A Light in the Dark_Survival of the Fittest Read online

  “Hey, Brie.” Laurel stepped out from behind the till and followed her into the main studio.

  “Hey, what’re you still doing here?” Brie tucked her bag into a cabinet and started pulling easel’s into place in preparation for the night’s class.

  “There was a guy in here earlier this week,” Laurel hauled a cushion onto the raised platform in the center of the room where the model would be standing. “I kinda wanted to see if he’d show.”

  Brie chuckled. “Shame on you.”

  “No, Brie, you don’t understand. He was gorgeous.” She grasped her hands together in front of her chest. “In fact, you should see if he’d be interested in being the model.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Brie tore a soiled sheet of paper off the easel in front of her and surveyed the area. Nine sketchpads, stools, and easels stood at the ready.

  “He asked for your class specifically.”

  “That’s nice.” Brie took out her own sketchpad, only half listening to Laurel, and set her pencils on the desk beside her. This wasn’t the first time Laurel had been overly excited about one of their customers. There’d been the guy with the motorbike and then the one with the sinking ship tattoo—they had vastly different taste in men.

  With the pad balanced on her knee, she let her hand move in waves across the page. Class was her downtime. The last thing she wanted to do was gossip about some phantom guy.

  “You’re not hearing me, Brie. He didn’t ask for your kind of class, he asked after you. By name.”

  Brie stopped what she was doing and focused on Laurel. “Maybe someone recommended the class. It’s been known to happen.”

  “Brie,” Laurel huffed.

  “Laurel,” she mimicked back. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

  “Fine, but you’ll see what I’m talking about when he gets here.”

  Brie shook her head and returned to her drawing. The start of class and sometimes at the end she allowed herself a few minutes to play around at drawing. She wasn’t some great talent, but she enjoyed sketching and painting on the rare occasions she had the time.

  She wasn’t sure when she decided on the direction of her sketch or when she started humming, but when she paused and studied what she had so far, there was no denying it was taking on Bailey’s form. The curve of the lips, the sideways grin, the strong jawline, all Bailey.

  A few of the artists filtered in and unpacked their bags and when they did, Brie glanced up and offered a welcoming smile, but when Bailey walked through the door a moment later, she almost slid off the side of the desk where she’d been propped.

  As he sauntered her way, a huge grin on his face, she caught sight of the unfinished, but unmistakable drawing of his face and flipped the pad facedown.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  Laurel caught her eye from the doorway and silently pointed at him while mouthing, “That’s him.”

  “John mentioned your class and I thought I’d check it out. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Right, fine. Glad to have you.”

  He unhooked the bag from his shoulder and glanced at the setup. “Should I just sit anywhere?”

  “Sure.” The model walked in and dropped her bag on the floor near the mirrors. “I have to go give some direction, but it’s good to see you.”

  He grinned, and she darted in the direction of the door. She’d seen him in class since their evening on the bench, since the hand holding, but she hadn’t spoken to him. And now, there he was. Maybe if she’d been prepared to see him her stomach wouldn’t have flipped or maybe if she’d had a clue, but never in a million years had she expected Bailey to be the one Laurel had talked about. Sure, he was gorgeous as described, but she didn’t realize his interest in art went past the history. It wasn’t like he would pay for the class merely to see her.

  Regaining her composure, Brie paced behind the artists’ stools. “Tonight, we’re going to work on a full body nude.” She crossed her arms and then uncrossed them again while the model took her place on the raised platform and let the thin robe she’d been wearing fall. Brie wasn’t one to be a stickler for nudity, but standing in the same room with Bailey while they both stared at the naked female form made her feel exposed.

  She cleared her throat, “Make sure to pay attention to the curve of her hips and the dips near her collarbone.”

  The model took her place on the settee and draped her languid body across it with a grace that made Brie green with envy. She would never have that kind of courage, much less that body. With some effort she pushed all thoughts of Bailey and how he must be enjoying their subject matter aside. Besides, what did she care who he looked at? The model was, after all, a model. In his line of work, he’d probably dated a hundred of them.

  The sound of pencils scratching across paper filled the room. While those around her sketched, she moved between the artists offering encouragement and tips where she could. The model remained lounged across the heavy pillow, her body angled toward the back wall with her head turned so she could look back over her shoulder in a way that was both flirtatious and demure. The dip of her buttocks showed, but the thin sliver of fabric too small to be a scarf draped around her middle. There were a few exposed curves here and there, but never her entire body. The entire picture crated a sense of mystery.

