Page 26 of Infatuated as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #2)

Sawyer

Holly was swinging our hands back and forth, her excitement obvious as we walked down the street.

New York City managed to get even busier on a Saturday, but the slow walk from the apartment to the art studio had been nice so far.

I had Holly all close to me, our hands glued together as we moved through street after street.

“This is gonna be so much fun,” Holly said next to me.

“You’re more into this than I am,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Because we’re finally doing something for you, and I’ve been waiting for us to do that since we got here. Do you know how frustrating it’s been trying to get you to do something like this?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yes, I know. Busy working all the time. Sometimes I think you do it to avoid me.”

“My favorite part of the day is coming home to you. All day long I think about seeing you.”

“Well, the feeling is definitely mutual. Hm, I think it’s down this street.” She pointed to the right before we slithered through the crowd. “I’m so nervous meeting these guys.”

I snorted. “Why are you nervous?”

“I don’t really meet arty people that often. I should have worn a black dress.”

“You don’t even own anything black. ”

“I have a couple things.”

“I guess it’s this place.” We came to a halt outside some big double story building, the bricks a soft grey color with glass windows out the front that displayed some paintings.

My eyes flickered to the right where I spotted an alley way that showed off a hint of graffiti, and I figured that was the way in. “Might be through here…”

Fingers still tangled with Holly’s, I pulled her down the alley way, instantly met with a sea of striking, vibrant colors.

Either side of the walls were covered in graffiti, the bricks and the little fence and the garage doors coated in vivid layers of paint.

The cement below us showed remnants of dried paint that must have dripped off.

It was messy and unkempt and reminded me of home, but I liked it and I wondered if Holly did too.

We kept moving through the alley, right to the heavy looking door at the end. I gave it a knock and turned to Holly.

“You must be missing your fancy country club dinners, huh, princess?” I asked.

“I can handle this place,” she said, a defiant tone in her soft voice. “It’s just some graffiti.”

“You look a little scared.”

“I’m not scared. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

The door was suddenly yanked open, the sound of heavy metal being heaved in my ears.

Whoever was in the doorway had their face all covered up, their giant safety mask covering up any defining features.

They had a heavy brown apron on, the front streaked with red blotches and the long gloves on their arms coated in a similar looking liquid.

I felt Holly tug at my jacket from behind, and I was just about to reach around and grab her hand when the person in front of us lifted their mask up.

“Hey!” It was Damien, his brown eyes all big as he grinned at me. “I thought you forgot all about us. I’d shake your hand, but I’m kinda messy right now.” And then his eyes flickered over to my side. “You brought a friend.”

“This is Holly.” I pressed a hand to the small of her back, pulling her in closer. “My girlfriend. ”

“Hi,” Holly said shyly, offering him a wave.

“Hey! Nice to meet you. Are you guys checking out the place today?” Damien asked as he spun on his heels. “Come in, come in. Let me just put my equipment away. You two wait here by the front desk and I’ll just be one minute.”

I held the door open for Holly as she leaned in close to me. “That whole introduction was unnecessary,” she murmured.

Laughing, I shut the door behind us, watching as Damien quickly took off behind a corner.

The front part of the studio was the total opposite to the outside.

The walls were a crisp white with just a few paintings to my left, and when I peered around the corner into one of the rooms, I spotted a small sized gallery.

“Hey, I’m back!” Damien called out, apron and gloves off as he stood in front of us. “It’s nice to see you again. Your application really impressed me and the other guys here, Sawyer.”

“Oh, right. The application.” I shot Holly a little look, and she gave me a coy smile back. “Glad you liked my paintings, I guess.”

“How long have you been painting for?” he asked. “Has it been something you always wanted to do?”

“Uh, since I was a kid, I guess. I just always liked it and stuck with it,” I explained.

“Cool,” Damien said. “Holly, you go to Columbia, right? We have some art from Columbia students if you wanna check them out.”

Holly nodded. “Ooh, I’d love to see them.”

“Do you guys want a tour? I can show you around the place. I was about to finish up with my work back there.” He nodded to the left. “I do glass and metal work art. We have a big studio if you wanna see that.”

“Let’s do it,” Holly said, her soft fingers finding mine.

We followed Damien past the front desk and through to the back area of the building, and I was instantly met with the familiar sharp scent of paint.

The back of the building looked more like a warehouse, but there were a good amount of windows across the ceiling that offered the perfect amount of natural light.

To the left and right were the studios: all big and open and spacious with tall, white partitions to keep them separated.

“We support all kinds of artists here,” Damien said. “We’ve got people who do charcoal drawings and graphite stuff. There’s some printmakers here too. People who work with clay and stone. And we’ve got a lot of painters like you. Gouache, watercolors. You do oil, right?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Usually.”

“We have a couple open studios left.” Damien waved a hand at us to follow him further down the row of studios.

“If you’re interested, there’s a space open to you.

We do ask that you don’t just dump all your equipment here and take off.

Some people like to use their studio as a storeroom, but we want artists to be active.

We do exhibitions of everyone’s work pretty consistently.

We’ve had a lot of success with our artists—some have even had their art displayed in The Met. ”

“That sounds so exciting, right?” Holly asked.

It did, but I still found myself rubbing a hand against the back of my neck. “So, we just come here and make stuff and…?”

