Before It's Love

by Michelle Pennington

  A few seconds later, though, Lauren looked over my shoulder and gasped. Turning my head, I saw Nick and Renee dancing behind us. This wasn’t shocking in and of itself. It was the fact that they were dancing closer than we had dared. Both his hands were at her hips and her arms were flung around his neck.

  Immediately, my heart froze. I didn’t know what emotion to concentrate on as they vacillated between worry for Lauren’s feelings, anger at Nick, and hurt that Lauren still cared about him. And the last one was stupid, but definitely the most intense. I clenched my jaw together to keep from blurting out the words that wanted to blast out of me.

  But then Lauren laughed. She laughed.

  “What?” I asked, completely lost.

  “That’s so convenient,” she said, chuckling again.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Will you take me home?”

  How did this girl always keep my brains scrambled? But I didn’t hesitate before nodding.

  Just like that night we’d taken a walk, our hands brushed together between us and I longed to grab her fingers and thread them between mine. Instead, I held open the door and stood aside for her to pass in front of me.

  “Do you have anything you need to get first?” I asked belatedly. “A purse or a jacket?”

  She shook her head no and walked beside me to my truck, her fingers busy texting somebody. “I told Nick I didn’t feel good and got a ride home.”

  “Is that what’s going on? Are you sick?”

  “No, I just don’t want to be there anymore.” She stopped and turned toward me. “But maybe you do. I’m sorry. Did you want to stay?”

  I opened my truck door and waited for her to climb in. Before I shut the door, I said, “You know why I came.”

  By the time I walked around to my seat and started the car, she was staring out the truck window. I glanced at her often as I was driving, willing her to look back at me so I could gauge her mood, but she didn’t.

  “You know I’m dying of curiosity,” I said.

  She finally glanced at me, but with her eyes shielded by her lashes. “I know, but I still can’t say what you want to hear. It’s probably best I don’t say anything.”

  “Are you breaking up with Nick?”

  She looked back out the window. “Yes. But please don’t expect this to change anything between us.”

  A surge of something that might have been anger tamped down the hope that had dared raise its head. “Why not?”

  She sighed. The whole long breath was full of regret and frustration. “Please don’t make me talk anymore tonight. I feel all jumbled up inside and all I want to do is take a long shower and have a good cry and figure things out in the morning.”

  “So we’ll talk tomorrow?”

  I pulled into the driveway of her house and she reached down to unfasten her seatbelt. It retracted and she leaned toward me. “Jake, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Can you keep being my friend for a while longer?”

  “How much longer?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  Closing my eyes in frustration, I said, “You know that’s going to be hard, right?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “For me too. Good night, Jake.” She opened the door and slid out before I made it out of the truck and around to her door.

  “Call me if you need to talk,” I said, my voice reaching out for her across the dark lawn, but she didn’t answer, just waved as she went inside.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lauren

  Saying goodnight to Jake had hurt. Without even realizing it, all the loyalties of my heart had transferred to him. But as I went to the bathroom with a towel and pajamas, I knew what hurt the most was the look on his face when I kept pushing him away. I sighed and turned on the shower to get hot, hoping to steam away all this tension. I was about to pull off my dress when I heard someone knock on the front door. They must have pounded on it for me to hear it over the shower.

  My stomach knotted as I realized it was probably Nick. I’d ignored all the messages he’d sent me after I’d let him know I was leaving. The last thing I wanted to do was face him tonight, but it would also be a relief to get it over with.

  I left the water running, determined that this wouldn’t take long, and went to open the door. As I laid my hand on the knob, the pounding started again, startling me. Now I was angry.

  I swung the door open but nearly closed it again when I saw the look on his face. Before I could, he stepped inside, jerking the door out of my hands to slam it shut.

  “Nick, we need to…”

  But before I could finish, he grabbed hold of my arms. Guessing his intention, I turned my head away, but he still forced a kiss on my unwilling lips, though he could only reach the side of them.

  “Stop it,” I screamed. “Let go of me.”

  He pushed me away and I stumbled back, barely catching myself from falling. I dropped down on the bottom stair, and covered my face with my hands. “What is wrong with you?”

  “What’s the matter? Don’t want to kiss your boyfriend?”

  “That wasn’t a kiss, Nick, and you know it. You were attacking me.”

  “Whatever. If I was someone else, you’d be all over it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you think I’m an idiot? You’re in love with Jake.”

  I dropped my hands and met his hard eyes. “If that’s what you think, what was this all about?”

  Nick paced around the room, his red face a burning sign of his emotional state. When he responded, he yelled instead of spoke. “I’m reminding you that you’re mine.”

  What would my dad and brothers think of me, cringing on the stairs while a guy yelled and claimed to own me? I stood up and said, “I don’t belong to anybody, especially not you. We’re done.”

  “You’re breaking up with me?”

  He sounded so incredulous that I said, “Oh yeah. And it’s long overdue.”

  In a flash, his face hardened. “That’s for sure. I’ve been wanting to break up with you almost since you moved out here.”

