Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2) (4 page)

“Hey, Jess,” I mumbled still squinting through my sunglasses. Seriously, why was she here?

“What are you up to?” she asked, sticking her foot out to the side along with her hip. Maybe she hurt herself?

“Counting Rhini,” I said noticing that she was standing a little funny.

“Rhini?”

“Plural for Rhinoceros. What’s up? You okay?” Seriously. Why was she here?

“Plural for Rhinoceros?” she mumbled, “Rhinoceros?” She looked at me like I didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Yeah, Jess, I can’t sleep so I’m counting rhini, rinocerum, rhinocerouseseses, whatever. What’s going on?” I pulled my sunglasses off and scrubbed my eyes. The longer I looked at her, the more Capri’s face came to my mind. She was so much prettier than Jess and smarter.

“Maybe I could help you sleep?” Jess slid herself into my doorway like a viper, and I jumped back.

“Whoa.” I held my hands up for her to stop. I was not that kind of guy. Well, not anymore. I couldn’t be if I tried because the only girl I wanted slithering up to me was my best friend’s little sister. Fuuuck. Capri was August’s baby sister.

“I thought we could have a little fun?” She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at me. It was ugly. Chicks should never pout.

“Not tonight.” I took a step forward forcing back out into the hallway. She narrowed her eyes at me, and immediately Capri’s brown eyes invaded my brain. “Not any more nights, actually. No more fun nights,” I clarified.

“Excuse me? Do you have a girlfriend now or something?” She pushed her tits up into the sky like I hadn’t noticed them. I noticed. I just didn’t care.

“Something.” I shrugged because hell if I knew what I had with Capri. I hadn’t thought about the possibility of wanting her to be my girlfriend, though. I’d never had one of those. Was that what I wanted? Whatever it was, I knew for sure I wanted to see if I could have her if she’d let me try.

“I never thought I’d see the day.” She smiled wryly at me.

“You and me both.” I grinned. “Look, if you ever need anything besides fun, let me know.” I meant that too; if she needed me to do things like changing the oil on her car, not a problem. Needed me to move a bookshelf with my giant biceps? I was her man. If she needed a cup of sugar, well, no I didn’t have sugar. She should go see Mrs. Strahan for that. “Except sugar,” I added just so there wasn’t any confusion.

“No sugar. Got it.” She smiled, backing away from my front door. “Thanks, Wes, and if it doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.” She wiggled her fingers at me and went back to her place across the hall. I closed the door and fell back into it. I hadn’t thought about things not working out.

So many things could go wrong. August could definitely get pissed. I knew if I had a sister, I wouldn’t let a guy like me near her. I couldn’t mess up my friendship with August. He was the kind of friend you wanted in your corner for life. We’d been through so much together, and even though he didn’t know everything about me, he was the closest thing I’d ever had to family. The entire Hunter family was.

I would never forget the night of my fifteenth birthday because of that family. I’d let it slip to August earlier at school that we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my house. That night he and his mom picked me up from the trailer and brought me back to their house. I walked into a birthday party. Sure, it was only the Hunter family, but it was the best birthday party I’d ever had. There were streamers, balloons, and even a cake.

Capri had come up to me that night dressed in a white dress with a pointy birthday hat on her head. She held the stack of hats to me so I could pick one, but I took two and pulled them over my head clear down to my chest. Then I sang her my own version of Like a Virgin.

She giggled herself to tears, and even then, my chest swelled when making her smile. Steve, on the other hand, was not impressed with my karaoke skills and glared at me with murder in his eyes. I snapped that cone bra off real quick.

The rest of the night, I hung out with the Hunter family eating pizza and cake and talking about all sorts of shenanigans at school. I think they actually liked me.

For that reason, I felt like I stood a chance at proving to August that I could be good to his sister. If anyone were going to have faith in me, it would be him. I sure as hell was gonna try to show him because I couldn’t sit back and watch what I wanted anymore.

I
didn’t know why I let him get to me like this. Anyone else and I wouldn’t care in the least, but Wes. Nope. When Weston Monroe challenged me in any way, I had the irritating urge to prove him wrong.

The design Wes had drawn out across the entire gym was nothing less than impressive. Abstract waves crossed the wall end to end. Mixed into the swells, he had drawn silhouettes of teens. One was dancing with arms positioned to the sky so it looked like she was carrying a crashing wave in her palms. Another was playing basketball and appeared to be jumping over a tiny set of waves to sink a basket into the sun. A third was sitting down and reading under the arbor of another crashing wave.

I’d stood here for thirty minutes staring at his masterpiece and planning my own attack on it. When I arrived this morning, I was relieved to see he wasn’t here yet so I could see what I was up against before I’d have to face him.

“Well, well, well.” Wes sauntered in wearing a pair of loose sweatpants and a yellowish T-shirt. I myself would never be caught dead in a pair of sweats, but holy jeezus, Wes rocked ‘em. They were just baggy enough that the waistband sat low on his hips, exposing the carved edge of his stomach, and I saw no sign of boxers or briefs. None.
NONE.
Crap, why did I think coming here was a good idea?

