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Love Stung (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 5)

Page 5

by Brooke St. James


  I stared at him with narrowed eyes, telling him he should realize what a ridiculous statement that was, and he smiled at me.

  "Fair enough, bad idea," he said.

  "Plus, Ethan will be here in a little while," I said.

  My sister hadn't been with Ethan all that long, but I felt like his presence in Isabel's life was a point in my favor and should be mentioned. "I know, you mentioned him a second ago. I like Ethan. I'm glad he's around."

  "But thank you," I said. "Thank you for noticing, and for being willing to stay over here. She seems to really like you."

  "I'm sorry there was no way to really offer to hang out with her without offending you."

  I smiled. "No, you were right to say something. She seems to be pretty adamant about getting you to stay. I'm too tired and out of it to be offended, anyway."

  "Are you gonna quit that job?" he asked.

  I thought about how I should respond. "The short answer is 'yes'," I said. "I just don't know how or when."

  "It's none of my business," Drake said. "But for what it's worth, I don't like that guy."

  I smiled. "Get in line."

  We stared at each other for a few seconds, both knowing we were saying goodbye.

  "As for offering to hang out with Isabel…" I said. "We laughed about me leaving you two alone, but I would have trusted you, just so you know. I can tell you don't mean her any harm."

  "Good," he said. "So, let me do it. You go take a shower, or paint your toenails, or call your boss and quit. Go take a minute for yourself. I have a couple of hours to spare. Let me take Isabel out for some ice cream or something."

  I was honestly a bit taken aback by his willingness. "I don’t mean to be skeptical, but I don’t understand what you stand to gain here."

  "Sometimes people do things without standing to gain anything," he said.

  "Not usually."

  "Well, I'm sure I stand to gain something," he said with a shrug. "Ice cream in my belly for one."

  I stared at him. He was too handsome, and I was so overwhelmed from having Isabel at work with me and juggling the drama with J.R. I couldn't think straight.

  "There's a pastry shop on the corner," I said. "I'd really love a shower, and I know Isabel would be thrilled to—"

  "Thank you," he said. "I hated leaving her when I didn't have anything going on for the next few hours." He smiled as if he was actually relieved about staying. It truly seemed like he wanted to continue hanging out with Isabel, and that made my heart happy.

  "Drake," I said softly.

  He looked at me, waiting for me to continue.

  "Thank you."

  Macy and Ethan were already gone by the time Drake and Isabel got back to the apartment. She and my parents were the only ones I let watch Isabel, and she couldn’t believe I had let her go with Drake. She confirmed that Isabel would be fine and that I was right in trusting Drake, but she mentioned more than once that she was surprised I had done it.

  I was glad I did because it gave Macy and I some time to talk about J.R. and the fact that things came to somewhat of a head with us after she and Drake left earlier. In our conversation, Macy assured me that he was a jerk and I was a victim, and all that good stuff, but I couldn’t shake the regretful feeling I had on account of my on inability to keep it from happening in the first place. I smiled and acted like I agreed with everything she was saying, but deep down, I still felt guilty and tortured for my role in it, and wished so badly that I could have been stronger.

  Macy didn't seem to judge me, but I definitely judged myself. She asked me if I had noticed Drake at all, and I told her the truth, which was that I was too preoccupied with getting my life straightened out to be able to notice anyone—regardless of how handsome and sweet he was. We joked about Drake being tall, dark, and dangerously handsome, and I laughed about misjudging him based on the fact that he was a photographer.

  I mentioned Isabel's infatuation with him, but I downplayed it considerably. I didn't tell Macy she cried when he started to leave. There was a lot I left out, actually. I was sick with regret from everything I had let happen with J.R., so I was distractible and had the tendency to lose focus.

  Ethan came to pick Macy up, and before I knew it, they were gone, and I was alone in the apartment. I had about fifteen minutes to myself before Drake and Isabel came back. I had just finished putting some dishes in the dishwasher when they walked inside.

  "Dwake bought you two pieces of chocolate cake!" Isabel announced proudly.

