Olivia's POV

I feel at home again.

My timetable has been changed to an entire day of art so I can finish, or at least nearly finish my pieces. Arrays of both dark and bright colors are laid out in front of me, ready to mix to my heart’s content. I intend to find the perfect blend for the piece Freddie and I are working on.

Eventually, we decided on a beautiful image Freddie created based on our life stories. Every time I look at the rough plan, I’m moved to tears. It’s such a thoughtful gesture, paired with the offer of friendship, and I can’t imagine a better way to process my emotions than through art.

It just feels like second nature.

“You’re hard at work there, Princess.”

Hearing Freddie’s amused voice behind me forces a smile to escape my lips.

He’s holding something behind his back, but I can’t quite see what. “I’d apologize for being late, but I just managed to land a girl’s phone number. She loved me the moment she saw me.”

He winks, and I laugh. “You and I both know that’s not true. Seriously, what have you got behind your back?”

“Well, I did get a girl’s phone number, that much is true, but only because I picked up drinks on my way, and she wrote it on the cup.”

He grandly reveals the drinks hidden behind his back. “Here, I wasn’t sure if you were a coffee or hot chocolate kind of girl, so I picked up one of each. You can choose.”

I make a beeline for the hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows, and hear Freddie sigh with what sounds like relief.

I give him a playful nudge. “Guess you wanted the coffee, huh?”

“You read me like a book, Olivia.” Nudging me back, he sends a jolt of electricity through me, just like he did days ago.

I can’t help but feel like something is happening inside me, something I can’t control. So far, I’ve talked to someone I barely knew, hurled a ton of abuse at him, then opened up to him, and finally spilled my emotions through tears in front of him.

I barely know Freddie, but it feels like I’ve known him longer than I actually have. He’s a good confidant and, unlike most people, can relate to my issues.

That doesn’t come around often.

“Thank you for the drink, Freddie. You really didn’t have to buy me one. How much do I owe you?” I reach for my purse, but he grabs my hand, forcing me to look at him.

“You don’t owe me anything, Olivia. I wanted to give you something to thank you for being good with Mase the other day, and as a peace offering for screaming at you a couple of weeks ago.”

I feel myself blushing furiously under his intense scrutiny and can only manage a weak, “I… okay.” My mind scolds me for allowing myself to feel so vulnerable.

Freddie then crosses the room and starts mapping out the guidelines for our work. Amazed, I watch his beautiful freehand work, forcing myself not to stare at his strong, muscular hands.

Damn, Olivia. What is wrong with you?

“Are you coming to help me or what? This stuff doesn’t create itself.” Freddie’s voice is content, and his broad smile is contagious.

“Okay, I’m coming!”

***

We draw for what feels like an eternity until the guidelines are fully mapped out. Analyzing the canvas, I’m left in awe of how much emotion has been poured into it. It feels like a piece of my heart has gone into its creation. Even though it hasn’t been painted yet, its beauty is already evident.

“Right, you can start on the sky colors at the top while I work on the crows on the right side,” Freddie says, pausing to refuel with his coffee. “Sound like a plan?”

I nod.

“Great. Can you pass me the sky palette, please?”

Leaning over the easel, I grab the palette adorned with reds, oranges, and pinks, then hand it to Freddie. Just as he reaches for it, I sneeze, sending the palette tumbling from my hand.

When I open my eyes, I see Freddie’s hands and part of his shirt stained with sunset hues. A small giggle escapes my lips before I can stop it.

“Oh, we’re doing this now, are we?” He laughs, flicking a blob of paint onto my nose.

His smirk prompts me to fling an even bigger glob right at his eye. Before we know it, the peaceful room erupts into chaos as paint flies in every direction.

“Freddie, you realize I didn’t mean to start—”

Pink paint sprays across my face and onto my lips, silencing me mid-complaint.

Grabbing the nearest can of paint, I aim to drench Freddie’s already stained shirt. But as I step forward, I slip on a lone patch of orange paint. A small scream escapes my lips as I brace for impact.

But I don’t fall.

A strong pair of hands catch me around the waist, saving me from total embarrassment. My eyes fly open to find Freddie’s face much closer than I anticipated, his blue eyes staring deeply into mine.

He gently wipes away some paint from my cheek, and I do nothing but stare.

Framing my face with his hands, he pulls me closer, his breath warm against my skin. Inches separate us, and I tremble slightly under his touch.

But I don’t pull away...

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Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone keeping up with this story! Your comments have been so kind, I truly appreciate them! Remember, if you’re enjoying this, make sure to vote, comment, and follow for more!