by Bates, Aiden
"Jay's a good guy. —Kurt "
"Sending you Jay's contact card now. —Kurt "
"Name your firstborn after me. —Kurt "
"I may have made a mistake. Sorry. —Marcus "
Luke rested his cheek on his desk, staring at the messages. His head was pounding, and all he wanted to do was sleep for a week .
"I hate you. —Luke "
Mainlining coffee got him through the morning, but when lunch rolled around, he found himself slumped over in his chair staring at the new contact on his phone .
"You look like shit," Vivian said as she bustled in with his lunch. "Are you coming down with something ?"
"I don't date artists," he told her, his finger hovering over the delete button. "That's a good policy to have, right ?"
She frowned, tugging his phone out of his hand. "You can't blame all artists for what Liam did." She paused, the lines between her brows deepening. "And Bailey. And the other one. What was his name? Crockett ?"
"Cricket." Luke glared at her, trying to grab his phone back without expending any actual energy. "If that's the best argument you can come up with, then I'm done here ."
"Okay," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "You've picked some really bad apples over the years. But ask yourself this: What was so bad about them?" She leaned over him as he drooped in his chair, too exhausted to play keep away even if he was six inches taller than her. "I'll break it down for you, shall I ?"
"Don't you have a job to do?" he muttered .
"My job is assisting you," she said sweetly. "I'm assisting. The problem with Liam is that he's too much like you ."
Jerking out of his seat, he grabbed his phone. "We couldn't be more different." He tapped back into his contacts and glared at Jay's phone number .
She crossed her arms and leaned one hip against the corner of his desk, ignoring his outburst. "You were both more invested in your jobs than you were in your relationship ."
"I was going to take him to Ireland." He slammed the phone down on his desk, trying to get rid of the image of the empty paint shed .
"Honey," she said, her voice kind but firm, "a week of vacation doesn't make up for a year of neglect, and you know it." It was the same voice she used on problem clients, smooth and calm with nothing to fight back against .
"I went to every gallery show, every opening night party. We lived together!" Frenzied energy shivered through him, and he paced across the room. "If he wanted more time, all he had to do was say so ."
"How many times did you cancel dinner plans to work late? How often did you guys take a weekend trip to wine country or sleep in on Saturday after watching bad movies?" She nodded when he glared at her. "Exactly. I'm not saying it's your fault, boss. I remember when Liam first moved in. You started working Saturdays because he would spend the whole weekend at his studio without coming up for air. Schedules didn't mean anything to him." He turned his back on her, and she sighed. "No one is perfect, Luke ."
"So this is all my fault?" Hunching his shoulders, he stared at the green on green canvas that he had mounted opposite his desk. Even though it had only been there for a week, he was addicted to the soothing effect that it had, a dappled light effect like sunlight in a forest .
She gave him an unimpressed look, tapping her nails against the screen of his phone. "Don't be dense. Bailey, from what you told me, had the opposite problem from Liam. He wanted all of your time, and he threw a tantrum every time you couldn't give it to him. That's not healthy ."
"And I suppose Cricket thought I was too needy." Growling under his breath, he threw his hands up in the air and dragged his eyes away from the painting. "I don't date artists because they're flighty, and I need a partner I can depend on ."
"My last blind date skipped out on the check and left me stranded in the club district without a ride. He was a pharmacist," Vivian said bluntly. "Flighty people are everywhere, but you're not saying ‘I don't date flighty people .’"
"Everyone knows that artists are flightier than normal people ."
"Everyone knows, huh? Is that the kind of evidence that would fly in court, counselor?" She stared down her nose at him, and he ground his teeth. "Maybe what you should really be asking yourself is why do you date so many artists? What do you like about them?" She waved his phone at him. "Maybe now you can find out ."
Horror crept up his spine as he realized that his text messages were open. "What did you do ?"
"I assisted," she said cheerfully, pressing his phone into his hand and walking out of the office with her head held high .
8
"A re you free on Friday? —Luke"
Jay spent Thursday staring at the text while he unloaded and organized the hundreds of dollars of paints that had arrived. It was less than half of what he'd originally had in his cart but still more than he could use in a year. He didn't even remember everything he'd gotten, which was why he'd spent ten minutes laughing at his overflowing drawer of blue paint, some of the colors so similar that he doubted anyone would be able to tell the difference .
He typed out a long reply about why he couldn't go out on Friday, then deleted it while he stacked canvases in order of size and material. He was conditioning an entire bucket of new brushes when he sent his first response .
"No. —Jay "
Two hours later, shuffling around the palettes of watercolors to make space for the acrylics he didn't remember ordering, he was still staring at the phone .
"Maybe. —Jay "
"Why? —Jay "
"Nevermind, I can't. —Jay "
Powering off his phone so that he wouldn't have to see any responses, he set out his new easel and started planning his next painting. He was thinking about trying more realism now that he had the tools, just to see if he could .
