Yeah. R u naked?
He’d keep asking until he got an answer, even if it was fuck off. Or fuk off.
No. I’m painting. Not naked.
Do u want to b?
Not rly. 2 cold.
Time for a new tactic.
Can I call u?
Sure. Gimme a few 2 clean up.
He waited fifteen minutes and then called, already anticipating her voice. Soft as a waterfall, lilting with her easy laughter. He liked making her laugh.
“Karyn?” he asked when she picked up.
“Yes. What’s with the naked stuff?”
“I was trying to set a mood.”
“Oh. Sorry. I’m oblivious.”
“No kidding.” But he grinned as he rolled over on his side and propped his head on his hand. “What are you painting?”
“That same picture I told you about.”
“The one with all the splashes of color?”
“Mmm hmm.” Her voice sounded a little distracted. He imagined her studying her picture, head cocked, eyes narrowed. “It’ll probably look like a mess to anyone else, but I like it. Love it actually. It’s like an exploding sunburst.”
The sheer delight trickling through her voice made him sit up. “I want to see it.”
“Whenever you’d like. I think I need more blue paint—”
“Blue for an exploding sunburst?”
“Like the center of a flame.” At his silence, she added, “It’s my painting.”
“I know.” He chuckled and got to his feet, already searching around for his jeans on the floor. So he wasn’t the best of housekeepers. “You don’t think it’s weird I called?”
“I was wondering when you would.”
“Oh.” Okay then. “Can I come over?”
>
She hesitated. “Now?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s past midnight.”
“You busy?”
“No, just painting. But I was going to go to bed soon.”