Catching Waves with You: All's Fair in Love and Sports Series by Julie L. Spencer

Author:Julie L. Spencer [Spencer, Julie L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve: Draw Me Like a French Girl

Parents are still out of town. Want to come back over after work? Maggie’s text read.

Saturdays were busy on the pier and at the sub shop, so we would probably both get done working shortly after dark. Even with the lights over the pier, at a certain point in the twilight, I had a hard time seeing well enough to accurately sketch human faces. I texted her back, Let me know when you get out of work and I’ll meet you at your house.

Bring your art stuff, she texted. I want you to draw me. Like for real. Not just on a napkin.

I will do anything you want, baby.

Good. I expect a passionate make-out session afterward.

I laughed out loud at that one, catching the attention of passers-by. I grinned and held up my phone. “Funny text from my girlfriend. She wants me to draw her portrait later tonight.”

And just like that, I had a customer sit down and ask for a sketch. I think the college-age girl was hoping I’d abandon the portrait session with my girlfriend later and take her to dinner. I waited until after she paid me an exorbitant amount of money before telling her I was just starting my senior year of high school. She excused herself pretty quickly after that, and I finally got around to texting Maggie back.

Sorry, had a customer. Your wish is my command.

She didn’t answer me right away, so I assumed she got busy. I focused on my work and didn’t notice a text come through again until I had just finished packing up my supplies.

Out of work. My feet hurt. Meet me at my house as soon as you’re able.

Be right there.

I followed her instructions and brought my easel, sketchpad, charcoal pencils, sketching pencils, and erasers into her house with me, along with a pair of sweats and my toothbrush. Now that I knew how much fun we could have making out, I was prepared.

She didn’t meet me at the door because I didn’t knock. Assuming her parents were still gone, I trudged up the stairs and found Maggie in her spacious bathroom, pulling a pick through her curls. She had also applied lipstick, which I found ironic since most of it would wind up smearing onto my lips.

“You looked beautiful before,” I said, clearing my throat.

Maggie startled and turned around. “How’d you get in here?”

“The front door was unlocked.” I hitched my thumb over my shoulder. “I figured you were the only one here, so I didn’t bother knocking.”

“Good thinking.” She tossed her pick into the drawer and hurried over to give me a hug. “I can’t kiss you yet, or I’ll rub off my lipstick. Sketching first. Making out later.”

“I’m totally down with that,” I said, kissing the top of her head, which smelled like a combination of her expensive shampoo I’d been attacked with the previous evening, and freshly baked bread from the sub shop. “Where do you want me to set up?”

“Here in my bedroom.

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