  Drake was holding her, and she was holding the white box.

  "One-and-a-half," Drake said, shooting me a look of regret. "I might have taken a little off the corner of one of them before we left."

  Isabel giggled. Drake set her to her feet, and I watched as she ran across the room, headed toward me. She stopped in front of me and held up the box, offering it to me with a huge smile.

  "Why, thank you," I said.

  She squealed with delight at being the barer of such a nice treat, and ran off to the living room where she twirled around. I peeked inside the box, and sure enough, there were one-and-a-half pieces of chocolate cake. I grinned as I glanced at Drake.

  "I'm sorry for eating that."

  I shrugged. "Even one piece was more than I expected," I said. "As far as I'm concerned, you brought me one and gave me half of yours."

  "Yeah… that's what I did," he said, obviously lying. "I did not order a big slice of pie and eat it with your daughter before I ate half of that chocolate cake in one bite."

  "Good," I said, smiling. "Because that would be totally unacceptable." I took a fork out of the drawer and used it to eat a bite of cake—the slice he'd already eaten from. I made an appreciative noise as I chewed. "Oh man, thank you so much," I said, putting the box into the fridge as I finished swallowing. "That's my favorite."

  "That's what Isabel said. That's why I had to try it."

  I started to wipe the countertop, but Drake was casually standing in my kitchen watching me, so I changed my mind about the mindless busywork and opted to just stand there next to him.

  "Thank you for hanging out with her," I said with quiet sincerity. "I thought about what you were saying, and I know you were right about it. I need to get back home to let her see more of my dad."

  "It's none of my business, really. I just wanted to say anything to get you to let me stay. It was breaking my heart to see her cry."

  "Well, you should sneak out, then."

  "You mean leave without saying goodbye?" he asked, looking at me like I had lost my mind.

  I nodded. "I can't promise she won't cry again," I said. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't expecting her to do it the first time. It might be easier if I just tell her you had to leave."

  "Yeah, that's not really an option," he said. He smiled and waved in such a way that I knew Isabel was walking into the room and looking right at him. "Besides, I wasn't planning on leaving. Isabel said you guys might want to come with me tonight. I was telling her about this little party I'm going to, and she said you both love parties."

  I let out a little laugh. "I bet she did."

  Chapter 7

  "I don't know how in the world you talked me into this, little girl." I stared down at Isabel nervously as we walked into Drake's apartment building later that evening.

  The party happened to be in the same apartment building where he lived, so Isabel and I said we would meet Drake at his place. His apartment was on the sixth floor, and I held Isabel's hand as we got off of the elevator in search of his door. We would have never come, but Drake assured me we would be doing him a favor, saying he'd be happy for the excuse to leave after he had made an appearance. I put up a little fight, but it wasn't much of one. He was either gorgeous or persuasive, and I was either weak or smitten—there was probably a little mix of all of those things in play. Isabel didn't help much, either. She was all Drake all the time.

  To make a long story short, I had somehow agreed to go to a birthday party even
though I did not have that on my agenda for the evening. I told Drake we could only hang out for an hour or so since I had Isabel on a strict routine, and he said that would be perfect.

  He told me it was a casual birthday party for one of his friends. I dressed both Isabel and myself in jeans and white shirts. I didn't make a ton of money, but I liked fashion and had collected a few nice things over the years. The white shirt I had on was loose fitting and comfortable, but nicely made. It was one of my favorite shirts, and the fact that I had one almost just like it for Isabel made it even more fun.

  I strategically rolled my loose curls into a messy bun right on top of my head, and pulled down little pieces to frame my face. Isabel asked me to style her hair like mine, and I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't want to look too much alike, so I did it. Her hair was a little lighter than mine and she was about one-fifth my size, but otherwise we were completely twins. If I had a cast on my arm, we would have been identical. She looked up at me and smiled as we walked toward his door. I could tell she was tired, and honestly, I was too, but it felt nice to get dressed up and go somewhere for a change.

