Drawn to You — Volume Two by Vanessa Booke Read Free Book Online Page B

you draw eyes, they’re always hers. It doesn’t matter if she’s blonde, brunette, or a redhead, you always draw them aquamarine.”
    “Maybe I just like the color,” I lie.
    She laughs as she walks back over to the wall and rehangs the painting.
    “Maybe.”
    I watch as Felicity grabs my wallet and keys from the black cupboard behind her. She slides them over to me with an amused look on her face, as if she’s just discovered the reason behind Mona Lisa’s smile.
    “Or maybe she’s your muse.”
     

ELEVEN
    EMILY
     
    A PAIR OF painted aquamarine eyes greets me as I enter my apartment after a long afternoon of classes. I stumble back in shock at the life-like portrait sitting partially gift wrapped on top of my living room couch. The blue and green hues that bleed across the canvas immediately draw me, pulling me toward it. What the hell? Where did this come from? I know the answer even as I ask myself the question. It’s been a week since I left Tristan’s apartment feeling like an idiot.
    “It’s beautiful, right?” Ceci asks, appearing from the kitchen with a bag of popcorn. “I was getting ready to watch a movie when the door rang. The guy who delivered it said it was for you.”
    A mischievous smile plays on her lips as she walks over to the painting and tears off the rest of the wrapping paper covering it. I stand back in shock at the majestic colors of a galaxy of stars that crown the outside of the eyes. Ceci pulls a card from the back of the canvas and hands it to me. She winks and heads back to the kitchen.
    “Maybe it’s an early birthday gift?” she asks. “Do you want me to read it to you?”
    “Uh, no,” I say, snatching the card from Ceci’s hands.
    “Ohhh, or is it from a lover?”
    I roll my eyes as she wiggles her eyebrows at me.
    “Fine, I’ll leave you to read your naughty card.”
    Cecil disappears from the living room as she makes her way toward my bedroom. My chest squeezes as I open the card and spot the beginning of Byron’s poem.
    Emily,
    “She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes.”
    I hope you enjoy the painting. I made it to remind you what I see every time I look at you.
    - T.K.
    There’s only one person that I know with those initials. Tristan Knight. Why is he doing this now? Why did he wait four years to come back into my life? I wish I could tell him how much it hurt when he left. It was one of the most vulnerable moments I’ve ever experienced, and then he was gone. Why did it have to be him? It would’ve hurt less if it had been anyone else, but it was him.
    The color of the painting draws my attention back to it.I can’t keep this. I definitely can’t keep this. Can I? No, I need to give it back. To my surprise, Tristan’s address sits on the back of the card. It’s almost as if he’s daring me to come find him. Whether I want to admit it aloud or not, the idea of seeing him again is temptation enough.
    I’ll go and give him the painting back and then come home.
     

TWELVE
    EMILY
     
    ANXIETY TAKES OVER as we get closer and closer to Tristan’s apartment. The confidence I once had drains quickly from me as we enter the Meatpacking District. I’m tempted to have the driver turn back, but it took a hell of a long time getting down here through rush hour traffic. Why am I so nervous? Memories of Tristan’s whip hitting my skin jolts me. The marks on my skin have faded, but the sensation hasn’t. What’s wrong with me? I can’t help but want to relive the moment over and over again.
    The painting Tristan sent me sits taunting me from the opposite side of the car. Something about seeing it left my emotions in a whirlwind. Most people don’t think about how much time it takes to paint something. I’ve heard Tristan talk about starting and finishing pieces. They never happened over night. In fact, he often said some took months to finish. My