“All we ask is that you use the space. We’ve had artists say they’ll show up and then never do, and then someone who’d actually use the space misses out,” Damien said.

“It’s kinda unfair, right? We need you to commit to a decent amount of hours.

No using the space as a storage unit. That’s not what it’s for. ”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” I said.

“I’m sure you saw from the photos I sent—that Sawyer sent—that he does fine art,” Holly said. “He’ll be a great addition, right? I saw a lot of street art and modern stuff, but nothing like what Sawyer does.”

Damien nodded. “Exactly, yeah. It’d be cool to have someone who does fine art around here.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. That was when Holly snapped her head over to me. “I’ll think about it, right?”

“What’s there to think about?” she asked.

“I just don’t know if I have time for it,” I said. I could already see the wheels turning in her head.

“You can make time,” she said firmly .

“I’m not sure if I can.”

“You know what? I looked at your schedule before we left, and you have plenty of time to do it.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

“I think you might have looked at the wrong schedule.”

“I’m certain I didn’t.”

“I don’t know what schedule you were looking at, but I’m working Monday to Friday.”

“That’s your old one. Have you not seen the new one?”

“I think I’ll let you guys talk this one out,” Damien said with an awkward chuckle, pointing a thumb behind him. “I’m gonna… I’m just…”

“We were just about to leave, anyway,” I said as I grabbed Holly’s hand. I was fully expecting her to let go, but she kept her fingers tight against mine. “Thanks for showing us around.”

“No problem.” He nodded. “Let me know what you think, okay? We’d love to have you join. Nice meeting you, Holly!”

He checked out quickly after that, and I was pretty sure me and Holly’s awkward little almost fight had done that to him.

“Come with me,” she said, hand on mine as she took me back the way we had come from. “I wanna see that little gallery they had at the front.”

She stayed quiet the rest of the short walk to the entrance, guiding me into the gallery I only got a small peek at earlier.

It was a lot bigger than I realized, with canvases spaced out evenly along the white walls.

Holly kept pulling at my hand, finally stopping in front of one of the paintings that was a swirl of green and red and blue.

“Look, no offense to the people who painted this stuff, but you’re more talented than all of them,” she said. “And they’ve probably all been given a bunch of opportunities that you’ve never had. Classes and tutors and all that stuff.”

“So?” I shifted on my feet, eyes not meeting hers just yet as I pretended to look at another painting.

“So…” She let out an annoyed sound. “Your paintings could be in here. A lot of them. And everyone loves the one you did for the library, but this is different. This is a proper art studio with a gallery and exhibitions and everything. Don’t you want to do something like this?”

I did. A lot. More than I had realized. Her words kept tugging at my heart, though. I knew she wanted good things for me, that she wanted me to focus on myself, but it was my job to prioritize her. She was right at the top of my list. Art had been coming second ever since we moved.

“Of course I do, but…” I said, my voice trailing off for a second. “Holly, you heard what the guy said. I can’t just show up for an hour a day. I’m so busy with work…”

“You don’t have to work.”

Eyes still ahead of me, I shook my head. “We can’t have this argument again.”

“I know. I’m tired of it. You work so hard, Sawyer,” she said. “You do so much for me. You do more than you need to. You should do something for yourself. You’re allowed to put yourself first.”

“I don’t know, Holly…”

“Your art could be in here.” She rested her head on my arm, her forehead pressed up against me.

“Everything you paint is so pretty. Don’t you want everyone else to see how talented you are?

And it’s not just about making sales and getting money.

Just imagine your stuff being up there on the wall.

Yours. Your work. With your name right next to it. ”

And that sounded really good. I didn’t want it to, but it did. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“There’s nothing left to think about. Everyone would fall in love with your art if you put it in here. You make the most beautiful work. It’d be so nice if everyone got to see it, don’t you think?”

I let myself get lost in her fantasy. It’d be nice to have my paintings on that wall, in an actual gallery, in a real place with real people with real success. Actual success wasn’t something I ever thought I’d have, but Holly sure as hell seemed convinced it’d all work out.

“I mean, yeah,” I said lowly. “I guess.”

“Can we just try it for a few weeks or something and just test it out? If you really hate it, then you can say goodbye to it. But what if you love it? And there’s only one way to find out if you’ll love it…

” She stood in front of me, Bambi eyes blinking up at me.

“Please just try it. Just for a little while. Please, Sawyer.”

I groaned when she said my name in that sweet voice. She knew all my soft spots, and my softest one was for her. “Holly…”

“Please, please, please.”

“Maybe…” I paused for a moment. “Maybe we’ll try it for a month or two. But just that, just trying it out. I’ll do it for you if it’ll make you happy.”

She squealed, the noise bright and cheerful as she threw her arms around me. “This is gonna be so good for you!”

My hands circled around her and I squeezed at her, her body all warm and soft.

I wasn’t supposed to be taking risks. Risks were for people with money and safety nets and back-up plans.

Not for poor guys with rich girlfriends.

But that fantasy she had come up with sounded so damn good: an actual studio to work in, a space that wasn’t cramped, my paintings—my work—hung up on the walls of a gallery.

Saying yes was a risk. But saying yes also meant I got to have something I never thought I’d ever have. And if I got to see my girl smiling and happy in the process, then a leap was absolutely worth it.