Intending to prep a few canvases, he lay down a base layer of blue. The new paints were smooth and rich, and he fell in love with them just mixing them on the palette. They blended like a dream, green flowing through the blue with hardly any effort. He picked up a smaller brush, lines of yellow light appearing on the canvas with the flick of his wrist, and smiled .
It wasn't until he stepped back from a clearing in the woods where a traveling circus had set up that he even realized what he'd done. Cursing, he threw his brushes into the paint thinner, tempted to paint over the whole thing. He glared at the glowing lights, the sky dark overhead. It was definitely not the bright summer day that he'd been aiming for, but even he could tell it was a good painting. The brush strokes were quick and evocative, the colors full of nostalgia, and the whole image screamed of innocence and corruption. The critics would love it .
Turning his phone back on, he wasn't surprised to see that it was after two in the morning. He sent Bonnie a quick text. There were no new messages from Luke waiting, and he double checked his settings to make sure that his replies had gone through .
At this time of night, there was no point in sending anything. Normal people were asleep. Even Bonnie was asleep. Of course, if he sent it now, Luke would just see it in the morning. Nodding to himself, Jay typed out another text .
"Sorry. Working on a new painting. —Jay "
"It's okay. —Luke "
The text appeared almost immediately, and Jay frowned. He sent a response before he could overthink it. "Can't sleep? —Jay "
"No. Snickerdoodles or double chocolate chunk? —Luke "
Jay's mouth watered, and he only debated a moment before hitting dial. "Double chocolate chunk. Is that even a question ?"
Luke laug
hed tiredly. "I guess not," he said, his voice echoing. The silence stretched, metal and glass clinking. "How's the painting going ?"
"Good." At a loss for anything else to say, Jay stared at the picture. "It's really good. Almost done." He smacked himself on the forehead. "I might be here late doing detail work, though. I hate to make plans and then have to cancel them ."
"That's nice of you. Liam always got lost in his painting and forgot we had plans. Just a second." A mixer whirred to life .
Jay bit his lip. He could hang up, make an excuse about not wanting to distract him from his baking. That would be the smart thing to do. The rattle of noise quieted back down. "I did that a lot, which is why I don't make any firm plans if I'm going to be painting." He mouthed a curse, holding the phone away from his ear to call himself an idiot in three languages .
"Good policy. Don't let me distract you ."
"It's okay. I'm waiting for this layer to dry. It'll be a few hours." Jay bit his tongue to keep from saying anything else. Standing awkwardly in front of the canvas, he picked at a hangnail. "Unless you'd rather I didn't bother you ?"
Luke chuckled, a hoarse, unhappy breath of sound. "I'm already up, so we might as well keep each other company ."
"Why can't you sleep?" Jay threw his hand in the air, exasperated with himself, fumbling his phone so that he missed the first part of Luke's reply .
"...driving me crazy. I feel like the world is out to get me." He sounded so lost that the joke that automatically sprang to Jay's lips died unsaid .
"I'm sorry. I know how that feels." Scanning the painting, he frowned at the odd way the shadows were settling. "Right after I left New York, I got caught in a rainstorm. When I went to a laundromat to dry my stuff out, I fell asleep, and somebody stole one of my loads of laundry. On the way back to the campground, I almost got hit by a car and twisted my ankle, and then, that night, a raccoon stole my groceries ."
Still staring at the shadows of the painting, Jay didn't realize how quiet it had gotten until Luke snorted. "Now I feel like a total jerk for whining about how bad my life is ."
"No, no. That wasn't what I meant." He picked up one of his new detail brushes and contemplated the splotchy shadows. It almost looked like he'd set the paint with the intention of adding something, but he couldn't remember what. "I just meant that sometimes everything goes wrong." He idly mixed a tiny bit of white into the dark color still smeared all over his palette. "That's not it, either," he said thoughtfully. "It's more that things don't go the way we expect. Sometimes it leads us to better things ."
"Really," Luke drawled. "And what did your terrible day lead to ?"
Stroking the brush across the canvas, Jay shivered as ghostly figures appeared out of nowhere. "That's creepy," he said, eagerly adding more paint as the characters unfolded. "I can't remember anything specific, other than to go to the grocery store again the next day. It led me here, I guess ."
"What's creepy ?"
"Painting. Don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject." Piling highlights onto a woman in fancy dress, he recognized the curve of her cheek and rolled his eyes. "Sometimes," he told Luke, "I am such a drama queen ."
"Thanks for the warning?" the alpha said with a laugh .
"No seriously. I hid ghosts in this picture for myself to find." He settled back down on his stool, forming the ghostly wisps of his mother's hair. "I'm ridiculous ."
"Knowing you have a problem is the first step ."
Jay laughed so hard he dropped the paintbrush, smearing gray down one leg. It hadn't been that funny, but he couldn't stop. "I need sleep. Oh, my God, do I ever need sleep ."
"You and me, both," Luke said. "I'm going to pull this last batch out of the oven and head to bed ."
