Pushing the Limits(45)

She clears her throat and looks back up at me. "I'm fine." She nods, reassuring herself more than me.

I check my watch and groan. "I'm sorry I have to leave so early." I wrap  an arm around her and pull her body to mine. "I'll see you later?" I  ask, kissing the top of her head.

"Yeah, of course." She returns a forced smile.

"Don't forget to eat something," I remind her as she walks me to the  door. Before walking out, I tilt her chin and place a soft kiss on her  lips. "Bye, sweetheart."





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ASPEN



Teals and yellows.

Ariel could make me laugh until I was in tears. Our dinners were spent  giggling at the table while our parents narrowed their eyes at us with a  warning. Eventually, they cracked and ended up laughing at her jokes,  too.

The way I paint her is how I saw her on the outside-bright, funny, and  confident. People look at my abstract paintings and see a girl full of  life-a girl, who has her whole life ahead of her, can be anything she  wants, and the freedom to express herself.

After the first time I found her in the bathroom, someone else surfaced  in place of the sister I knew. Ariel wasn't Ariel anymore. She'd  changed, and I couldn't figure out why or what had caused it.

I think that's what kills me the most. Perhaps, had I known, I would've known how to help her.

Those painful thoughts and memories are what inspired my Ariel Rose  Collection. I think about telling Morgan the truth, but I can't help the  fear of it changing how he sees me. They're dark and some are even  creepy. They represent her inner struggle that she hid from the rest of  the world and the sadness that surrounded her-the part she didn't let  anyone else see until it was too late.

When I paint them, I release something from deep inside of myself. I  welcome the bad thoughts, feeling that same sadness and the memories to  fuel that same internal struggle to create something on paper. I give  into the depression and paint those feelings.

I'm not sure how I can explain that to someone, especially him, without  scaring him away. Or maybe it's because when I do, it'll mean they're no  longer just for me anymore. Our memories are sacred and letting someone  else into that part of my life feels more intimate than I'm willing to  share right now.

But the longer I don't tell him, the worse the consequences will be.





I sleep over at Morgan's house Monday night after classes, except  neither of us really sleep, but I sneak out before his niece wakes up  and sees me.

Now I have to go through the whole day of classes and a shift at the  gallery before I can go to his night class. It's going to be hard  keeping a straight face around him now knowing I had my lips wrapped  around his cock less than twenty-four hours before that.

But I'm a professional.

I can do this, I tell myself.         

     



 

The moment he steps into the classroom, I feel my cheeks heat. I'd hoped  chatting with Ellie beforehand would help distract me, but my body  shivered the moment I saw him.

Perhaps I can't.

I lower my head and bite my lip to keep the stupid grin off my face, but  it doesn't work. The corner of my lips tilt up as he walks in all  teacher-like-briefcase in hand, crisp button-up shirt tucked into his  dark dress pants. He barely flinches as he sets his briefcase down on  the desk and looks out at all of us.

"Evening, everyone." They all straighten up in their seats and greet him  back. I avoid making eye contact with him but find it hard to not be  drawn by his deep voice and bright eyes. The sexual charge between us is  so strong, I'm almost certain everyone in the room can feel it. But  they go on as usual, grabbing their supplies and back to their projects.  Next week is spring break, so we have the rest of this week to finish  our assignments before we have a week off.

About half way through class, Ellie leans over and grabs my attention.  "So I forgot to ask, how the hell did you end up standing naked for the  life drawing workshop? One second you were sitting next to me, clothed, I  might add-" She waggles her brows. "And the next, you were in the  front, buck ass naked."

I cringe knowing how many people saw me naked the other night. I hadn't  had much time to think it through, but I don't regret it either. Ms.  Jones needed me, and I'd do anything for her after how much she's done  for me.

"The model got sick after the first set and needed a replacement. My  boss needed a fill-in, and I volunteered." I shrug it off as if it's no  big deal.

"Was it awkward? All those people just staring at you?"

"They weren't staring," I correct. "They were drawing me. There's a difference."

She snorts. "Hardly. But if you say so."

She gets back to her painting, but I notice every few minutes, she  glances over at me and furrows her brows. "What?" I finally ask, tilting  my head and lowering my brush. "You want a second viewing or something?  A personal session maybe?" I tease.

She laughs quietly and shakes her head. "Nah, the first show was good  enough to last me a while. However, I just figured out why you've been  acting so weird."

"I have not," I defend.

"You're more timid than usual, and every time Professor Hampton walks  around us, you blush and lower your head like a cowering animal."

"I do not."

She smirks. "He saw you naked," she clarifies. "I'm sure he barely  remembers the first class," she states, reminding me of my and Morgan's  first interaction.

A small smile slips from my lips, and I choke out a cough to cover up a  laugh. "Well, how'd you feel if one of your professors saw you and  stared at you for an hour?"

"I thought they weren't staring?" she quips, arching a brow. "Plus, if  it's a professor as hot as him, then I'd feel aroused, sweaty like my  loins were on fire and he was the only one capable of putting them out."

"Oh God. I just threw up in my mouth." I snort. I lower my head even  more, embarrassed at how she's talking about him. I know it's not a  secret how good looking he is, but he's so much more than that to me. He  always has been.

I start to notice students nearby are looking at us. I give Ellie a side-glance that tells her she needs to keep it down.

"Sorry," she whispers with a devilish smile.

We manage to get through class without any more outbursts of laughter. I  purposely pack my things away slowly, waiting for the rest of the  students to file out. Ellie stands around waiting for me, but I find an  excuse to get rid of her.

"Oh, I have to ask him something real quick. I'll catch up with you."

"I don't mind waiting. My ex-boyfriend and roommate finally moved out,  giving me the freedom to basically have no life at all." Her lips purse  together, and I can see she's still struggling with the breakup. She  found him in bed with her roommate, Rachel, and acted as if she was  supposed to join their little party. She was devastated and has now been  covering up her feelings about it since.

I nod instead of arguing. "It's okay. I'll ask him later. It's no big deal."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll walk out with you." I pull my bag over my shoulder, and we head out down the hallway.

I ask her about her ex-boyfriend, Chad, and if she wants to talk about  it. She rambles on about how she gave him all her best years. She'd been  hoping they'd be engaged soon and planning a wedding for after  graduation.         

     



 

"You're too young to want to be tied down," I say. "You have plenty of great years ahead of you."

"I'm an art student who spends my nights painting and reading. When I'm  not at work, I'm studying or crying over fictional men who'll never  appear in real life."

"What you need is a girl's night," I declare. "I have a couple friends  who'd love to go out if you're interested. Maybe this weekend?"

She shrugs, her eyes low to the ground. "Sure, maybe. Can I bring my friends, Kindle and Chocolate, with?"

I shove my shoulder into hers and laugh. "No. You'll have to break the  news to them that they have to stay home and keep your bed warm for you  instead."

She finally cracks a smile. "All right, fine. I guess I can manage one night out."

"Trust me. Kendall and Zoe are my sole reason for getting through this past year. You'll love them," I reassure.

As soon as we walk out, I pretend to have left something back in the  room. I tell her I'll chat with her Thursday about this weekend and say  my goodbyes. It's my chance to quickly head back in and see Morgan.

The hallway has already cleared out. Most of the students bail as  quickly as they can after night classes. I don't expect to see anyone,  but as soon as I walk past a dark room, a hand grabs me from behind and  covers my mouth, pulling me back against their chest and into the empty  room.

I'm ready to scream and elbow punch whoever it is when I hear Morgan's voice in my ear. "It's just me."