Draw Me In (7 page)

You
’
d probably say they were cute, or
come up with some other adjective to describe them that didn
’
t have anything to do at all with
their looks. You
’
d
search out the one thing that held even just a modicum of truth. They were
smart or funny or maybe even outgoing or generous. They had remarkable
qualities and characteristics that were worth noting, and it was a parent
’
s role to do that noting.

But
my dad had always called me a beauty, and after multiple self-portraits, I
’
d finally been able to recognize that
in myself, too. Full, round eyes, brown in color
—
not at all hazel or golden
—
but a deep, rich tone
that on occasion appeared so dark the pupils could hardly be detected in them,
camouflaged within themselves. The cheekbones that curved up to meet them were
almost permanently stained with a peach glow, and even though my lips were
plumper than I liked, they matched in tone with their pink fullness. My hair
had gone through several transitions from blonde to brown, to highlighted and
then ombre
—
often
changing along with my relationships
—
and
I
’
d finally settled on my God-given,
light brown. The strands twisted naturally into spirals at my shoulder blades,
though I often swept them up into a low ponytail or braid.

I
was pretty. That much I could recognize, but words like gorgeous or stunning
were reserved for girls who knew how to take this basic, pretty foundation and
bring it up to the next level. Things like makeup and fashion and nails and
clothing. Knowing how to effectively accentuate what was already there was a
gift I didn
’
t
possess. Which was fine because I was okay with staying in the pretty realm.
That was where I was comfortable, so I settled into that space. And guys had
been attracted to me in the past, so I guessed they thought I was pretty
enough, too.

But
for some reason, all I could think about as I sat back down and started
shadowing in my chocolate eyes, the thick lashes that encased them, and the
slope of my small nose, was that I hoped Leo was one of those guys. He
’
d called me Bella back in Italy. But
that was typical and not something I could really read into. We were in Italy
after all. Guys said things like that there. There was no room for the analysis
of syntax and semantics in just that lone word.

I
knew eyes couldn
’
t
fully speak the way words could, but when ours locked at that moment in the
museum, and again when he recognized me at the coffeehouse, his spoke volumes.
Truth be told, he looked completely captivated. Drawn to me. Which, as I etched
in the lines, varying them in shade and thickness, was the same look I
’
d just unintentionally given my
likeness on the paper in front of me.

Captivated
with the expectant arch of my shaped brow. The slight parting of my lips,
allowing the extra rush of breath to flow in and out, a slip of space. The
deeper redness of my cheeks and the flush that coated my face.

Holy
crap. If this was the glazed expression I now wore, I had to seriously get
things in check before seeing Leo again tomorrow. I could not show up at his
office with his jacket and coffee looking this flustered and utterly hormonal.
Especially since to him, I was probably no more than an errand girl that
occasionally brewed espresso and had creepy fetishes for ancient statues. Wow.
I sounded completely lame, and if this self-portrait was indicative of how I
truly appeared, I looked completely lame, too.

Before
the night was over, I
’
d
started and crumpled at least a dozen self-portraits, finally deciding the blur
of sleep that veiled my eyes was greatly altering my perception of reality,
like looking through a film coating.

At
least that was what I tried to tell myself. But the blatant truth of it was
that every time I thought about Leo, I went into swoon mode, and since I
’
d basically been thinking about him
non-stop, I was in a permanent state of swooning. My expression, and my
drawings, reflected that. I decided to give up.

I
hardly heard the lock turn over a little after one in the morning, but I felt
the gentle tug of my comforter as Ian slipped it up to my shoulders and patted
me softly on the crown of my head, leaning in to sweep his warm lips over my
cheek the way a parent tucks in their child at night.

Ian
was my family and pretty much all I had in this bustling city. I often worried
what life would look like after graduation; if we
’
d go our separate ways or if our
journeys would allow us to continue on the way things were, clocks ticking down
together.

I
knew one thing was certain: I wouldn
’
t
be heading back to North Dakota, no matter how desperate things might get.

My
life was in New York City.

My
best friend. My students. The coffeehouse.

And
Leo.

It
was odd that up until this afternoon, this man hadn
’
t really had a hold on my future, and
to say that he did now was, I realized, totally absurd.

But
there was the embarrassing truth of it all: I couldn
’
t shake the reality that someone I
’
d been completely enthralled with an
ocean away was now living and working just five blocks from my loft.

Maybe
it was a strange twist of fate, if you believed in those sorts of things. Maybe
it was coincidence. Maybe it was karma and I was doomed to live a life of awkward
run-ins with this guy whose beauty bordered on intimidation.

Whatever
it was, I
’
d
take it, because for some reason, I was just glad to have any interaction
possible in any way it came to me.

