Phoenix
There was no way Phoenix was actually going to consider the offer. He’d just turned down Joel on the exhibit, so it made sense that he would turn Ace down, as well. Except he hadn’t nursed a huge crush on Joel in high school.
Phoenix couldn’t believe how much Ace had changed since graduation. He’d grown a bit taller, but more importantly, he’d filled out his body. Where in high school, Ace had been average in the body department, now, he had filled out. His body looked as though it had been sculpted by one of the old masters. He’d also let his hair grow a bit longer. It was such a vibrant red that Phoenix had been baffled as to why Ace would want to keep it clipped close to his scalp. Now that it was longer, it curled around his ears, and Phoenix had to resist the urge to run his fingers through it. It looked soft—like a cocker spaniel’s ear.
Ace had asked him something, and Phoenix scrambled to remember what it was. Right. The interview. He wanted to say no. Having someone watch him work would be too nerve wracking. That much was true. But if it meant being able to spend time with Ace, he might think about it. Not that it would ever lead anywhere. Even if Ace liked guys, he wouldn’t like him. Phoenix knew he was too shy, too socially awkward, too… Aspergic.
To accept his offer would be either very brave or very stupid. Phoenix would have to find out which later.
“One week,” he said finally. “You get one week to come and watch my process. You can watch me work, but you have to do so quietly. I don’t tolerate noise in the studio.”
The only noise he allowed was the occasional humming or white noise if he was feeling too stressed and needed to calm down. Otherwise, there was nothing—no radio, no television, no distractions at all.
Ace nodded, visibly relieved. “Okay. I can do that. No talking while you work, but I will need to interview you at some point.”
Phoenix wasn’t looking forward to that. He detested talking about himself—part of the reason he refused to let Joel host an opening reception for him. But he had agreed to let Ace into his studio, and Ace would need some direct quotes from him for his article. He knew that much.
“Okay,” he said, then swallowed hard. What the hell had he just agreed to?
Part of him wanted to take it all back. To say it was a mistake and Ace should leave. But the smile Ace shot him sent tingles across his skin. He wanted to trace that smile with his fingers. Ace’s lips looked soft. He wondered how they would feel against his own. Immediately, he shut that line of thinking down. It would do no good to fantasize about kissing Ace. Not when there was no chance of it ever happening.
“We’ll start today. Come out back and I’ll show you the studio.”
For years, Phoenix had worked out of his home. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the square footage. He’d used one of the three bedrooms as a studio just fine. But when he had started working on bigger and bigger pieces, he found the space wasn’t enough after all.
His studio now was little more than a portable building that had been painted to match the shutters on his house. It even had a porch that Phoenix used occasionally, when he felt like working outside.
He led Ace into the studio, suddenly very aware of just how much stuff he had crammed into the little space. His table took up much of the room. It wasn’t anything fancy. Just a slab of wood set on a frame. A high bar stool sat in one corner, and there was a small love seat along one wall, when he needed some time away from his project. Lucy was curled up in her bed beside the chair, fast asleep. Some best friend she was.
“Um… this is it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit sheepish. What if Ace hated it? What if he thought the space was too small, or too rustic? There was no air conditioner, just a portable heater for when it got too cold in the winter.
“I think it’s perfect,” Ace said. He seemed to notice Lucy for the first time, because his face lit up. “And who is this lovely pup?”
Lucy blinked up at him, the sun shining in on her golden fur.
“Her name is Lucy. She’s a golden retriever.” He realized a bit too late that Ace probably knew that.
“Well she’s beautiful. How old is she?”
“Three.”
She wasn’t technically a service dog. Phoenix didn’t want to be one of those people who faked having a service dog, especially when there were so many men and women who actually needed them. Lucy was just his companion. And if she happened to provide tactile comfort or help when he had balance issues, that was just an added perk.
Ace laughed. For the most part, Phoenix didn’t like people’s laughter, which sounded worse than he meant it. It was just that they were always too abrasive or too loud or too snort-y. Ace’s laugh was nice, though. Soft and gentle. It sent a delightful shiver through Phoenix, though he didn’t understand why.
He looked over at Ace and allowed himself to stare for a minute. Ace’s hair was somewhere between carrot red and auburn, and a smattering of freckles covered his face and arms. He’d been slightly lanky when they were in high school, but it certainly wasn’t the case now. Phoenix felt his cheeks heat as he imagined the way Ace’s body would feel on top of his—all that muscle weighing him down. It would feel perfect.
“So do you want me to start today?”
He jolted at the question, then blinked. Ace had taken a seat on the sofa and was stroking Lucy’s ears. For the most part, Phoenix hated sharing this space with people. His family were off limits for many reasons, but even Ben and Joel weren’t allowed in. He’d tried, once, but it hadn’t gone well. Somehow Ace looked perfectly at home, though. Like he belonged there.
“I, um…” Phoenix clasped his hands and squeezed his fingers.
There was still a part of him that was incredibly wary of having Ace in his studio. This was his private space. The place he escaped to when the world felt too loud and confusing. But Ace wasn’t loud. He was gentle and nice, at least so far.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to do it today,” Ace said quickly. “I know this probably isn’t what you were looking forward to this afternoon.”
Boy was that right. He hadn’t expected to have any visitors, much less the guy he’d had a thing for in high school. His plan had been to work in peace for a few hours, and having Ace here would certainly throw a wrench in those plans. Even if he didn’t speak, he would still be distracting. Phoenix felt as though he would be watching him, and the thought sent that bug-crawling sensation up his arms again.
“Maybe it would be better if you came back tomorrow,” he admitted, silently cursing himself as he said it.
Ace didn’t seem bothered, though. He smiled and stood, giving Lucy one last pet. “Just as well,” he said. “I’ll try to bring my notebook so I can jot a few things down. If that’s all right.”
Phoenix considered it. The light scratch of pen on paper would only add to the distraction, but he could always tune it out with a bit of white noise. Nothing too overpowering—just some ocean waves or a gentle breeze.
“That’ll be fine,” he said eventually. It would have to be fine. He wanted Ace to come back, for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of, and if it meant dealing with some unexpected disruptions, then he would just have to force through it.
He led Ace back to the front of the house, Lucy trailing beside him. Out front sat Jack Sherridan’s old blue pickup, and Phoenix remembered that the old man had died suddenly six months before.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” he said, then remembered they hadn’t been talking about that at all. “I heard he passed away a few months ago. The truck…”
He gestured, hoping that would convey what he was trying to put into words. That he had seen the truck and it had sparked the thought.
A faint smile flickered across Ace’s lips, then died. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “It seems almost like karma, you know? My dad dying and getting laid off within a couple months of each other. Problem is, I can’t figure out what I did wrong.”
“Maybe you didn’t do anything. Events happen without any thought given to the people they happen to.”
Phoenix had never been one to believe in karma or fate, or even an afterlife. Life happened as it did, with no rhyme or reason.
“Well.” Ace shoved his hands in his pockets, and Phoenix knew he had misspoken.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
Ace brightened slightly. “Yeah, definitely. Tomorrow.”
And if the words sounded like a promise, it was likely just in Phoenix’s head.