  I stopped when we came to the door that said 612. "Six-twelve," I said. I stood in front of it for a few seconds before glancing down at Isabel. She just smiled at me like she expected me to handle the situation and knock on the door. I reached out to tap it a few times. Within seconds, the door opened. Drake was standing on the other side of it, and my heart melted as I took him in. He looked breathtakingly amazing, but the problem was that he had on jeans and a white shirt, exactly the same as Isabel and me.

  "Are we really all wearing this?" I asked. He had dark hair and eyes, and the white shirt made him appear even darker and more mysterious. I looked at clothing for a living, so I was instantly able to appreciate the quality of his shirt. I stared at the seams at the collar for a few seconds simply because I couldn’t bear to look into his eyes.

  "I'll change so I don't cramp your style," he said. He bent to pick up Isabel, who held her hands up with a huge smile on her face. "You are the two loveliest ladies I have ever seen in my whole life," Drake said. He was pretending to say it only loud enough for Isabel, but he knew I was able to hear him.

  "My mom put my haiw in a bun, like hews," Isabel said. She reached up to touch the neatly rolled mass of curls, which I had placed high on her head.

  "Your hair looks so beautiful."

  Isabel put her hands on her cheeks and blinked at him, giving him the absolute prettiest eyes she could make. This caused Drake to stare straight at me with wide eyes, asking if I was seeing what he was seeing.

  I laughed and gently pinched Isabel's rear end as I came in the door. "You big ham," I said, causing her to giggle. I followed Drake into his apartment, which was open and roomy with tons of character. It was masculine and everything, but I was surprised by how intentionally decorated it was.

  "This looks like something out of a magazine," I said. "Did you buy all this stuff?"

  "I used to use it as my studio. I took pictures out here and in the extra bedroom before I got my studio space. I have a friend from school who's a stylist. She helps me with the furniture and props at the studio, too. Her name is Natalie. Your sister knows her." Drake set Isabel to her feet, and she ran ahead of us, making a lap in the living room, and touching almost every available surface—couches, coffee table, end tables, chair. She was humming as she did it, and I smiled at seeing her in such a good mood.

  Within five minutes, Drake had offered us drinks and changed into a different shirt—a light blue one that looked to be made by the same designer as the white one. I could tell by the tiny little tag on the collar. I caught myself looking at his clothes, not because I cared what he was wearing, but because it was difficult to look at his face without feeling drawn toward him. Drake made me realize why people used the term attractive. I had never said or even thought of that word before, but it was attraction I felt to him every time I looked at his face. His mouth was mesmerizing, both his top and bottom lips were full and perfectly shaped. We were standing in his living room and I was staring at the way his dark facial hair framed his lips when he smiled.

  "Your place is really nice," I said, looking around.

  "Thank you. I'm glad you're here. Are you ready to head upstairs?"

  I shrugged. "As I'll ever be, I guess."

  Rose was the nicest lady you'd ever want to meet. It was her 60th birthday, and her apartment was full of friends and family. Somewhere between twenty and thirty people were there. Rose was a distant relative of Drake's (his dad's second or third cousin). She had looked out for Drake since he moved to New York years ago. She had been the one to tell him when there was an apartment for rent in her building, and that was how he had ended up there.

  Everyone at the party knew of Drake's success as a photographer, so they were all anxious to catch up with him and ask him questions. Rose was a fan of his work and had collected a lot of the magazines and publications with his pictures. People at the party passed them around. They enjoyed looking at them and asking Drake questions, and it was really interesting to hear him talk about his job. He was somehow confident and humble at the same time, and I enjoyed watching him interact with everyone.

  There were a few other kids at the party, so Isabel made a few friends. They found a spot in the corner of the living room to play with some toys while I walked around with Drake, talking to Rose's family.

  We tried to leave after about an hour, but Rose insisted that we stay for her to blow out the candles on her birthday cake. It was nine-thirty by the time she did that, so we thanked them for having us and took our slices of cake for the road. It was the second set of chocolate cake that would be coming into my apartment that day. Rose's daughter had wrapped our cake on a paper plate with plastic wrap, and I held it in front of my chest while we rode the elevator down to Drake's apartment.

