The Proverbial Mr. Universe (27 page)

“I know now what I want the most.”

“What is it you want?” She turned to face him.

“That you shouldn’t have to settle for less than what you have to offer, don’t give in to the drama. My relationship with Chloe was stressful, mentally and emotionally. Love shouldn’t make you feel like that. I mean, sure, every relationship has issues—that’s the reality of it—but it shouldn’t have to make life so dysfunctional. Love should build you up, not tear you apart. And if you are lucky enough to find someone you’re willing to go to Hell and back for … to love like crazy and who loves you the same way…” he glanced at her “…I guess what I’m trying to say without sounding any more like a cornball is that my time with Chloe forced me to realized that I wanted the kind of love you just can’t live without. I want someone that will be there for me in the worst possible moments of my life. Because that’s when it counts. That’s when you know it’s real.”

Olivia broke away from his gaze, fiddling with the label on a bottle of water.

“I don’t think I ever had that. The kind of obsessive, passionate kind of love. I don’t want to sound pessimistic, but personally I don’t think it exists.”

“Just because you haven’t found it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, Olivia. Do you want to know how to find that kind of love? Forget about your head and lead with your heart. After everything I’ve been through, I am willing to risk it all over again … the heartache, the heartbreak. How can you go through life and never dive in? How else are you expecting to find it?”

“Well, I like to proceed with caution for everything in life … at least, I try to.”

He nodded. “I think we all hope that love won’t overlook us, but if you’re too careful, you might miss out on something very special.”

“I wish there was a way, a right way, of knowing you’re not wasting your time with someone. It would save you so much pain and heartache,” she said as someone was trying to get around them.

“Yeah, life would be too easy. You know I came to the conclusion that the people we allow in our lives fall into two categories: they can either be a kick in the fuckin’ gut—a life, lesson or a heavenly blessing.”

“Which one am I, Montgomery?” she asked.

He shot his perfectly soulful eyes at her. “I think you might be a bit of both.”

“I thought you said there was only two categories?” She knitted her brows together.

“Trust me, kid, you’re in a class of your own.” He smiled.

Olivia nudged him playfully, pushing her hair out of her eyes to look at him.

“Do you want to see something cool?”

Before she could even answer, he slid his hand in hers, keeping Olivia close to him as he guided her through the crowd, passing the Monets and the Picassos from one room to another until they came into a dark space. A visual art film played on a screen that made up the whole length of the wall. It was spectacular to the eye, a roller coaster of lights bouncing off the screen onto their faces and bodies. This was not the reason he brought her here. He was almost afraid to break the silence between them, afraid if he said one more thing he might do something impulsive. Now, Nick found himself at a point he couldn’t turn back from. His mind raced a million miles a minute, and he could feel his heart pulsing in his veins. And there, under the glow of the light, she stood beside him, unaware of the fire she started inside him.

He liked the way she looked at him. It gave him a sense of belonging. He had surrendered, and she had no idea. He didn’t know what it was, the light, the loud, beautiful, haunting music, but he just wanted to get lost, tangled, caught up in something with her. It was some rare delight to feel this surge of life, like if he left the room without capturing the moment, he certainly would die.

When he realized he was still holding on to her hand, he pushed her back against the wall in one swift movement. At first she was surprised by his assertiveness, and with a smile her intentions became apparent. Her face was only inches from his, and he found a burdensome confession in her wondrous eyes, a brief affirmation that she’d been burning too.

With his T-shirt crumpled between her fingers, her eyes slowly trailed down his face, stopping at his mouth.

“What about the bet?” she murmured.

At that point it was already too late. He’d lost before it even started. Anything Olivia would have asked him to do, he would have done. Anything she wanted, he would give. And there in the darkness, just like he imagined, his mouth crashed down on hers, allowing the world around them to evaporate.

“C
an I paint you?” Nick whispered as his fingers delicately traced the outline of Olivia’s cheekbone, trailing down to her lips.

His words washed over her like warm water. The rhythm of her heart pounded at a fleeting pace. How could she deny him? It was the most provocative thing anyone had ever asked, to be captured on a canvas like some beautiful creature.

In a very short time, Olivia had come to know the essence of Nick Montgomery. It was clear that Nick’s passion was his art, and how he created it enthralled her. The way he used his left hand, positioning his pencil in an unorthodox manner but naturally flowing across a rough surface. She loved the way his skin creased just above his brow. The lines appeared when all his focus was on the task at hand. How he glanced up, pegging her with his stare which made her feel like the eighth wonder of the world. His eyes, completely devoted to her, slowly studied her features, trailing from one to another like a road map, giving each part of her all of his attention.

In the beginning, there was nothing about Nick she found attractive, nothing about him that would lure her in or make her want him.

Then out of nowhere, she did.

Flat out wanted him.

“Be still, will you?” He laughed.

Olivia kept making funny faces, trying to throw him off as he sketched her features onto the canvas.

