Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2)

by Rose, Kimberly

  Wes parted his lips to answer, and the ringing of his phone burst through the silence. “Motherfucker,” Wes hissed and winced away from me. The instant rush of cool air slicing between us set me back a few steps.

  Wes’ heavy footsteps rattled against the floors. “Yeah?” I cringed at the harshness of his voice when he answered the phone. “Well, where is he?” He ran his hands through his hair and squeezed it between his fingers. “I’ll be there in five,” he snapped and shoved his phone into his back pocket.

  He continued to walk away from me and back toward the mural bending down by a pair of paint cans to grab his keys. He stood up and turned to look at me. “I’m sorry, Capri. I have to go,” he said matter-of-factly. The coolness in his voice chipped away at me. All I could do was nod. “I’ll come by later if I can.”

  “Wes, wait,” I said to him.

  He spun on his heels but continued to backpedal from the gym. “Sorry C, that was the shop. Blue didn’t show today.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” I asked, relieved he wasn’t specifically running from me.

  “No, not now. I just can’t—” He ran his hand through his hair and then stuck his hand out at me. “Like too much. Too much at once, I can’t handle it.” He stopped in the doorway and cracked his knuckles. Oh, so it was me who he was running from. I was too much.

  “I see.” I nodded holding my chin up.

  “Lemme just deal with this.” He put his hands out and patted the air. “Let me see what’s up with Blue.”

  “Of course.” I felt instantly guilty. Blue didn’t go into work, and here I was, concerned about myself. “Go, Wes.” I nodded and his body fell in relief. Then he was gone.

  Clink. “Stop throwing Skittles, Wes.” Brush into paint can.

  Clink. “I mean it.” Standing in front of Wes, he threw Skittles against the brown mural.

  Clink. “Wes!”

  Clink. Eyes on me. “Do you ever wonder, Capri, why I’ve never wanted you?”

  Clink. Skittles thrown, bounced off me. Hallowed echo.

  He stood. My mouth opened, but words didn’t sound.

  He was in front of me. “You’re boring.”

  Clink.

  My eyes popped open and the ceiling above me blurred in the darkness. I was boring. Even dream Capri thought Wes could never want someone like her. Why would he, though? Vibrant, funny, gregarious Wes had no reason to see me.

  I sat up, reached my bedside to grab a hair tie, and wrapped my hair up in a knot. I wasn’t falling back to sleep anytime soon. After Wes had left so abruptly today, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but him.

  I replayed my attempt at kissing him over and over. The scene spun like an endless carousel of humiliation in my head. At a certain moment, he had seemed like he was going to let me kiss him, but that had to have been wishful thinking on my part. Wes wouldn’t kiss me.

  Clink.

  I stilled on my bed and watched my window.

  Clink.

  What the crap was that? I opened my bedside drawer and shuffled my hand around searching for a weapon. My hand stopped on something long and smooth.

  Clink.

  It’d do. I pulled my vibrator from the drawer and tiptoed to the window.

  I peered through but found it hard to see into the darkness. I unclicked the lock and slid the window to the side, then, smack, I was hit in the face with a pebble.

  “Fuck, C? Capri? C, are you okay?”

  “Wes?” I stuck my head out of the window rubbing the spot on my forehead where the pebble had struck. What was Wes doing here, and more importantly, why was he throwing rocks at my window?

  “Where are you?” I asked, squinting into the night with my arm raised in the air defensively.

  “Down here.” I saw his hands wave down next to the hibiscus plant on the side of the house.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I wanted to see you, but you weren’t answering your phone, so I thought I’d just come over and see if you were still up, and…wait…what’s in your hand?” Wes stepped from the shadows and into the light of the moon streaming softly through the trees.

  “Nothing.” I put my hand down quickly.

  “Is that what I think it is?” he asked.

  “A weapon. Yes. I didn’t know it was you out here.”

  “A vibrator?” he asked, and though I couldn’t see the features of his face, I most definitely heard the waggle of his eyebrows. Crap. How could he tell?

