Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2) (20 page)

“Yeah, they’re planning the joint bachelor/bachelorette party, I guess.” He propped his dirty shoe on the edge of my coffee table.

“Whoa. Joint?” I asked kicking his foot off the table I just polished today. C’mon, dude.

He squinted at me and took another swig. “Yeah. It’s just the five of us, anyway. Besides you can spend quality time with my sister.” He put both of his feet up on the table.
Fucker.

“Yeah, that’s true,” I said giving both feet a stiff kick. He winced with a curse, and I relaxed back into the couch. “I mean, it would be nice to see her,” I clarified, but August wasn’t buying it. He eyed me skeptically then set his beer on the table and leaned onto his knees.

“About Capri,” he started, as I swooped in with a coaster under his beer. Seriously? This fool was an animal.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you about my intentions with your sister.” I set my beer down, on a fuckin’ coaster.

August held his hand up quickly, “Dude, I don’t want to know everything. I just want to make sure you know how special she is.”

“I know, August.” I’d always known, but after what happened at Blue’s house, something changed. I still haven’t figured out what, but I’d spent the last few days twisted. A part of me fell open that day to Capri, and I had no control over it. Feelings of panic and peace had been cage fighting in my chest ever since.

“She’s different, August. Things with her, they’re different from anything I’ve ever had before. I’m not sure I can even explain it, but she’s kind of become everything to me, you know?” I ran my hands through my hair and bounced my heels on the floor. This admission was huge for me. It wasn’t every day I allowed myself to get attached to someone, and even though I’d attached myself to the Hunter family a long time ago, this was different. The step from friends to more felt like the first time the tattoo needle hit my skin. There was no going back.

“I do know, actually.” August smiled at me.

I nodded and sat back into the couch, relieved. Of course, he knew. He had Kensie.

Holy shit.

“You have Kensie!” I sat forward again.

“I do.” August smiled calmly, and a little too confidently for my taste.

“You have Kensie, dude. I have Capri. You and Kensie.” I pointed at August. “Me and Capri.” I dug my thumb into my chest.

“Yep.” August laughed. “Does she know?”

“Well, yeah. I think. I mean. She kisses me, and the other day she crawled into my lap.”

August threw his hands in the air choking on his beer. “Wes. I just wanted to know if she knows that is the real deal for you. No details, please.”

“Right.” I nodded and leaned forward to pull my phone from my pocket.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Making sure she knows,” I answered typing in my text.

Me: You’re mine

Capri: I am.

Fuck, yeah. I jumped to my feet and shuffled around the floor. August laughed his ass off. Funny, ‘cause I did the same when he danced, only because he looked like a dumbass.

Capri: You’re mine too then.

Me: Yours, baby.

I typed back grinning like a fool. “She knows,” I told August bouncing back into the couch.

“Good.” He smiled.

G
irls’ night, I needed this. I had so much to catch Kensie and Lennon up on. I wasn’t sure how, though. I’d spent so many years containing all of my thoughts behind my tongue. It was easier to stay hidden when I didn’t speak up. Since spending time with Wes though, I had a sudden urge to test my limits.

“I dropped out of school,” I blurted to the girls as they busied themselves making margaritas.

“What?” Kensie shouted over the blender. Okay, I hid my voice behind the crushing of ice. I should get points for effort. She turned it off and popped the lid. “What did you say, Capri?” She glanced over her shoulder at me before taking one of the slices of lime Lennon was cutting.

“I dropped out of school,” I said again. Kensie’s mouth dropped open with the falling of the lime wedge into the blender. Lennon’s reaction was to chuck a full lime across the kitchen at me.

“Crap.” I ducked to the side. “What was that for?”

“You dropped out of school?” She squeezed a slice at me, splattering lime juice all over the table. “What the hell, Capri? I spent all last semester getting you through English Lit.”

I clenched my teeth together and grimaced. “Yeah, and I really appreciated it.”

“Me, too.” Her glare popped into a grin. “There’s no way I would have made it through without you there. That class was boring as hell.” I laughed in agreement.

“But why?” Kensie asked pouring the margaritas into our glasses.

“It wasn’t for me.” I stood up to grab the salt from the pantry. “I’ve never been motivated to go. I tried, I really did, but my heart just isn’t in it.”

“And where is your heart?” Kensie handed Lennon and me each our cups.

With Wes,
I thought but wasn’t ready for the confession yet. “In art,” I said following Lennon out into the living room.

“So, you really have always been an artist then?” Lennon asked sitting down in the oversized chair.

I peered at her through squinted eyes and shrugged my shoulders. I still wasn’t comfortable with the title artist. When was someone called an artist? When was someone called an author, a singer, or a designer? Was it simply the day they start creating or were there titles you earned through acknowledgment? For me, I couldn’t call myself an artist until I saw myself as one. Today, I was not an artist. “I’ve always loved art, yes.”

“That’s crazy,” Kensie said, setting her margarita onto the coffee table and falling back onto the couch. I chose the floor. I distinctly remembered walking in on August and Kensie on that couch a few months back. Not cool. “Not crazy that you have a thing for art, but crazy that we’ve never known.”

“Yeah, I guess, well. I don’t talk about it much.” I shifted, bending my legs to the side.

“Or ever.” Lennon stared at me. The way her eyes narrowed in challenge at me brought a smile to my face. She was so tiny, yet so determined. “Which is lame.”