“And if I don’t want to?” She never taunted him in this manner before. Since that kiss at the museum a week ago, their relationship had transitioned from friendship to lovers. But to be lovers, they would have to do more than just kissing. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to take it to the next step. She wanted him, that she was sure of. She wanted him to kiss her passionately until they both were breathless.

“What are you going to do about it?” She watched his eyes go from the canvas back to her, an intoxicatingly intense look in his eyes. Without a word he got up from his stool and walked to her, lifting her chin up toward him. He bent down and kissed her tenderly, sliding his hand in her hair. She knew it wouldn’t go any further because Nick wasn’t the kind of guy who moved faster than she was prepared to. He wasn’t Dario.

There was a knock at the door that wouldn’t go away.

“Hold … that thought …” Nick unwillingly pulled away from her.

He staggered towards the front door like he was drunk and it made her laugh. When he returned, he had a package at hand.

Olivia glanced away, her eyes brushing over the canvas leaning up against the wall. She remembered the first time Nick brought her to his studio, how bare it was. Now the room was filled with all sorts of art Nick had created in a short time. All beautifully rich with color, all capable of stirring a magnitude of emotions. She wondered if they would ever see the day of light.

“Hey … um, there was something I meant to ask you.”

“Okay …” Nick shot her a curious look before setting the brown box on his desk, retrieving an X-Acto knife from his drawer and sliding it across the top of the cardboard box.

“A while back …you said you were a washed-up artist. What did you mean by that?”

“Well…” he lowered his eyebrows consciously “…isn’t that self-explanatory?”

“I used to have a career and now I don’t. Hence the washed-up part.”

“But you’re trying to get back into it, right?”

“Well, I have a showing at George’s gallery next year.”

“Why wait till next year? You have all this work done. Have you shown these to anyone yet?”

“Hmmm, not yet. George doesn’t even know I have some work completed.”

She frowned. “Why not? He’s been waiting for you to bring him something.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I’m ready to show him anything. I don’t think they’re that good.”

“You’re messing with me, right?”

He walked back to his stool and sat back down, diverting his eyes to the canvas.

“You never told me why you stopped in the first place.”

He shifted uncomfortably on the stool, putting his arms across his chest. “I guess for the longest time, I felt blocked … as if my air supply had been cut off.”

“How come?” She frowned.

“For many reasons … mostly uninspired I guess. I remember a time when painting was a vital part of my being, like food for my soul.”

“And now?” She smiled, lifting her hands to signify the canvases lining the walls. “I think it’s safe to say you’re over your artist’s block.”

He smiled back. “Maybe I have you to thank.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you had something to do with it.”

“No, I don’t think I had anything to do with it.”

“Of course you did.”

“I believe creativity means to be vulnerable and at the time, you were probably afraid to be. Creating art is a passion, it’s love, and I think along the way something made you retreat within yourself. You armed yourself … that way you would never be vulnerable and get hurt again. But what you don’t realize is by putting on that armor, you closed yourself from feeling things, from everything you love, everything that’s essential to create.” She paused. “Somehow you learned how to remove the armor.”

He looked away. She knew there was so much more to Nick, and he was holding back something from her, something very crucial. Maybe that was one of the reasons she felt she needed to take a step back when it came to her feelings. He had told Olivia a while ago that he had lost his mother last year. She could imagine just that lost alone could have an effect on how someone perceived life, but she didn’t want to bring that up unless he wanted to talk about it.

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“Let all your uncertainty go and get back into that ring. Throw these babies out there and let’s see what happens.” She walked toward him and removed the pencil from his fingers.

“How did you get so smart?” Nick pulled her into his arms, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“From my inspirational guru.”

He rolled his eyes. “Mr. Universe? When I find out who this asshole is, I’m going to pulverize him.”

She laughed. “How do you know it’s not she?”

“I don’t.” He gently tugged her in for a kiss.

Olivia heard her phone buzz from within her purse. “I’m sorry … I need to take this. My dad had a doctor’s appointment today, and I told my mom to call me when she got back,” she murmured between kisses. It took everything in her to break from their kiss.

His arms slipped away, and she rushed to get her phone.

“Hey, Nina…” she looked up at Nick “…uh. Yeah. I’m out … with a friend,” she said, hoping Nick didn’t catch it.

“Yeah, no I didn’t hear anything yet. Can I call you back?” She glanced up at his soulful eyes.

When she walked back to where Nick was sitting, she noticed his demeanor had changed. When he finally looked up at her, she saw the hurt in his eyes.

“How’s your dad?”

“I don’t know. It was my sister. She wanted to know if I heard anything yet.”

He walked back to his desk, removing the tubes of paints from the box he just received.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“What are we doing here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you told your sister about us?”

“I haven’t told anyone about us.” Olivia realized it might not sound good, but she wanted to be honest with him.

“Are you ashamed to be with me?”

“No,” she sputtered. “Look, my family is still hung up on the whole Dario fiasco. And I’m not sure where all this will go. I don’t want to disappoint them any more than I already have.”

“Oh, I get it … because being with me would be a disappointment?” His words were rushed.