The knock on the studio door startles me, I'm nowhere near ready for Flynn to see my work. I pick up some of my clothes and start shoving them back into the black garbage bag they spilled out of. "Coming!" I yell. Not even halfway done. Screw it! I toss the bag on my mattress. That's as good as its gonna get. Unbolting the door I swing it open, jumping back when I see Truex in front of me.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, confused. "Is Mya, okay?" I ask, worriedly.
"She's fine. We just didn't think it was smart for you to be meeting some random guy alone." He replies.
"He's not random. I've been to his gallery." I say, irritated that they would think I'd be that stupid.
He shrugs, not saying anything. "Fine, come in." I offer, going back to picking up my clothes. I look at the clock on the wall, its 20 to 6. I still have some time to get this mess cleared up. Putting my clothes in the corner of the room out of the way, I then start neatly stacking boxes against the wall.
"You can't live here." He comments, from behind me.
"Funny, because I already am." I challenge, feeling my hackles rise from his tone of voice.
"That door is basically patched together rotted wood and there's no heat in here." He states, looking around the small room.
I point to my space heater. He doesn't even look. "You're staying with us, until you get the new studio."
"And give up this life of luxury, not happening." I reply, refocusing on tidying up.
"Yes." He states, strongly.
I roll my eyes at his response. "How long have we known each other? In what universe did you think telling me I was moving in with you two would be a good idea?"
"Fair enough. Would you like to move in until you can afford another place?"
"humm...I don't know.'' I say, pretending to think about it.
"Briar." He warns. I smile, knowing I'm testing his patience.
"Yes. Just stop begging." I tease, kind of relieved. I didn't count on how cold the nights are here. Even with the space heater, I still freeze. ''Thanks, by the way. You have my word I'll be out as soon as I possibly can." I say, meeting his eyes so he knows that I truly mean it.
He doesn't respond and I don't ask him to, because the knock on the door distracts me. I smooth out my hair just before opening the door. "Hi, Flynn. Thanks for driving all the way out here."
"My pleasure." He replies, kissing both my cheeks. I stand aside, letting him come in and close the door. I turn around and almost run into his back.
"Oh, sorry. This is, Truex Marshall. Truex this is Flynn Simmons, he owns the art gallery I was telling you about." I state, awkwardly. My nerves starting to get the best of me, this happens every time I show any of my pieces. With Truex here its even more nerve wrecking. I've been rejected from gallery after gallery, to say I have butterflies in my stomach would be an understatement.
Flynn holds out his hand. "I know who he is."
Stunned. I ask, "You know each other?"
Flynn, laughs. "No, I just know of him. Big football fan." He explains.
"Oh." I smile, uncomfortably. Not knowing how to respond, so I get down to business. ''Well, here's my work." I offer, gesturing to the stacks of canvases leaning against all available wall space. "I'm sorry its not displayed better. I'm working on getting a bigger place." I explain, apologetically.
YOU ARE READING
The Artist & The Q.B.
RomanceBriar Roberts is a struggling artist who can't help clash with her best friends brother and Quarterback Truex Marshall. When Truex starts dropping hints of interest in her, Briar's vain attempts to keep him away are laughable. This is a pretty humo...