They disconnected the call, and Jay stared at his phone. "I'm going to sleep for a hundred years," he said to the silent studio. Hopping off the stool, he stretched until his back popped, looking at the ghosts on the canvas. Maybe things wouldn't go the way he expected. Locking up, he sent off a quick text on the short cab ride to the apartment he had managed to sublet .
"What time should I be ready, and what should I wear? —Jay ."
* * *
H e could hear the music from two blocks away. Jay had to stop for a moment and compose himself, resisting the urge to scream. Luke was right. The world was out to get him .
The carnival was huge, taking up the entire parking lot of the City Convention Center. It was definitely bigger than he remembered the one in New York being .
Weaving through the crowds, he had to stand on his toes to spot Luke hovering by the ticket counter. He plastered a smile on his face and ducked around a group of teenagers. This was a terrible idea .
"You made it," Luke said as he approached, shouting to be heard over the screams from the rides overhead. He looked good, the relaxed clothes and cheerful smile giving him a much younger appearance .
Jay nodded, tugging at a paint-smeared t-shirt. "I can't believe there's a fair in town," he said, glaring at the bright lights. "I haven't been to one of these in years ."
"Me, either." The alpha herded them closer to the gate. "Not since that summer ."
Gritting his teeth, Jay held his hand out for the neon green wristband. "What a coincidence ."
Inside, the music and screams were even louder, booths of games set up in a long aisle to funnel the crowd deeper. They were swept along with the flow of traffic, and he used the moment to compose himself. The stuffed animals hanging from the stalls mocked him as he hurried past. Stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, heat coiled in his gut when a warm hand pressed against the small of his back .
Luke guided them to a gap between two of the games, his hand sliding away as soon as they weren't in immediate danger of being swept apart. "I haven't eaten yet, but if you want to go on that spinning top, maybe I'd better wait ."
Jay peered up at the rides, pointedly ignoring the Ferris wheel stationed at the point of pride in the center of the lot. "I don't remember them being so fast," he said, biting his lip .
Laughing, Luke shook his head. "I don't think they were. This is a much bigger fair than we went to, and maybe the technology has improved or something." He grimaced. "I feel old saying that ."
"You sound old," Jay muttered, growling under his breath when Luke knocked their shoulders together. Shoving him back, he squeaked when Luke ruffled his hair. "Lay off, you big jerk," he said, but he couldn’t help the smile that creased his cheeks .
"Make me." Luke stumbled forward a little as someone bumped into him. "Sorry," he said, steadying himself with a hand on Jay's shoulder .
Jay's heart jumped as those gorgeous green eyes dropped to his lips. The moment hung there, and he leaned in as if drawn by a magnet. This was such a bad idea .
"What the...?" Luke jerked back, distracted by something across the way. "You've got to be joking," he said, throwing his hands in the air .
Following his gaze, Jay stared in shock at the ring toss stall. There, hanging right in the center of the prize wall, was a monkey. Not just any monkey, a gorilla with a coconut drink and sunglasses. He wandered closer in a daze. The world really was out to get them .
Up close, he could see that this gorilla was covered in glitter, but it was so close to the stuffed animal that had started this whole mess that he shivered. "That's... That's a crazy coincidence," he said weakly .
Luke shot him a dark look that faded into concern. "Are you okay? We can go if you want. This was a stupid idea ."
It was tempting. Jay couldn't breathe staring at that stupid gorilla. The original had been a casualty of being homeless, one of the few things he'd missed the most. "I'm going to win it," he said .
"These games are rigged." Luke hovered his hand behind Jay's shoulder like he might have to catch him if he fainted from shock .
Jay smiled, his fingers clenching at the memory of soft, fake fur. "I know ."
The guy running the game was watching them, clicking a handful of rings with a bored expression. Jay wandered closer, digging in his pocket, but Luke got there first .
"Two games, please," he said, handing over a crumpled bill .
"These games are rigged," Jay said. He leaned against the counter with one hip, watching Luke test the weight of the rings. He could already tell that Luke wasn't going to get any points, but he looked so determined that Jay didn't have the heart to tell him .
The first ring landed wide, and Luke cursed. Jay had to look away to hide his smile, and the carny gave him a suspicious look. The second ring landed short, and Jay didn't manage to swallow his laugh fast enough, sliding off the end of the booth when Luke knocked him with his hip. Rolling back his sleeve, Luke glared at the bottles in fierce concentration .
Five games later, he gave up with only a handful of cheap, plastic bracelets to show for his efforts .
Jay picked up a set of rings. Rolling them in his hands, he tried to remember the trick to making them land just right. "Stand back and leave this to the professionals," he said, smirking over his shoulder .
"Professionals, huh? Western conference?" Luke asked sarcastically, crossing his arms and pouting .
"Eastern," Jay retorted, twirling a ring around his finger. Just to be a shit, he threw them one after another in quick succession, barely glancing over as they rattled down the neck of the bottles in a perfect row. It was worth it for the way Luke gaped at him .
"How did you do that ?"
"Magic," Jay said with a wink. "I'll take the gorilla, please ."