  His words stung—even though I was completely over him. And they didn’t even add up, so he was just striking back at me however he could. I stared at his familiar features, trying to figure out how I had missed this cruel, angry side of him. “Go home, Nick.”

  His top lip rose on one side in a sneer. “No, Lauren, you go home.” Then he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

  I stood frozen in front of the stairs, trying to figure out what had just happened. In a daze, I returned to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, and stepped under the water. The water was only lukewarm after running so long, but I felt too numb to care. Pain simmered just beyond my reach, and telling myself that at least it was over didn’t help.

  Before the dance, Beth had insisted on making me glamorous with all her specialty hair products and lipstick and mascara. I’d felt pretty when she was done, but it was a relief to wash it all away. The makeup, the hairspray, the hurt.

  The hot water ran out before my tears did, so I got out and pulled on my clothes, then flopped on my bed. I stared at the popcorn ceiling until I heard someone come home. I looked at my phone and saw that it was way too early for anyone to be here. A few seconds later, Beth burst into the room.

  When she saw me, she called out, “She looks awful. You’d better get in here.”

  I wondered who she was inviting into my bedroom, then heard Jake say, “What do you mean, she looks awful?” His voice was deep with concern and getting closer as he spoke. He came into my room and looked at me over Beth’s shoulder. “Oh,” he said.

  I groaned. He was the last person I wanted to see me like this, all tear-stained and snotty.

  Beth plopped down on my air mattress, which made me bounce up and down. I laughed a little despite myself. “Don’t pop my bed,” I said. “That’s the last thing I need.”

  “Well why in the world haven’t you gotten a real bed yet?” she
chastised me.

  “Because I like this one. And it’s free.”

  Jake stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. His jaw was tight and his hands gripped his biceps. “Beth called me when she found out Nick left the dance to go find you. What happened?”

  I sighed and sat up. I had a feeling I shouldn’t tell Jake all the details. “We had a fight.” I grabbed a rubber band off my bedside table and twisted my wet hair up into a bun. “I broke up with him.”

  “Good for you. How’d he take it?” Beth asked.

  “Not well. He told me to go back to New Mexico.” I looked up at Beth. “Do you think Natalie will kick me out since I broke up with Nick?”

  “No way!” Beth assured me.

  “And if she does, we’ll help you figure it out. Heck, you could even live with Grams,” Jake said.

  “But she won’t,” Beth said. “And now you won’t have Nick making you miserable anymore.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Jake said. Then he leaned toward me, his eyes intense. He put his hands over mine, squeezing them. “I know you are keeping stuff from me, Lauren, but I’m not going to press you to tell me everything tonight. Call me if you need me. And I mean for anything.”

  “Do you have to leave?”

  His lips pulled up in smile. “Do you want me to kick Beth out of here? I have a few ideas on how to make you feel better.”

  It was so incredibly tempting, like an invitation to paradise. But I couldn’t do that to Natalie. I’d seen her face earlier when she danced with Jake. So, I dug up the strength and shook my head no. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

  He cupped my cheek with his hand. “You’d better.”

  When he left, I touched my still warm cheek and stared after him.

  “Oh, girl,” Beth said.

  I looked over and saw her shaking her head. Before I could say anything, she reached out and pulled me into a hug. Only then did I realize how much I needed one. I relaxed for a moment then withdrew.

  “I just don’t understand any of this. Before I came here, I prayed about it—really hard. And I had a good feeling about it, like this is what I was supposed to do. But it hasn’t even been two months yet, and everything is a disaster.”

  Beth lay back against one of my pillows and said, “Well, you don’t have to figure it out tonight. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened with Nick? I don’t know if I should go after him with a shotgun or send him a sympathy card.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Jake

  As my students worked, I sat at one of the high tables, staring at my phone. More precisely, I stared at the last text I’d gotten from Lauren yesterday. She’d called me as promised, and told me a little more of what happened between her and Nick. I wasn’t surprised she wasn’t telling me everything, and that was fine. I just wanted to know she was okay, which was why I kept checking in with her. If only the few black words on my screen could reassure me.

  As soon as I dismissed my 2D design class, I walked into the drawing studio. Mr. Rossi had the room in near darkness with the only light coming from the skylight overhead and a spotlight trained on the two models on the stand. I walked around the back of the room slowly so I wouldn’t distract anyone. Finally, on the far side of the room, I found Lauren.

  She was so completely focused, I knew there was no danger of her noticing if I watched her work for a while. As an artist, she fascinated me. In my own work, I was comfortable with measurements and precise lines, but Lauren thrived on fluid, wild strokes that somehow landed precisely where they should. It gave her work a sense of life and urgency that mine lacked.

  Glancing from her paper to the models, I saw for the first time how intimate their pose looked from the angle Lauren was drawing them. With the charcoal, she deepened the shadows between their bodies, the contrast sharpening the highlights she created with her kneaded eraser where the light illuminated their skin. She used the play of light and dark to round their arms, legs, and torsos. Her skilled fingers fleshed out the girl’s curves and the taut, square lines of the guy’s muscles. The tilt of his head, the lift of her chin and the curve of his fingers indenting the skin of her bare waist became more than just depictions of human anatomy. She was drawing them as lovers, whether she realized it or not.

