A Slip of the Hand

Chapter 15

I gently push around the color with a dry paddle brush, deciding what to soften and what to leave sharp as my mind wanders.

Thank god Daniel shut things down. I don't know what the fuck I was doing. I would have missed all of the incredible things that happened with Oliver that night if he hadn't. Even the fact that I saw his bedroom—a spot that is obviously his fortress—is completely mind-blowing. Ellie hasn't even seen Johnny's bedroom yet. Or any part of his house. Which eventually is going to get weird. Does he have a secret family?

I watch the blue dance around the page as I cut into it with a silicone wedge. Blue like Oliver's cool blue eyes. I shape and reshape it, working fast before it absorbs into the canvas.

Thank god Daniel shut things down. That would have been throwing away a lot. I mean, he's completely amazing. But he's not Oliver. There's only one Oliver Rose, and he fucking kissed me! Even if I wanted to tell someone—those pretentious bitches on the forums who think they know everything there is to know about him because they've seen The Thorns 20-whatever times— about the softness of his bed, the taste of his lips, the way the firelight dances on his skin... they wouldn't believe me.

I'm not even sure my family will believe me if I ever decide to tell them. I don't want Mom to go into one of her rants about the dangers of Hollywood, the temptations of drugs and the flesh. Sorry Mom, I want those things... well, just a bit of drugs and a lot of flesh. Or at least a lot of Oliver's flesh.

Thank god Daniel shut things down! The thought won't leave my head, becoming more emphatic each time it passes through.

He is really fun to be around, though. I hope I haven't completely ruined our ability to be friends someday, or at least friendly.

His leg was a solid block, and I could feel the ridges of his muscles through his shorts. God, how I wanted to explore... I know I've hugged him, but I wonder what it feels like to be held by him, to have his arms wrapped tightly around you.

Shit, why am I thinking about him when there's Oliver to entertain myself with?

I focus harder on the music again, letting its swirling melody guide my strokes, until it's time to let the layer dry and get ready for bed.