  “I have like superhuman vision,” he answered, seeming to read my thoughts. “Plus, its shape is fairly recognizable. Damn, I can’t believe you were going to beat me with a fake cock.”

  “Okay, Wes.”

  “I mean really, what could you do with that? Vibrate me into submission?” He was laughing now.

  “Shut up, Wes. I didn’t know who or what was out here. I grabbed what was closest.”

  I didn’t know why I was even explaining myself. By his obnoxious giggling, it was clear nothing would make this any less hysterical for him.

  “And that was closest?” He stopped suddenly. “Oh,” he said curling the end of the word.

  “What?” I asked still attempting to see him through a squint.

  “You were…” He cleared his throat and became extra fidgety. “You were, um…busy?”

  “What?” Oh God, he thought I was using it? “No! Wes,” I whined out the end of his name. “I was sleeping. Now, what do you want?” Seriously, what was worse than having your dream guy walk out on your kiss? Having him find you waving a vibrator in the night. My life sucked.

  “Hang on. Give me a minute,” Wes said in a strained voice. I sighed and leaned against the window frame. I watched him there from my window, in the dark, appearing nothing less than gorgeous in the moonlight, and felt a sense of nervous excitement fluttering in me. He was here for me. Why was he here?

  After a few seconds, Wes cleared his throat again. “Okay, okay. I’m ready.”

  “What is it, Wes?” I asked afraid to hear the answer.

  “Can you meet me at the front door?” he asked.

  “Okay,” I said and closed the window all the while running the possible reasons for his visit through my mind. I need the keys to SYC. Have you seen my wallet? Did you shut the lights off?

  I crossed my arms over my chest, remembering that I was in my pajamas, which consisted of a thin white T-shirt and no bra. At the door, I tugged my boxers down a little further trying to make them longer than crotch length. Then I unlocked the door and opened it to see Wes standing on the porch.

  He was gorgeous. He had on a black hoodie, and his hair was mussed all over his head. His eyes were wide and focused. The look sent a chill down my back. His chest heaved slightly from under his sweatshirt, and I caught the faintest flare of his nostrils.

  I opened my mouth to question his being here again when he answered first.

  “I forgot something,” he said. Before I could register what was happening, Wes pressed against me in the doorway, cupping my face in his hands with his lips against my lips.

  I lifted my hand to his face. I touched his cheek and felt the prickle of his beard against my fingertips. My hand slid down his face and stopped at the square corner of his jaw. It was real. He was real. This kiss. This kiss was real.

  I pressed my lips more firmly into his in a whimper of relief. Wes pressed back, pushing my mouth open with his effortlessly and sliding his tongue into my mouth. He tasted like the sweetest peppermint. I lifted my arms to Wes’ chest and fisted his hoodie in my hands.

  He kissed me more passionately than any guy had ever kissed me in my life. The tender way he held my face in his hands was no match to the way his lips coveted my own. Our tongues swirled, brushing and stroking within the embrace of our lips. Nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing would ever compare to Wes kissing me for the first time, and nothing could have prepared me for the way this kiss just grounded my soul and uprooted my world.

&nbs
p; Wes pulled away from me softly, placing an extra peck on my swollen lips. I blinked my eyes open with his hoodie still bunched into my hands and caught the softest sweetest smile on his face. I relaxed my hold on him and smiled back. I stood there.

  “Goodnight, Capri,” he said quietly and walked away. I stood there.

  I heard the rumble of his engine come to life and watched the hedges light up under his headlights, and I stood there.

  “C! Go inside and lock the door, baby,” he hollered at me. I nodded my head, went inside, locked the door, and I stood there.

  Drum Solo.

  I pulled my lips into my teeth and pounded out the beat with my pencil in one fist, and my paper towel in the other.

  “Marilyn.” I dropped the pencil onto the floor.

  “Damn, Bluebell. You messed up my flow.” I leaned down still seated on the stool and picked the pencil off the floor.