  And heaven help me, but as a man in love with this artist, the sensuality of her drawing undid me. Thoughts came unbidden of my deepest, most heartfelt desires. My heart pounded and my breath quickened. Before my thoughts could become as clear as the picture in front of me, I closed my eyes and turned around. After taking a moment to put up some mental walls, I retreated to the far side of the room.

  The overhead light flashed on and Mr. Rossi dropped into his chair. His voice flared with energy and impatience. “Time’s up. Get ‘em on the wall.”

  The room filled with groans and tearing paper. Lauren joined the mob of students tacking their work up on the wall. From the way she bounced as she moved back to study them, she was extremely pleased with herself. I nearly chuckled, but fought it off to keep from drawing attention to myself.

  “Critique,” Mr. Rossi said.

  “The fourth one is the best.”

  “It’s really good.” someone else agreed.

  “Like, whoa, good.”

  Mr. Rossi stood up and walked over to the fourth drawing, which was Lauren’s. “I agree. Lauren, as soon as I saw you put this up, I knew it was the best. It only took a moment’s glance to see it. The proportions are right, your use of chiaroscuro is superb, and the whole drawing is in the same state of completion. But tell me why it works.”

  She tipped her head to the right and considered her drawing. “It works because I got the gesture right. You can feel the movement and weight of their bodies.”

  He slapped his hands together in a loud clap. “Yes. Everybody look at your drawing. If it looks stiff or detached, it’s because you didn’t get a good start. There’s a reason why we start this course with an intense study of gesture drawing. Don’t forget it’s as important now that we’re moving on to long studies. It’s got to be the foundation of everything you do.”

  He took down Brody’s piece from last week and pinned Lauren’s in its place. “I’d be surprised if that comes down the rest of the semester.”

  I grinned as the rest of the students began cleaning up, but Lauren stood still, staring at her picture. As I walked towards her, she took a picture of her drawing with her phone. My phone jingled in my pocket and I laughed as I pulled it out and saw she’d sent the picture to me.

  She turned around, surprised, so I said, “Thanks, but I’ve already seen it.”

  She grinned. “I sent it to my mom too. Did you hear what Mr. Rossi said?”

  “Yes, and I agree with him. I’m impressed.”

  She raised an eyebrow, glanced sideways at her drawing, then back to me. “Do you think it’s too...”

  I laughed. “Sensual? Not for Rossi’s tastes.” A worried frown pulled at her lips so I tried to reassure her. “Relax. There’s nothing inappropriate there, just amazing art.”

  With frantic energy like she didn’t know what to do with her hands, she pressed them to her cheeks, fisted them at her sides, then clasped them on top of her head. “It was so amazing. I just went into this trance and suddenly I was drawing emotion, not just people, you know?”

  I glanced around, seeing that we were alone now, and pulled her hands down from her head. Bending down close to her ear, I asked, “What were you thinking about when you drew them, Lauren?”

  She looked down as her face flushed red, and that was answer enough for me.

  “Never mind,” I said. “It’s great to see you happy. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “I know, but you don’t need to be. It’s finally over.”

  “How is Natalie treating you?”

  “She’s avoiding me like I have leprosy. But I’m not surprised, really. I did just break up with her brother. Talk about awkward.”

  “Yeah,” I
said, knowing it was more than that. I took Lauren’s hand, hoping to somehow communicate my feelings to her in this brief moment we had alone.

  “What’s going on here?”

  We both turned to see Rossi striding towards us.

  “I warned you about this at the beginning of the semester, Cooper,” he said as he strode up to us and crossed his arms over his chest.

  I clenched my jaw to keep from yelling at him.

  Lauren pulled her hand away. “I’m late for Psych class.”

  As she left, I felt terrible. From the look on her face, she was really embarrassed. Seconds later, I heard the main doors crash open. Slowly, I turned back to Rossi.

  “Are we going to have a problem, here?” he asked.

  I reminded myself that he wasn’t my boss, and squared up to him. “No. Especially since it seems she won’t go out with me.”

  “Pressuring her to do so would be even worse.”

  I waved my hand impatiently, brushing away his argument. “There’s so much more to this than what you saw by walking in on us just now. Trust me.”

  “Look, I just don’t want to lose you. You’re a great asset to our program.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I said, “I get that you have a problem with me pursuing Lauren because she’s a student, even though she isn’t my student. But I would never do anything inappropriate.”

  “I certainly hope not, for both your sakes.”

  I started to walk away, but turned back to ask, “What’s the policy on wives?”

  “What?” he asked, clearly confused.

  “If your wife wanted to take art classes, your art classes, would that be all right?”

  “It would certainly be complicated, but there wouldn’t be any rules against it. In fact, faculty spouses don’t have to pay tuition. Why?”