“As much as I love it, I’m not the most confident about it,” I said recognizing this as my opportunity to tell them that I’m colorblind but talked right past it. I wasn’t ready to go there yet, either.

“Confident enough to drop out of school, though,” Lennon teased sliding her leg under her.

I laughed. “I like to use the term hopeful.”

Kensie smiled. “When you realize how amazing your art is, just promise we will be the first to see it.” This was why she was perfect for my brother. She had a heart that was more compassionate than most at our age, just like him, because of all she went through with her dad. The scars on their hearts made them beautiful people. My heart was untouched. I wondered what that said about me.

The girls and I sat around sipping on drinks and planning this joint bachelor/ bachelorette party for the next hour. Lennon was a tough sell on the idea. She was a strong supporter of a bride’s last wild night out before the wedding and said that couldn’t happen with the groom hovering. I didn’t care either way; whatever August and Kensie wanted was perfect.

I had to admit that I was looking forward to a night out with Wes and our friends. I wondered if it would be awkward, with us dancing around how to act with our friends and family around. We’d spent so much time just the two of us wrapped up in our painting and in each other. This would be the first time the people in our lives saw what we’d been creating together besides art. It was scary to think about.

The text alert from my phone echoed from the kitchen. I hopped up from the ground. “Not Tommy’s. Downtown, Kensie,” I said taking Lennon’s side on the location debate.

“Really? But Tommy’s is kind of our place.” She held her hands over her chest. I shook my head at her and went into the kitchen.

“It’s also tacky,” I shouted and heard Kensie’s gasp mixed with Lennon’s snicker.

“It is not,” she yelled back.

“For a bachelorette, yes, it’s completely tacky,” Lennon told her.

“How about the Hard Rock?” I asked digging in my purse on the kitchen table for my phone. “They have that club downstairs, and they have that poolside one on the roof, too.”
Ah-ha. Found it.
“Oh,” I said louder than I’d intended, seeing Wes’ name lit up on the screen.

“Who is it?” Kensie asked.

“Wes,” I answered nonchalantly opening the message and walking back into the living room.

Wes: You’re mine.

My feet lost their movement, and my heart fell to the soles, anchoring me to the carpet.

“What does he want?” Lennon’s voice perked up in the end. I shook my head and typed back my response quickly, the less I thought about, the more honest I’d be.

Me: I am

Then I hit send and stared at my friends. Holy crap. Maybe I should have thought that through a little more.

“Oh yeah, I saw him the other night at Tommy’s.” Lennon distracted me from the blue screen in my hand.

“You did?” He and I had been spending almost all of our time together lately so him going somewhere without me was news. I tapped on my phone.

Me: You’re mine too then.

Crap. I was a stage three clinger. When did that happen?

Wes: Yours, baby
.

His message came through immediately, making my heart soar so high I swore it reached heaven.

“Yeah. He was
alone
.” She spoke the words firmly, nailing in their importance.

“Alone, alone?” Kensie piped up, recognizing the rarity. Wes was never spotted alone. Especially not at a place like Tommy’s where his co-ed groupies hovered.

“Yep, all alone. Sat at the bar for an hour or two nursing a beer and then left.” Lennon clicked her tongue against her cheek.

“Alone,” I said again, but not questioning the oddity. Instead, the word etched into my chest.

“He didn’t even notice when the usual sweeties did their fly-bys.” Lennon sat forward in the chair. “You should have seen ‘em. They were all slutted out and prowling around just waiting for Wes to strike.” Ugh. I could picture it; although, I wouldn’t use the word prowl. That word made them sound too intelligent. Maybe skitter or drift.

“But when he didn’t so much as blink their way,” Lennon’s voice became more animated, “they sulked off tossing their extensions left and right. Then guess what they did?” She almost whispered as I leaned forward in anticipation. “Those hussies came back by with their skirts even shorter and lashes even longer.” Bitches. “One last attempt, and just like before, Wes was oblivious.”

“Damn right, he was. Effing bitches better keep their fake nailed hands off of him,” I shouted into the tiny space. Kensie’s head snapped to me with eyes wide. Lennon tossed her own head back and cackled.

“I knew it.” She pointed at me. “You’re sleeping with him,” she accused.

“Am not,” I shot back stamping my foot.

“Yes, you are. You are so
effing
sleeping with him.” She air quoted my poor attempt at profanity.

“I am not,” I said crossing my arms over my chest in a huff because, really, I wasn’t, and it was crap.

“I think she’s telling us the truth, Len. She’s looking a little sorry for herself.” Kensie pat the spot next to her on the couch. I shook my head immediately. Brother’s penis was there. Not happening.

“Huh. That’s weird.” Lennon sat back into her chair.

“Why is that weird?” I asked pulling my arms in tighter around myself.

“Shut up, Lennon,” Kensie threw at her, but Lennon ignored her, of course.

“Well, because it’s Wes. He sleeps with everybody.”

My arms slipped from my grasp and thumped against my sides.

“I said shut up,” Kensie seethed across the room.

“Oh.” I scuffed over the spot next to Kensie on the couch and sat down.

“I’m not trying to be a bitch about it, but it’s true, yeah?” Lennon lifted a shoulder. The way she just crushed my heart deserved a two-shoulder lift at least.

“Yeah.” I sighed and leaned into Kensie, who wrapped her arm around me.