had other things, good things, in my life to focus on.
One of those good—okay, incredible—things poked his head through the open door. “May I come in?”
Glancing up, I smiled at Tristin. “Of course.”
I began to close the sketch pad, but he placed his hand over mine to stop me. “May I?”
Instinctually, I wanted to slam it closed and hide it away where he could never find it. But I really did need to get over that inclination if I expected to be able to survive my first art class next semester.
“It’s not done,” I eventually replied, handing the sketch pad over.
It was open to a drawing of a dark-haired man wearing jeans and a jacket with patches over the elbows. He held a stack of books so tall, it partially obscured his face. But it was his dark brown eyes that drew me in. They spoke of secrets mixed with good intentions and bad decisions.
“Is this Hayle?”
“Yeah, it’s dumb.”
Tristin gave me an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? It’s brilliant.”
“You might not feel that way when you get to the one of you.”
“You drew me?”
“Yeah.” My lips curved at the edges. “And I was pissed at you at the time, so be warned.”
“What? Did you make me into a donkey or something?”
I laughed. “No, but now I’m kind of wishing I had.”
He slowly flipped through page after page, studying the drawings like they were each a window to my soul. Which was close enough to the truth. I could stand in front of him completely nude, in the sunlight, and not feel as exposed as I did right now.
But there was also something liberating about this kind of nakedness, because I wanted to be vulnerable with Tristin. I longed for it. And sharing this part of myself already made me feel closer to him. Like all our time apart had been nothing but a pause.
When he reached the drawing of himself, I felt his shoulders tense. “This is me?”
There was no mistaking his features, but I still replied with, “Yes. You’re a silver statue,” I explained, in case it wasn’t obvious. “Cold and detached and unyielding.”
He ran a light finger over the hard lines of his face. “When did you draw this?”
“After our argument at the marina.”
“This is how you saw me then? As a statue?”
His tone gave nothing away about what he was thinking. It wasn’t the most unflattering portrayal ever. At least it wasn’t a donkey. But it still painted him in a light that I now understood had never been accurate. He may have appeared as cold as metal, but that wasn’t who he’d been, even then.
“At that moment, yes. I couldn’t understand how you could say you were done being a Sharpe.” I snuck a glance at his face, and though his gaze was still fixed to the paper, his jaw had loosened and shoulders relaxed. “Not because of Vincent, but because of your brothers.”
He nodded in understanding. “You were quite passionate on that point, but you were also the voice of reason. I just wasn’t ready to hear it then.”
“It took me getting hit by a car to make you listen?”
Tristin finally looked at me, the icy aquamarine eyes of a couple of months ago nothing but a memory. Now, they were all sunny afternoons and white sand beaches. “Maybe it sounds lame, but, yes. When I got to you, there was so much blood, I was certain I’d lost you forever. Once I was done vomiting—”
“I’m sorry, what?” I couldn’t not interrupt after that.
He gave me a sheepish smile. “Not a fan of blood, remember? But it wasn’t just that. I literally couldn’t stomach the thought of life without you in it, especially because of something I’d done.”
“The accident was just that—an accident. It wasn’t your fault.”
Placing a hand on my thigh, as though he couldn’t not touch me, he replied, “Maybe not, but you only ran away because I drove you to it. And I was more determined than ever to get the hell out of Moss Harbor, if only to protect you from my stupidity.”
My chest clenched. “You were going to leave? Even after seeing me like that?”
He nodded solemnly. “Until Leo told me to get my head out of my ass, because you needed us.” He squeezed my leg. “Even though it wasn’t true. You didn’t need us, even after you were released from the hospital. We were the ones who needed—need—you. That’s how it’s always been.”