The Wright Mistake(8)

And, for the first time in weeks, my fingers itched for my charcoals. I’d thought, when I was younger, that I would be this incredible painter, full of life and color. Then, I’d grown up. I’d realized bright colors were for other people, and shades of gray were more my speed. It wasn’t often I was inspired to pick them up anymore. They brought back too many memories.

“You have that look about you,” Austin said.

I’d been so focused on what the scene below me would look like on paper that I hadn’t even realized he’d been staring at me.

“What look?”

“Like you’re going to draw me like one of your French girls.”

“Ugh! I regret the day I showed you my drawings.”

“Why? You’re an artist.”

“I am not an artist,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s reserved for people who, one, have any talent and, two, are professionals. I sometimes draw on the side when the mood strikes.”

“Like right now?”

“Maybe.”

“I knew it,” he said with triumph. “I thought the sunset would do it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How did you know that?”

“You like beautiful things,” he said, gesturing to himself.

I snorted. What an arrogant jackass!

“Whatever, Austin.”

I turned back to face the sunset. He was kind of right. I did love beautiful things. Colorful sunsets and raw emotions and crashing waves and crinkled eyes from laughter and big heaving clouds. I spent so much of my life away from all those things that, when I could soak them up, I became a sponge.

Like right now.

I bathed in the twilight and reveled in the richness of the moment.

Even if it was with Austin.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, just watching the colors kaleidoscope the sky. It was companionable. I’d forgotten how easy it was to be with him. We were better when we weren’t yelling at each other. It just didn’t happen often.

Austin’s arm swept across my shoulders and gently pulled me into him. I wanted to bite his head off for touching me after just telling him not to, but I didn’t. Sometimes, it was easier. I’d just gone through a breakup. A little comfort, even from someone who drove me up the wall, wasn’t the worst thing.

I guess. Right?

“Jules?”

I gritted my teeth and sighed in frustration. “I said—”

“Right. Fuck. Habits, babe.”

“Why the fuck am I even here you with you?” I asked, straightening again.

His hand snaked up my neck before threading through my long red hair. “You know why.”

“Honestly, no.”

He laughed, as if I were joking. But I wasn’t. Not entirely. My brain was telling me a whole other reason for being here than my body. My body wanted another taste. My brain knew it was a bad idea. Curiosity had won out, but still, this wasn’t smart.

Our eyes met across the small distance, and my brain suddenly stilled. Fuck, that face and those eyes and that mouth. Possessive and commanding. Even when both of those qualities drove me mad, they filled me with desire.

A breath passed between us before he pressed forward and slanted his mouth against mine.

When we spoke, we mixed about as well as oil and water, but our bodies were another story. We were the ocean waves, destined to crash together.





Four



Julia


But, God, I hate myself.

“Stop,” I said, pushing away from Austin.

I jumped to my feet and walked to the cliff’s edge. Fuck, what is wrong with me? Sure, I’d said that I want to have sex, but Austin? Could I look more desperate? After what we’d gone through, giving in to his advances would be so stupid. I was setting myself up to be hurt.

Austin grumbled behind me before jumping off the bed of the truck and following me. “What the hell?”

“Is this the only reason you brought me up here?” I demanded.

Fuck sensible.

I wanted an argument. At least Austin would give me that. Because Trevor sure hadn’t. Now, I was picking a fight with Austin, knowing he’d provide the ammunition.

“So, what if it was?” he snapped. “You seemed plenty willing.”

“Yeah, plenty willing. Even though I told you not to fucking touch me.”

“Right. As if you were serious.”

“Fuck, I was!”

“Then, why the hell did you come here with me in the first place?”

“I’m asking myself the same fucking question.”

“Sometimes, you really make no sense,” Austin said. His eyebrows were scrunched together, as if I was a giant mystery that he had yet to solve.

“It’s not hard to respect boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” he asked with a look of affront. “You have been eye-fucking me since you got here.”