“Good, you can cheer me up.” She flopped into her chair, relieved when he took the seat next to her instead of across the table. She winked.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
Apparently, she needed to tease harder. True, a random person would stare at her blankly for most of her incomplete comments. Things were different with Zane. Or at least, before he left, he would have gotten her. “I'm not seeing eye to eye with my best friend.”
“We’ll get there.” A faint hesitation cut through his words.
Instead of overanalyzing the situation, she pushed her sketchpad toward him. “What do you think?”
He turned the pages. “I’d forgotten how amazing you are at this. I mean, I’ve always known you were good, but your talent still floors me.”
“It’s only a rough outline.” Heat flooded her cheeks, and she ducked her head, even though he wasn’t watching her.
“That makes it more amazing. Is this... This isn’t me, is it?”
She followed his finger. “Technically, yes. I’m using photos of you to create him.”
“You’re sure?”
Had she done something wrong? Had the compliments been lip-service? “Why?”
“He’s blond.”
She rolled her eyes and tugged the sketchbook away. “It’s not supposed to literally be you. You’re just a point of reference.” She liked to keep fantasy Zane all for herself. The one on the page had to be different.
He tilted his head, still studying the image, though it wasn’t in front of him anymore. “You made him all wiry. Like skinny but muscular. How is that even possible?”
It was an exaggeration, based on the art style, but the form was one thing she knew she had right. She watched Zane, not successfully hiding her amusement.
He finally met her gaze. He finally looked up. “What?”
She made a show of raking her gaze over his defined chest and sturdy arms. His martial-arts training kept him in shape before he left, but his time in the Air Force had honed his form more. Too bad asking for nude shots—strictly for reference purposes, of course—wouldn’t be appropriate. “You tell me. How do you pull it off?”
“Is this the one you’re going to sell? Or is this for your portfolio, to get that teaching job? Both?”
Her amusement wavered, uncertainty sinking back in. Times like this she wished she’d never mentioned she wanted to do something professional with her art. It was a nice fantasy, but he’d grabbed the idea and clung to it, reminding her whenever he could that she needed to do it. It was the big reason he’d agreed to model for her. She suspected his reminders would become more frequent now he was back.
“I still have so much research to do.”
He stared back, skepticism painting his expression. “Have you started?”
“I’ve poked around a little. I have a list of names to look into.” She didn’t want to have this conversation. It seemed like there were a lot of those between them now.
“We should go out.” His too-cheerful announcement came from nowhere.
It was a great idea. So why was she hesitating to agree? “So we can stumble on more awkward topics we need to avoid?”
“So we can get past them.”
She couldn’t expect everything to be the same. They needed to adjust to who they’d become.
“All right.” She pushed back from the table. “Give me ten minutes to wash this charcoal off and change into something less graphite covered.”
“I’ll be here.”
Disappointment trickled through her, and she squashed it. Hoping he’d offer to help was the last thing she needed to do. Still, she couldn’t shake the memory of his hand resting at the small of her back. The hammer of his heart against her palm. Maybe...
No. Bad. She wasn’t going to consider what might have happened if he kissed her. If they’d stumbled back to his truck together. If he’d lifted her onto the tailgate and pushed between her legs. Or rather, she wouldn’t consider it too much.