I stare down at the canvas in front of me, and I start painting, knowing full well that there is no way my painting is going to look anything like Arlo. I paint, hardly ever looking up at Arlo. Every time I do, his eyes are always watching me, making me nervous or so filled with lust that I can’t think straight. So, I just paint, mostly from memory, not that it matters anyway .
I look over to see how Eden is doing. Her painting looks exactly like Arlo. I’m going to have to steal hers later when I’m thinking dirty thoughts about him .
“It doesn’t look that bad,” Eden says, lying to me .
“Really?” I ask .
“Okay, it looks horrible. How did you manage to make him look like a mix between a rhinoceros and a gorilla ?”
I laugh and shrug as I look at the painting. “It’s a talent, I guess .”
“Let’s all thank Mr. Carini for being the inspiration for all your paintings today. We’ll be going through everyone’s paintings over the next few weeks, and at the end of your time here, we will paint again and see how things have changed in your appreciation of what’s important to capture in your painting .”
I frown. ?
??This guy does realize this is art history, not a class about how to paint, right?” I ask Eden .
She shrugs. “Well, at least I’ll get an A .”
“I might as well drop out now because I’m going to fail this class .”
I begin to gather my things as Arlo walks out of the room. It’s the wrong decision. I know it the second my feet leave the ground to start running after him. But I’ve never been good at doing what is good for me .
“You really think I look like a hippo, Miss Young?” Arlo asks as he continues to walk forward without looking behind himself to know who is following. He just knows, or at least presumes, it is me .
“No, I think you look more like an ass. Too bad I’m not a skilled enough artist to convey it .”
He chuckles and stops, waiting for me to catch up to him .
I’m shocked that he’s talking to me, but maybe he feels that he’s warned me enough, and any decision I make from this moment on is mine to make .
“Why did you let art history students paint you? Surely, they could have paid some college student who needed a buck or two instead of having you get naked in front of a room full of strangers .”
“I did that because it was fun—the same reason I do everything in my life.” He turns and starts walking .
“Arlo!” I shout .
He stops and turns, studying me .
“Why would you do that after everything you did last night? You made it your mission to keep me as far away from you as possible. Yet here you are, showing up in my classroom the next day .”
He grins. And then he leans down and firmly kisses me on the lips. It’s a sweet, chaste kiss with only a bit of his tongue and a tease of what more he could give me. But it’s enough to make my craving for him uncontrollable .
He pulls away. “Maybe it’s because I want you .”
I blush. “I want you too. I want to come to one of your parties and actually be invited this time .”
“No, you don’t. The only way you become one of the women is if you become indebted to me .”
The wheels start turning in my head again. I still don’t know what he means by being in his debt .
“Stop thinking about it. You’ll never be indebted to me .”
“Fuck me, and I’ll stop thinking about it .”
“Why? So that you could become even more obsessed? Clingy? No, thanks. I have more than enough women who fawn over me .”
And then Arlo leaves me alone. Confused and frustrated .