  "That was fun," I said. I glanced at Drake. "Thanks for inviting us."

  "Thanks for coming," he said. "I'm really glad you did."

  "Me too, but I'm tiwed," Isabel said.

  Her voice was weak and hoarse, and I balanced the plate in one hand so that I could reach down and pat her back. She leaned against my leg, closing her eyes like she might fall asleep right there in the elevator.

  "Hang in there little princess. Maybe you can take a nap when we get in the cab."

  I looked at Drake and then at the switchboard of the elevator, which clearly said it was taking us back to the sixth floor—to his apartment. I reached out and pressed the button that had a number one on it, and I smiled at him. "It's late. We might as well get on the road since she's so tired."

  Drake reached out and pushed the number six again even though it was already pushed. I gave him a questioning glance.

  "I was thinking just the opposite," he said. He whispered, but I knew Isabel could hear. She didn't care what we were saying, anyway. It was past her bedtime, and I could feel her leaning heavily on my leg. "I thought you could just get some rest at my place. I have an extra bedroom. It's got it's own bath. I won't even know you guys are in there."

  I gave him an incredulous glance, and he smiled and gestured at Isabel. "I knew you'd think I was crazy for asking, but I really wouldn't even know you're there if you wanted to crash in my extra bedroom. I just hate to think about you dragging her through the city when she's tired like that."

  "Thank you, but we can't," I said. "It's really sweet, and I'm tired, but we've got to be going home."

  Drake gave me a sweet, reluctant grin just as the door opened on the sixth floor. I looked at him, expecting him to say goodbye and step off. "Can I at least make sure you get back to your apartment?"

  I smiled. "I can't let you do that, but you can ride the elevator with us to the lobby if you want."

  "Why won't you let me see you home?"

  "Because that would take you forever. I don't want you to have to do that. We're fine taking a cab."

  "How about I pay for
your cab, and I come with you?"

  I smiled. I knew he could pay for our cab and still not ride with us, but the truth was that I wanted him to.

  "Please," he added.

  "I'm not going to make you beg," I said after a few seconds.

  Drake had been holding the elevator door, but he let it close as soon as I said that. As we rode to the lobby, Drake handed me the wrapped plate that Rose had sent with him so that he could pick up Isabel. She laid her head on his shoulder and that's how we walked out of the building—me holding two plates stacked on top of each other, and Drake carrying a sleepy Isabel.

  Drake spoke to the doorman on our way out, but he kept it brief. I gave him one last chance to change his mind about riding home with us, but he insisted that he wanted to come. I climbed into the cab first, then Isabel, and then Drake, so she was situated between us in the backseat. We strapped her into the middle seatbelt, but she mostly rested her head on Drake. I was used to her doing that to me, and it gave me an odd feeling seeing her snuggling up to Drake so easily. I was happy for her and scared for her in equal parts—happy because she seemed so relaxed and comfortable, and scared because I didn't want to see her fall in love and get her heart broken. I knew we were both in trouble with Drake, but I decided not to warn her of the eminent dangers. I would let Isabel enjoy an evening with a male figure in her life without feeling the need to tell her not to be upset when he wasn't around anymore. We had only been in the cab for about five minutes when Isabel started breathing through her mouth in a way that made it obvious she was sleeping. I glanced at Drake who smiled at me.

  "She's really precious," he said.

  "Thank you," I said. I smiled and gave him a long blink, showing him how tired I was. "We had fun tonight. Thanks for having us."

  "I had a sister," he said, completely changing the subject. "She was two years younger than me. She passed away when we were in high school."

  "I'm so sorry," I said. "I hate to hear that."

  "Thank you. I'm sorry too. It was a car accident. She was with a bunch of people who were drinking and driving." He paused, but I knew he was going to continue, so I just sat there quietly. "I knew she was in danger," he said. "I knew it, and I didn't do everything I could to stop her."

 

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