  “What flow? The only flow I’ve seen from you is once a month when you turn into a little bitch.” Blue opened a drawer in the office desk and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. When the old man didn’t show at the shop the other day, we all were more than worried. I showed up at his place to find him asleep. The geezer had overslept.

  “That wounds me. Deep in my heart,” I said wincing with one hand over my chest.

  “See. Chick.” He motioned to me holding a cig in his hand.

  Louie Blue became my newest neighbor on my thirteenth birthday. That day was just as forgettable as it was memorable. I sat around outside of the house all day feeling out the new digs but not much else.

  Blue rolled up on his Harley at around midnight. He climbed off the bike and stared at me. I stared at him. Then he stared some more. Finally, he nodded and asked if I was new to the place. I nodded back and tossed a rock out into the gravel driveway. He asked how long I’d be staying, and I shrugged. There was no certain answer for that. Then he popped a cigarette into his mouth. I watched his shoulders sag and thought it looked nice. Thought I’d have to try that later. Then he told me to meet him in his garage the next day after school.

  I ran straight to Blue’s carport the next day as soon as the bus dropped me off. He pointed to an old rusted car taking up most of the space and told me if I helped him fix it up, I could have it when I turned sixteen. I was pissed. It was crap. That day though, Blue rescued me. He gave me a purpose and taught me how to take care of myself. I would never be able to thank him enough.

  “What are you up to, old man?” I asked sliding the yellow pencil back into the case with the other colors.

  “Heading out soon,” Blue mumbled around the cigarette that dangled from his mouth. “You should, too.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. Blue knew I wouldn’t go home until he made me.

  He pulled the cigarette back out and nodded toward the desk. “Whatcha workin’ on over there?”

  “Just messin’ around,” I said and shifted in the chair, trying to hide the sketch behind me.

  “Messin’ around, my ass,” he mumbled and walked up to me bringing his thick tobacco scent with him. I relished the smell on a long inhale. I’d quit smoking a few years ago, but, unfortunately, I slipped up every now and again when I was really stressed. Right now, that rich fuckin’ sultry smell was seducing the hell outta me.

  “You’re shittin’ me,” Blue mumbled peeking over my shoulder. “Move outta the way, kid.” He shoved my shoulder moving me himself and picked up the drawing from the desk. “Ya turned her into a fuckin’ kindygarten project.”

  “I colored it in ol’ man. No big deal.” I grabbed the mermaid sketch from his hands and balled it up in my fist before tossing it into the trashcan.

  “You been drawing that same damn grayscale sketch since I’ve known ya, Marilyn,” I smiled at the nickname he’d called me since he found out my last name was Monroe, “and probably been carryin’ that picture of it in yer pocket even longer. If I knew any better, I’d say you’ve gone and met yourself a girl.” He chuckled to himself before turning to walk away.

  “I’ve met lots of girls, Blue,” I said looking at the distorted aquamarine tail out of the corner of my eye.

  “Ah, but none of ‘em have ever been yer mermaid now, have they?” He smirked at me and shoved the cigarette back into his mouth before walking out of the office door. “I’m out for a smoke,” he shouted back at me.

  “Obviously,” I mumbled turning back toward the desk.

  “I heard that, ya pussy pansy.” His voice echoed down the hall.

  “Go smoke, saggy balls,” I yelled back.

  “All those bitches sucked ‘em dry.” I tossed my head back and laughed. Fuckin’ Blue.

  The light from my cell phone on my desk caught my attention. I picked it up, still smiling to myself until I saw the message.

  “Fuck,” I whispered and raked my hands through my hair.

  Capri: Are we painting tomorrow?

  Twenty-four hours ago, I kissed her. Somewhere between the years of looking after her and the hours of thinking about her, I let my guard down. I got so caught up in wanting her that, for those few minutes when I held her face in my hands and got my first taste of her, I forgot how much she scared me.

  I drove the short distance home with my heart racing so quickly it skipped a beat a time or two. It felt like the time I bungee jumped on my eighteenth birthday. I was teetering off a ledge, about to jump. The only thing I could hear was the jackrabbit pace of my pulse, and my vision seemed to narrow and tighten in on a single pool of calm water below me. I wanted so badly to claim the victory of the fall down to the pool, but not knowing if I’d be the one to have the rope snap, sending me in an uncontrolled descent, was terrifying. Capri’s kiss was fuckin’ terrifying.

