. I fell for you like you fell for me, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
Our breathing echoes between us in the narrow hallway, but Sawyer doesn’t speak.
“And I’m moving to New York, which might just be complicating the hell out of this.”
We’re silent again, but his shoulders fall slightly and by the way his eyes are both looking at me and not looking at me, I’m hoping that he’s thinking hard about what it would be like to be together.
“Do you want to come in?” He steps back. “I’m painting. Maybe you could help me finish.”
“Yes.” And I bite my lip to keep from completely overreacting in excitement at his small concession.
The door closes, leaving us blissfully alone. And together. Only Sawyer walks back to a large canvas on the wall, his back to me.
Nerves slide through me again as I kick off my shoes and step behind him.
I suck in a breath and hold it. He’s painting me. The silhouette of my face is etched in thin black and he kneels down staring at the white.
“If you’d like to help, you can come down here.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “But it’ll ruin your clothes.”
I freeze, but then strip down until I’m in my tank and panties. At the very least it should get his attention. When I kneel next to him, his eyes float over my body before he closes them and lets out a breath, a small smile forming on the edges of his mouth.
“You’re not playing fair.”
“You’re too important to play fair.” I touch the painting, the edge of my closed eye on the canvas. “And you’re not playing fair either.”
“Here.” He takes my hand and dips it in the cool paint, which feels a bit like thick pudding on my fingers and doesn’t touch my hand to the canvas, but leads me close.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Close your eyes and feel it, and tell me where it goes.”
I close my eyes, but the painting isn’t done yet. “You’re missing.”
“What?”
I open my eyes and touch the canvas, leaving red fingerprints on the outline of my forehead. “Your face should be here.”
His hand comes over mine and together we trace the beginning of the outline of his face in smeary red. When he lets go of my hand, I’m still staring at the painting and how the silhouette of him overlaps with the silhouette of me, and all I can think is—Yes. This is what I want.
Sawyer’s thumb traces my jaw, sending shivers through me. “God, I love you, Honor. So much. It hit me so hard and fast, and I’ve been trying not to feel this way. You have the power to ruin me, you know that?”
“I don’t want to ruin you.” The warmth of him starts to take over my body, and I rest my hands on his face, realizing too late that I’ve painted him.
“You just got me.” He cringes but smiles.
“And did you get me?” I tilt my face to show him the side of me that his thumb slid over.
“Just a little.” His lips graze over my cheek.
Ignoring the paint and the mess, I take his face in my hands and kiss him like he’s my everything. Because suddenly he is. I want him to be.
“I want some firsts with you,” he whispers.
He stands and pulls me to my feet where I rest against him, tracing the red paint in his hair, his neck, across his cheek.
“But we need to take care of something first.”
I’m so out of breath from being this close to him that it takes me a minute to answer. “What?”
He chuckles before touching my nose. “You’re a mess.” He leans down and hoists me over his shoulder and I laugh as he starts for his bathroom.
“But the painting?” I squeal.
“We can paint it later.” He sets me down in the bathtub as his lips meet mine. The hot water hits me, and I can feel his smile and his hands, and his honesty and the possibility of us because I’m no longer a side of a circle, I’m Honor, the girl in love with Sawyer. The girl who is taking control of her future. And this is all I need to be because I am whole.
Epilogue
Six months later – summer break
Toby
Honor and Libby slam into each other in the hallway of Honor’s New York apartment—the one she shares with Sawyer.
The girls hold each other with no sign of breaking away and Sawyer gives me a polite shake because we might all be sort of friends, but we don’t know each other well, and are on opposite ends of the nice-guy spectrum. At least I don’t think of him as just “the painter” anymore.
Six months ago Libby came out of the hospital, and we’ve been together ever since. I was honestly scared that her medication would change her somehow, make her less “Libby” but it didn’t. It made her low days turn into days where we watch movies on the couch together instead of screaming and crying and lying on frozen ponds and her high days less manic and frightening and more like the best parts of being with her. I love her a little more all the time.
The girls are still locked together, and Sawyer and I both shake our heads.
“How was the drive?” he asks, trying to fill the near silence.
“Long.” I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Almost as long as it took us to find a place to park once we got here.”
“I hear ya.” He chuckles. “I got rid of my car.”