As he approached me, my eyes danced around the gym trying to avoid the best damn pair of sweatpants to grace the male form. A cup of coffee suddenly dangled across my line of sight.

I looked at Wes and watched him take a sip of his own cup. “You brought me coffee?” I asked rolling my eyes at the penis doodled on the side in Sharpie. “Nice touch.”

“Skinny soy vanilla latte, no whip, and dick,” he said grinning proudly. I took it from him and sipped a cautious taste of my usual, minus the male anatomy. I’d like to keep that out of my coffee.

“You knew I’d show,” I said smiling at him precariously.

“I hoped.” He shrugged and walked away.

“I sketched it all out last weekend so we can get right to work on the color,” he said from across the gym. His words echoed through the empty space
. Color. Color. Color.

“Okay,” I said taking tentative steps toward him, still unsure if this was the best idea. But I was here. “I’ll start on the waves,” I suggested. “Did you happen to pick up different shades?” I asked.

“Yep.” He smiled pointing to three cans of paint. “Aqua, caribbean, and navy,” he said proudly.

I nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.” His grin spread across his face emphasizing the dimples beneath his short beard, and his eyes danced with excitement. I smiled back at his boyish grin set amidst the manly facial hair. How could I not?

Wes had the most endearing smile of anyone I’d ever met. He hooked me with it the very first day I met him when I was eleven. He and August had a science project they were working on together over the weekend. Wes didn’t have a ride to our house so my mom went to pick him up and bring him back over. I was sitting in my room doodling a picture of a heart with an arrow through it. Above the heart, I’d written the name of our PE coach. He was so cute.

As I was shading in a rounded curve of the heart with my pencil, my door blew open. In strode Wes shoving a hamburger into his mouth and balancing a soda and a notebook in the other hand. When he saw me and realized he’d waltzed into the wrong room, he did the opposite of what I had expected. He walked over and plopped himself on the ground next to me slurping from his cup and dripping hamburger bits all over my masterpiece.

He’d finished eating his hamburger there while watching me shade and contour the image of the heart. Somewhere between chews and slurps, he’d introduced himself, but what I would never forget was how he complimented me on my dedication to my artwork. People had always told me how talented I was, or what a beautiful piece I was working on, but no one had ever commented on my actual dedication to it. I remembered staring at him after that compliment, unsure of why it felt so profound. That was when he grinned. His smile stretched from side to side and each dimple popped out. POW. POW. Upon his exit from my room, I erased my PE coach’s name and wrote WES above the heart.

I was under Wes. His larger frame hovered over me and blocked out nearly all of my synthetic light. “Can you move a little to the left for a minute?” I asked.

“Sure thing,” he said shifting over a step closer to me on the stool he stood on. I was so over using colored paint and opted to paint one of the silhouettes after lunch instead of another wave. It just so happened to be directly below the area Wes had been working on since he came in. “That okay?” he asked smirking down at me. I rolled my eyes.

“You’re a mural hog,” I said turning to dip my brush into the black paint. I swirled it around, working the paint between each bristle.

“There are three other dudes you could be painting. You chose the one closest to me. Not that I’m complaining. I kinda like the view of you under me,” he smirked, and I peered angrily over my shoulder. His response was to hold his brush out in a fist in front of him and crudely hump the air. The roll of my eyes was just beginning when I felt the wet plop of paint land on my shoulder.

“Wes,” I said reaching back to grab my spare towel to wipe it off. “You got paint on me.” I wiped my shoulder when another drop landed on my hand. “Wes!” I shrieked at him. “Watch your brush.” Then another drop fell in a splat directly in my cleavage. I jerked my head up to Wes, who had his back to me and was shaking silently with laughter. “You jerk! You’re doing it on purpose?” I questioned, though clearly he was. I swore, sometimes I felt like I was with a child.

I turned and quickly grabbed my brush from the paint dish. I whipped back around and applied a steady stroke of black paint across Wes’ bare foot. He froze and looked down toward his foot before up at me. “Oh, it’s on now,” he said jumping down from the stool.

I took off running across the gym with my brush in my hand. I didn’t know what he had planned, but I wasn’t staying close enough to find out. “Running isn’t gonna help you.” I heard Wes behind me just before I felt a splatter of paint on my back.

I stiffened and turned around slowly. “You’re ruining my clothes,” I seethed at him trying to hide the smile that wanted to break through.

He shrugged his shoulders flipping the brush in his hand. “It doesn’t look like one of your good outfits so who cares.”

“Are you telling me that I look like crap?” I asked offended that he called me out on my comfy clothes. I’d dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans and a plain white tee topped off with a pair of old converse. Not my most stylish, but I’d planned for them to be covered in paint. Just not like this.

Wes laughed at me, “No, C. I’m not saying that at all. In fact, I think this is my favorite on you.”