As
the creak of my bedroom door silenced, I could hear the faint pulse of Ian
’
s feet trail down the hall, and I
rolled onto my stomach, keeping my eyes tightly shut. Maybe tomorrow Leo and I
would have our own, real moment together, but for now all I could do was hope
my dreams would tide me over until that point in time.

They
’
d done a good job with that for the
past eight months. Hopefully they
’
d
do the same for the next eight hours.

CHAPTER
SIX

The
plastic cover rustled against my hip as I wobbled down the street, keeping the
garment bag tucked up under the hollow crook of my armpit. For a moment I
worried that somehow the sweat gathered there would drench the bag and I
’
d end up handing over a suit jacket
that yeah, might have been cleaned, but now reeked of girl BO. Dipping my nose
to my right shoulder, I breathed in a quick whiff and was totally relieved to
have the scent of baby powder fill my nostrils.

Relieved,
that was, until I looked up and locked eyes with him.

“
What the hell?
”
The words unintentionally dropped
from my mouth, along with the plastic cup of coffee that moments before was
gripped tightly between my fingers. Sprays of caramel-colored liquid splattered
across the curb. And across his perfectly pleated, light gray herringbone
pants.

“
Seriously?
”
I groaned, smacking my palm to my
forehead and then dragging it down the length of my face, wishing to wipe this
newest reality away like the transition between scenes in a movie. This couldn
’
t be happening.
“
I
’
ll get those cleaned, too.
”

“
Are you just trying to get my pants
off?
”
A grin overtook Leo
’
s
face.
“
Because
there are other, more effective, ways to do that
—”
he paused like he was waiting to say
my name. I realized I
’
d
never told him it.

“
Julie.
”

“
Julie.
”
He smiled. My name never felt like
anything special, but it was now butter, rich and creamy, as it crooned out of
his sculpted mouth. I liked the way his tongue rolled over the letters.
“
Don
’
t worry about the pants.
”

“
But you
’
ve got a photo-shoot this morning and
now I
’
ve
gone and ruined your slacks and
—”

“
How
’
d you know I have a photo-shoot?
”

Crap.

Was
this where I admitted to him that my roommate and I swapped notes and
information on the guy I
’
d
recently taken to stalking? Was it already time to give up my quirky,
investigative tendencies? Was it time for me to stop asking myself questions
and start giving him answers?

“
Ian Westland. The photographer,
”
I explained, holding out Leo
’
s jacket for him to retrieve so I
could bend down to clean up the coffee mess on the pavement. There were used up
candy wrappers and a fresh cigarette butt still glowing red embers against the
gritty sidewalk. My eyes glided up to his.
“
He
’
s my roommate.
”

“
I see.
”

Double
crap.

Was
that really all he was going to say? No
‘
How
’
d you put the pieces of that
together?
’
or
‘
How
did I come up in conversation?
’
Just a quick acquiescence to the fact that I was probably a loser.

To
avoid having to look him in the eye right away, I took an exaggeratedly long
time picking up that lone cup. While I was down there, I couldn
’
t help but stare at his shoes, the
leather reflective and polished. My fingers itched to reach out and touch them,
just to see if the extra dollar signs attached to their worth could be tangibly
felt. Most guys I knew wore flip-flops or tennis shoes. Even Ian
’
s expensive Nordstrom loafers weren
’
t on the same scale as the ones
planted directly in front of me.

“
Are you staring at my shoes?
”

Did
he really have to call me out on everything today? Couldn
’
t a girl gawk at a near-stranger
’
s feet and go unnoticed?

“
Yes,
”
I admitted on an exasperated breath.
“
They
’
re really gorgeous.
”

“
My face is more so.
”
In a beat, he was down at my level,
his knees bent, crouching tiger style. I prayed I could become some sort of
hidden dragon and somehow slip away undetected, but his eyes locked with mine
and pulled me back to a standing position as he rose up too, like they had a
magnetic force capable of actually controlling the movements of my body.
Positive attracted to negative.

“
Your face is gorgeous,
”
I admitted outright, because it was.
Ain
’
t
gonna lie about that.
“
And
so were your pants, and your shoes. But I seem to have ruined all of that.
”

Leo
draped the cleaner
’
s
bag over his forearm and with the other hand, ran the tips of his fingers
through his cropped hair.
“
Maybe
the pants and the shoes, but you haven
’
t
ruined the face.
”
Holy cannoli, this man was not only irresistible, but incredibly cocky to boot.
Blatant confidence like this wasn
’
t
typically my style, but he owned it, just like he currently owned all of my
attention. It was his, 100%, like I
’
d
just given over the title to my brain, pink slip in hand. There were hundreds
of people crowding the sidewalk around us, and just as many cars and taxis
lining the roadways, but all I could see was him. Like some vortex of sexiness,
he
’
d
completely reeled me in.

