Pushing the Limits by Brooke Cumberland Read Free Book Online

shading to exaggerate the features more.
    I wait until it dries a bit before adding another layer of blue, this time a couple shades darker than before to accent the cheekbones. I run the angular flat bristles alongside the jawline and up near the ear, making the blue stand out more than the purple. Once I’m done with the blue, I blend in the white to outline the other side of the nose and eye.
    The song continues repeating in my earbuds as I sing some of the lyrics aloud. I take a step back and look at the two sides as a whole.
    I tilt my head left and right, checking out the different angles before deciding to add another layer of blue to the right side.
    I quickly glance up at the clock and see I still have a good twenty-five minutes before I need to clean up and pretend I was never here. Just as I’m dipping a clean flat brush in the paint, I feel someone behind me.
    I feel a hand on my shoulder and jerk around so quickly the paintbrush between my fingers follows. A streak of blue paint wipes across Professor Hampton’s face before I even realize it’s happened.
    “Oh my God!” My eyes go wide as I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I quickly yank my earbuds out. “I’m so sorry!” I lower my hand and examine the damage.
    He smiles and a small laugh escapes his throat as he blinks. “Guess I deserved that.”
    I frown. “It wasn’t on purpose.”
    “Never sneak up on a painter,” he confirms. “Sorry about that. I was trying not to startle you, but apparently, my plan failed.”
    “It’s fine,” I assure him. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in yet.”
    “Yeah, I figured I’d come early and prepare.” He smiles that crooked, drop-your-panties and beg-for-it smile, sending a rush of excitement through me. I’ve had some amazing professors in the past, but they’ve never made me feel as nervous to be around them as he does.
    I can feel his breath against my bare arm, alerting me to take a step back. I put the brush down and look away. I start cleaning up my supplies, but I feel him grip my wrist and squeeze.
    “Wait.”
    I turn to look at him staring at the painting. I swallow at the intensity of his voice and eyes. His hand stays wrapped around my wrist as he stares intently at it, almost as if he’s examining every detail.
    “You started this just today?”
    “Yeah, about an hour ago.” I look back at the painting. “It’s a rough start. Something I did on a whim.”
    He releases my wrist and smiles at me. “ It’s stunning. The contrast between the warm and cool colors really catches your attention, drawing you into the tones. It's almost like they are forcing you to feel the agony and heartache she's feeling from her struggles.”
    “Thank you.” I lower my head to hide the blush creeping over my cheeks. When I need to get out of my own head, I just start painting. Getting lost in whatever piece I’m working on helps me cope. It’s the only non-medical thing that keeps my anxiety under control. “I was trying to show her two contradicting personalities by putting them side by side,” I explain.
    “So she’s struggling with inner demons but doesn’t reveal it on the outside?” he asks, intrigued, and I nod.
    “There’s a struggle with who she wants to be on the outside and what she feels on the inside.”
    “Sounds intense.” His lips tilt down slightly into a frown. “I love it, Aspen. Would you mind if I kept it in the classroom to exhibit for a bit?”
    I look down and bite my lip. I slowly bring my head back up, his eyes trying to read me. “Um…” I hesitate. “Actually, it’s kind of personal.”
    “I won’t tell anyone it’s yours.” He grins slyly, and I find myself having a hard time resisting those damn dimples.
    “Okay, so if anyone asks…” I prompt.
    “I’ll claim it’s a student from the old college I used to teach at. Someone named…” He pauses briefly. “Regina Hopintale.”
    I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing but fail.