Honor has some big thing where she gets to “parade around” (Libby’s words) as one of
Ralph Lauren’s Black Label girls this weekend, and we’ve come to town to celebrate. Honor’s parents are already here in a hotel somewhere.
Sawyer clears his throat, but Honor and Libby have their foreheads together and they’re whispering, probably about us.
“Libby said she wanted to see some of the art stores,” Sawyer says.
“I think she wants to be seen with you at an art store where your work is hung.” And probably embarrass him. I laugh a little and the girls finally break apart.
“Geez, guys.” Libby’s eyes go wide and exasperated as she drags Honor through the door. “Don’t just stand in the hallway. It’s weird.”
She is definitely my Libby.
The walls inside the apartment are covered in canvasses, and I wonder how long it took them to clean enough space for us to come.
We play catch up for a bit and Honor plops next to me and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Glad you two have each other.”
“Me too.” I squeeze Honor’s hand.
“Well. I’m supposed to be sleeping and drinking lots of water, and probably not eating anything.” Honor laughs a little as she stands back up, and it’s still the same gorgeous laugh.
“God, that’s beautiful.” Libby looks at Sawyer. “Please tell me you appreciate the perfection of that laugh.”
Sawyer slides his hands around Honor’s waist as Honor’s cheeks flame. “I definitely appreciate the laugh.”
I’m glad Honor has him and I’m glad that when we’re all together it’s not as awkward as it could be after our time together.
Dinner is hilarious because it is a nonstop commentary from Libby about all the things that are wrong with Ohio. And true to form, Honor’s drinking tea and only taking small nibbles of food.
“I’m so doing junior year abroad,” Libby says.
“Really?” I say. “Where are you going?”
She smirks. “We’re going to London. Very cosmopolitan. You can keep writing amazing news-like articles, and I’ll take pictures. And then we’ll sneak backstage at the Royal Shakespeare and convince all the actors to invite us to their fabulous parties.”
“We can’t afford London. Not right now. We’ll have to save up. Maybe do off-campus housing next year instead of staying in the dorms.” I grin. I’m pushing her on this and she knows it.
“Honor,” she says and flings her lo mein noodles before erupting into laughter.
Honor shakes her head and doesn’t even bother trying to clean up the mess. “Yes?”
“Toby is trying to convince me to shack up in a tiny apartment with him off-campus next year under the guise of ‘saving money’.”
Honor glances at Sawyer and blushes. “It might work out. It has for us.”
He rests his nose against her cheek and pulls her closer, and I’m glad she didn’t let him run away. That she was strong enough to fight for him. It makes it okay that we’re not all three together, when I have Libby and Honor has Sawyer.
Libby rolls her eyes. “That’s because you’re a shameless hussy with no moral compass. I, on the other hand, am saving myself for marriage.”
The whole table erupts in laughter and Libby actually chokes on her snorts.
“But seriously,” she says after she finally regains her breath. “While you’re bohemian apartment is incredibly adorable, I just don’t think living with Toby is the best idea.”
Honor raises an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
Libby rests her chin on her hands. “He never bathes.”
And then we explode into laughter again. Except for Sawyer, who only gets to hear part of the story of Tomas between all of Libby’s snorting.
Hours later, we turn in. Honor kissing us both goodnight before trailing behind Sawyer into their closet-sized room. Libby shoves up my T-shirt and I slide it off without thinking. Then her lips start making a trail up my chest. Oh. No.
“Libby, we’re in their living room,” I whisper in the dark as I listen for sounds from their room. “I’m not doing this here.”
I can feel her pout against my neck, but still she’s pulling down my boxers. My resolve weakens a little with each teasing tug, and I’m wondering if I could forget there’s two people one small room away, and that we don’t have a door, or a lock, or anything.
I hold her hands in mine. “Libby, please.” Only I don’t know now if I’m saying please because I want her to stop or if I don’t want her to stop.
“Honor won’t care. She’s probably screwing her painter in the next room.”
Libby’s fingers start sliding across my lower abdomen, immediately turning me on. “But…” But I don’t have an argument anymore.
“Now that we have sex, and I know what it’s like, I don’t want to stop.” She giggles as her lips trail up my neck.
“We’ve been having sex for two months.”
“I know. And I’m not bored with you yet. That’s pretty awesome.”
“I love that you say things like that.”
“You’re not sick of me?”