  I clicked on reply and began to type.

  Me: Of course. I can’t wait to see you.

  I read over the words, and my heart started to freak out again. I deleted them and typed again.

  Me: I want this so bad C, but I’m so fuckin scared.

  I deleted them, the familiar rapid pulse climbing up my veins.

  Me: Tell me we can have this. Tell me I can have you.

  The thumping vibrated through my neck.

  Me: I think I need you.

  Fuck. I deleted the last words and opened one of the desk drawers, shoving my phone deep inside.

  I looked up at the ceiling, gripped my hair between both fisted hands, and waited for the pounding to subside.

  “Hey, Marilyn!” Blue’s voice came from down the hallway just before the slamming of the back door.

  “Yeah, Bluebell?” I yelled back, dropping my arms heavily onto the desk in front of me, leaning into them.

  “I just remembered something,” he said from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him leaning against the doorway. “Whoa, what the hell happened to ya in the last ten minutes, kid? You look like shit.”

  I probably looked like a guy who was trying his hardest not to fall for the girl. “I look like a guy who just rubbed one out,” I said with a lazy smirk on my face.

  “Sick fuck,” he said laughing between wheezy coughs. “Go home, Marilyn. Your last appointment was hours ago.” He tapped on the doorjamb and shuffled off.

  “Hey, what’d you remember?” I shouted at him.

  “I jizzed on your front tire this morning.” His laughter faded behind the jingle of the bells on the front door.

  I caught the echo of my laugh on the walls of the small room and noticed that my pulse had settled back down. Maybe I should get out of here. It’d been a long day. I’d stop by Lennon’s new place, but she said she was heading up to L.A. for a few days. I could always do a surprise pop in on Kensie. That shit was always fun, but she lived with August now. I sure as hell didn’t want to do a surprise pop in on August’s naked ass. I could go home. I wondered what Capri was doing. Fuck. Probably waiting for me to text her back. I opened the side drawer and dug out my phone.

  Me: I have a lot to do at the shop this week. I’ll be in Friday.
>
  I shoved the phone back in the drawer and laid my head on the desk. I was gonna be sick. I thumped my hand blindly on the desk until it found the satellite remote. I peeked up and cranked it up to turn the volume up. The heavy beat took over for my brain, and I sat up, cracking my knuckles.

  Days. It’d been days since Wes kissed me, and I hadn’t heard from him. He most certainly hadn’t heard from me, either. His lame reply to my lame text was all I needed to spend a night painting a troll in his likeness.

  After hours, no days, of keeping my phone with me at all times, I finally gave up any hope of hearing from him, but not before leaping over the thin line that separated available and pathetic. I’d set it on the bathroom counter next to the shower with the volume as high as it would go, I’d carry it in my back pocket with the ringer and vibration on, and I even carried it in the palm of my hand around campus yesterday when I’d worn a dress. Pathetic.

  Now, I was here setting up the paint supplies alone because, what a surprise, he wasn’t here yet, and all I wanted to do was yell at him. I wanted to tell him all the reasons why he had no right to treat me like all of his other casual hook-ups. I wanted to explain to him why I should be different from all those girls. Most of all, I wanted to cry because crap, he’d really hurt me.

  “Good morning, Capri.” I wiped the woe from my face and glared over my shoulder at Wes.

  “Weston,” I said and turned completely around when I saw him holding two coffees. I met him halfway. “A peace offering?” I asked taking the hot cup of goodness from his hand and ignoring the daisy sketched onto the paper cup.

  “Yeah, C, look,” Wes started to apologize, I assumed, given he was capable of such a thing, but I wasn’t interested.

  “Thank you for the latte, but you can shove your offering of peace up your behind.” I marched myself proudly back toward the rollers I’d been putting together and ignored his sexy chuckle.