“
I don
’
t think there
’
s much that could ruin that face.
”

“
Come back with me to my office for
the shoot, Julie.
”

Hold
up. Did he just invite me to his office? I mean, it wasn
’
t like he was asking me up to his
apartment or anything, and I
’
d
just told him that my own roommate would be the one at his office actually
taking the pictures. But the fact that he even wanted to continue being in my
presence after this third and most embarrassing encounter yet said something
about him.

He
was an idiot.

Figured
the poor guy couldn
’
t
be that gorgeous and actually have all his senses about him. Seriously, if he
were at all in his right mind, he
’
d
go running in the complete opposite direction. Definitely out of the county.
Possibly the city. Maybe even toward the state line.

In
the significantly short time we
’
d
known each other, I
’
d
successfully managed to ruin an entire outfit
’
s worth of clothing, and I
’
d also twice kept him from getting
his daily caffeine dose. I couldn
’
t
see any reason to justify keeping me around longer than absolutely necessary. I
couldn
’
t
see it, which led me to believe it wasn
’
t
there.

I
had to spare this guy, because it was evident he wasn
’
t operating on all cylinders.

“
I can
’
t.
”

Leaving
it at that, I shrugged my shoulders in apology.

“
Well now you
’
ve ruined it.
”
Leo threw two hands into the air
dramatically and almost dropped his dry cleaning with the movement.

“
Ruined what?
”

“
My face.
”
He stepped closer toward me and my
body temperature ticked up a few degrees.
“
Because
now I
’
m
frowning, and that
’
s
never a good look on me.
”

“
Leo.
”
It was the first time I
’
d said his name, and suddenly our
conversation took on a personal energy that it previously lacked. The sound
felt warm on my tongue, like melted chocolate.
“
You could be cross-eyed and
buck-toothed and you
’
d
still be pretty damn fine.
”

“
Are you always this forthright?
”
With a tightened brow, his eyes
delved into mine to search out some answer. I felt the effect of his stare deep
in my stomach as it hitched along with my breath.

“
No. You make me do weird things.
”
That was the honest truth of it all.
Do weird things, say weird things. I usually prided myself on being in control
of my emotions, but they were all across the board in Leo
’
s presence. Who was this man that he
could unravel my brain in one fell swoop and then twist it back up into
something completely useless to me?

“
I picked up on that.
”
His lips tugged into a coy grin. For
Pete
’
s
sake, he needed to stop that. I felt more weird things coming on.
“
If you won
’
t come to the shoot, then at least
come shopping with me for new pants,
”
he practically pleaded. I couldn
’
t
figure out why he would want to spend another disastrous minute with me. And I
couldn
’
t
figure out why he needed help trying on pants. Looked like he got himself into
the ones he was currently wearing totally fine.
“
I think you owe me that.
”

“
I actually owe you an
actual
pair of pants.
”

He
smiled again and laughed.
“
I
’
ll settle for an opinion. I
’
ll take care of the pants.
”

“
I don
’
t think you realize what you
’
re getting yourself into, Leo.
”
I shook my head to warn him. Though
I figured we were safe enough in a store so long as I wasn
’
t holding anything liquid, nothing
about being around him felt at all safe to me. I was doomed to play the fool
again, for sure.

“
I
do
realize what I
’
m
getting myself into. A pair of brand new slacks,
”
he chuckled, dipping his head closer
to mine. His aqua eyes gleamed like crystals.
“
What about you?
”
Our mouths were mere inches apart
and all I
’
d
have to do is pop up onto my tiptoes to mash my lips against his. It took
nearly all of my willpower to keep those feet grounded.

“
I
’
m not getting into your pants,
”
I breathed, all light and airy like
some flouncy seductress. The weird things were playing out in full force and
had apparently hijacked my vocal chords.

“
No, Julie.
”
His mouth was stretched as far as it
could go into a wildly heart-stopping smirk.
“
You
’
re not getting in my pants.
”
Speaking of pants, I was pretty sure
that was what my breath was doing right now.
“
But you are going to help me get
them.
”
He held out an expectant hand for me to take. Cautiously, with the hesitation I
’
d lacked earlier with my words, I
slipped my palm onto his. His hands, though slightly rough at the edges and
knuckles, were smooth to the touch, much like the soft rasp of his enticing
voice, a perfect juxtaposition of tender masculinity. Seriously, was everything
perfect about this man?
“
Come
on. We
’
ve
got some shopping to do.
”