Chapter Nineteen
When my eyes open in the morning, I stretch gloriously as I stare at the bare, white walls of the now familiar room. I wipe the sleep and remnants of last night’s mascara from my eyes.
There’s no doubt I’m rocking sex hair this morning, I realize, as I attempt to run my fingers through my knotted, frizzy locks.
“Morning,” a groggy voice whispers as lips find my neck and start kissing me. A smile comes to my face.
“Hey,” I say, turning to see Jesse right next to me, his head actually on my pillow, his bare skin against mine.
Normally, I’d worry about morning breath. I’d feel like I should leap out of bed and start tackling a million to-do lists. Ordinarily, mornings lounging in bed with naked men aren’t my thing.
But looking at his body as he rolls to his side and props his head up with a hand, I think maybe I could get used to this.
We look at each other for a long moment.
“Breakfast?” he finally asks, and I nod quietly.
“Shower first?” I ask. A grin spreads on his face.
“I think that’s a great idea.”
I follow Jesse unabashedly into his shower, stepping over a snoring Jake on the way. The shower takes a little longer than normal, and our breakfast is delayed. I try not to analyze it like I tend to do. I try not to worry about the what-ifs and the hows and the logistics.
Instead, I try to let my heart lead the way, my now patched-up heart, and think about how even though love can hurt, sometimes it can just feel so damn good.
***
Wet hair dripping down my back, I walk hand in hand with Jesse to a nearby diner for breakfast. Our conversation is as languid as our pace—we’re both basking in an easiness that has opened up from giving in. Love isn’t about sex, that’s for sure. But sex with Jesse has made me realize just how much I wanted this and just how much I want to be with him.
As we order two humungous omelets and rounds of coffee, I check my phone for the first time.
There’s a text from Jodie full of emoticons that, when paired together, seem suggestive. I smile and shake my head.
There are also two voice mails from numbers I don’t recognize. A little worried something is wrong, I put the phone to my ear.
When I hear the words of the message, I look across the table at Jesse, confused and stunned.
The second voice mail is somewhat similar to the first but from a different number. I slowly, quietly exit out of my voice mail and put my phone on the table.
“What’s wrong?” Jesse asks.
“I think you might have some explaining to do.”
A grin spreads on Jesse’s face. “Did you get some calls for painting?” His eyes light up devilishly.
“Yes. The strangest thing happened. Two random people called and said they’d got my number from my business card and want to know if they could hire me for some work. You wouldn’t know anything about this business card, would you? Because last I checked, I don’t have a business card.”
Jesse smirks and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls a bright teal card from the front of it and slides it across the table.
I see my business card for the first time.
Avery Johannas, Artist
Specializes in murals, landscapes, and canvas painting
Call for a price quote
In the corner of the card is a lily, the same one gracing my shoulder. I am speechless and confused. I’m amazed that Jesse went through all this work for me. I’m a little embarrassed to see the word “artist” by my name, and overwhelmed at the thought people actually want to book me.
I’m also quite impressed by how good the card looks.
“Are you mad?” Jesse asks, seeming to consider the prospect for the first time.
I hesitate, looking up at him. “No. I’m just… amazed. People actually want to hire me.”
“Of course they do. You’re awesome. I don’t know why you’re so shocked. I’ve been having people rave about your mural all week, and it wasn’t even finished. I know I may have overstepped with the business card thing, but Avery, I see how you light up when you’re working. I can feel your passion for it from across the room. I also know you’re not confident in your abilities. I felt like you just needed a little shove in the right direction.”
I flip the card over and over between my fingers, considering his words. I think about how much I loved painting that mural, about how good it’s felt to explore something that never felt like a possibility. I think about how amazing it would be to follow this dream.
But a tiny voice in my head also tells me this is ludicrous. I hear my parents’ words telling me that art isn’t a real career. I hear Chris’s laughter when I once told him I thought it would be fun to be a painter. I hear all the “I can’ts” and all the reasons this is nuts.
Looking across the table, however, at those green eyes looking back at me with such a resounding faith, I shove the second set of thoughts aside. Across the table is a man who believes in me enough to make me a business card, who trusted me with his tattoo parlor walls.
There’s a man who, despite past hurts, has trusted me with his heart.
I decide that if he believes I can do it, I can trust in his faith.
So instead of answering him, I pick my phone back up, call the bakery and the doctor’s office that left messages, and book my first two jobs as an artist. Who knows where it will all go, but like my relationship with Jesse, it’s time I find out.