“How could I be?” I take my hands off her and finger the top of her small panties. Thong. She wears them, knowing that’s all it takes for me to do what she wants, I’m sure. Not that I mind. “You’re you.”
“True.” She wiggles out of her tank, her chest pressing into me.
I never imagined a girl would feel so familiar. Good, like home. Like a crazy, home that’s so perfectly Libby.
I glance toward the bedroom door where Honor and Sawyer are. Their New York apartment at least has a bedroom, but the foldout couch nearly touches all three walls of their living room. They’re just getting started here, but my guess is that within a year they’ll have a much bigger place. There will always be room for us.
Libby rolls on top of me in my moment of weakness.
“I’ll be on top,” she whispers. “That way if they catch us, it’ll be more my fault.”
I start to argue, but she sits up a little and the light from the window reflects off her breasts and I clamp my mouth shut not wanting anything to change.
Just then the door creaks open and Libby grins, her eyes widening as she freezes above me. I know she thinks this is hilarious because it’s exactly what I was worried about. The thing with Libby is that I’ve done all sorts of things I was worried about, and once they’re done, I’m not worried anymore. I’m not sure when I’ll just start trusting her and jumping in, or maybe it’s good that we’re together. She pushes me forward, and I hold her back enough to keep her out of trouble. Usually.
Honor makes it halfway around the couch before Libby hiccups while trying not to laugh, making Honor jump.
I cover my face, glad there are some blankets over at least part of us as Honor’s eyes find us in the dark.
“Sorry…I…” Honor stammers and then I swear I can feel her mood change. “Really Libby?”
Libby giggles again. “You can stay and watch if you like, but…”
I’m waiting for Honor to dart back into her room or for me to completely deflate in the awkwardness of the situation, but neither happens.
Honor’s eyes are very carefully not on us as she rounds into the kitchen and digs for a glass. Libby slides a little lower. Low enough that the warmth of her presses into me, making sure I’m still ready for her. I definitely am.
I nearly kiss her again when Honor walks back by with her glass. Honor lets out a half-snort laugh, which means I do, and then Libby does.
“Night guys,” Honor whispers.
“Night!” Libby whisper-yells back.
Our circle’s still intact, it’s just a lot more flexible than I imagined it could be.
The moment the door clicks, I’m ready to pick up where we left off. I’m definitely not the guy I was when I first met Libby.
I roll Libby over so fast it catches her breath and widens her gorgeous eyes. My hands wrap around her wrists, holding her still and I slide my thumbs over her palms.
“God, you’re good at this.” She breathes.
I lean down to kiss her.
“Imagine how good you’ll be in a year…”
“Or two…” I play along, kissing across her collarbone. Wanting my lips over every inch of the body I know so well. “Or three…” Because I don’t plan on going anywhere else.
“Or if we—”
“Time to be quiet, Libs.”
She giggles underneath me until I slide my hand over her panties again. “Okay. I’m quiet now,” she whispers.
“You’re never quiet,” I tease as I help her wriggle out of the last bits of clothing.
“But you love me.” She takes my face in her hands, her eyes holding everything I want from her.
“I do.”
Acknowledgments
To authors Cassie Mae and Nyrae Dawn, and the dinosaur hunter who works for shoes - Heather Hubb – thanks for your eyes, your brains, and your help. And to our families who get occasionally set aside for writing time ;-)
Jolene feels the need to write a disclaimer that we totally used Victoria’s Secret and Ralph Lauren to suit our purposes for this story.
About the Authors
Jolene wears juvenile T-shirts, worn-out Chucks, and eats too much chocolate. She makes up words, drinks Shirley Temples, and suffocates a little without her iPod.
Jolenebperry.com
@jolenebperry
jolenesbeenwriting.blogspot.com
Janna wears juvenile pajama pants, worn-out Chucks, and wakes up ridiculously early. Pen name abuser. Rule Breaker. Trouble maker. Corrupter of youth. In books.
@janna_watts
Other Titles
Jolene Perry and Janna Watts also worked together on 10 Weeks—three friends, one summer, summer love shouldn’t be this complicated…
Jolene Perry is also the author of the following young adult titles – Night Sky, Knee Deep, My Heart for Yours, Spill Over, Dizzy, and the upcoming Out of Play, Used to Be and The Happiness of Joy.
She’s also the author of Falling, another new adult novel.