  Brie moved to the front of the room and raised her arm in the direction of the model. “Raise your chin slightly, please.” The model did as asked. “You will all note the slope of her neck and the dip of her chin. Don’t lose one inside the other. Show definite lines.”

  She moved back behind everyone so not to disrupt their view. Bailey was only a few feet in front of her, but she couldn’t see much of his drawing. Due to his shoulders and the angle at which he was seated she could only see the model’s feet and shoulders. She tried to focus on what he was doing, but the movement of his back and shoulder muscles through his thin T-shirt as he worked were too diverting. Her fingers twitched as she pondered what it would feel like to run them along the width of his back. Focus.

  She shook her head and walked on. She wasn’t getting paid to fantasize about Bailey or his perfect shoulders. Not that someone would have to pay her. That she would do for free.

  At the end of the hour, everyone offered thanks and filed out except for Bailey and one particularly chatty woman who she’d been instructing for the better part of a year. While Rachelle talked about a new exhibit at the local gallery, Brie was keenly aware of Bailey’s presence.

  “I’ll do my best to make it.” Brie walked Rachelle to the door. “I hear he’s an amazing talent as well.”

  “Couldn’t you just die? And, right here in Oxford.” Rachelle did a little dip.

  “It’s pretty amazing. I’ll see you soon, okay?” Brie watched her disappear out the door and then glanced to see if Laurel was still lurking around. When she deemed they were alone in the building, she was both relieved and nervous. “So,” she said once she was back in the studio, “what’d you think?”

  “It was fun.” Bailey stood where he was with his bag already on his shoulder. “It was a nice break from studying and Cohen’s music.”

  “But, I thought he was a brilliant composer.”

  “Oh, he is when it’s going well, but sometimes . . .” Bailey lifted his arms to cover his ears and as he did so the few inches of skin between the hem of his shirt and his jeans was on full display. She could even make out the dip of the muscle between his hip and—

  “Brie?”

  “What? Right. Sorry.” She crossed her arms and raised a hand to twirl one of her earrings. “You were saying?”

  “I was just saying that Cohen’s great, but not until he gets it right and he’s a perfectionist. Sharing a wall with a perfectionist is about as much fun as you can imagine. And, based on the
string of words I heard last night, I’m starting to wonder if he has a little Irish in him.”

  Brie laughed. “Maybe so.”

  “Oh, and before I go,” he stepped forward and handed her the rolled-up paper he’d been holding. “I’ll see you in class.”

  “Yeah, see you.” She waited for him to get all the way outside before she unrolled the paper and she was glad she did. As she stretched out the drawing her mouth fell open. It wasn’t the model, it was her, as she’d stood in the front of the room giving direction. Only the model’s shoulders and feet could be seen, her face blurry. Brie, with her arm raised and her shawl hanging covered most of the model’s body. Somehow, he’d made Brie in her plainness seem, well, pretty. She couldn’t stop the pleasure from pulsing through her.

  The drawing was still clutched against her chest as she made her way home, closed the door, and leaned against it. Too lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t see Jessica before her flatmate saw her.

  “What are you grinning about?” Jessica abandoned the ice cream in her lap and climbed onto her knees. “What’s that?”

  “Here.” There was no reason to try to hide it from her. Jessica would find a way to discover what she wanted to know. She was unrelenting. Besides, Brie needed to talk to someone before she exploded.

  “Who did this? One of your students?”

  “Yes,” Brie paused to slip out of her jacket and scarf. “A new one.”

  “It’s good and flattering if you ask me.” Jessica slid back into a sitting position and continued to stare at the drawing, her face wistful. “I wish someone would sketch me. Who was this person?”

  Brie bit her lip. “It was Bailey.”

  Her roommate’s eyes went as round as saucers. “Bailey, Bailey?”

  “Yes. He was in class tonight.”

  “Wow.” Jessica studied the picture again. “And, after last week.”

  “I know,” Brie dropped onto the sofa and sent Jessica bouncing.

  “Girl, I don’t know how you’re going to make it to the end of the semester.” Jessica set the picture on the table so it was face up between them. “He’s working you hard.”

  She groaned. “I know and it’s working.” She’d dated before, but more often than not it was guys who she was friends with first. They’d fall into sort of an easy relationship, but not once had she been pursued.

  Jessica threw her head back and shouted, “I’m so jealous. I haven’t gotten laid in forever.”

  Brie sat up, “Me, either.”

  “Yeah, but at this rate you’ll be on your back the second you enter his grade into the computer.”

  Brie couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. “You’re probably right.” Her phone dinged inside her bag. She abandoned a sulking Jessica to dig it out and then frowned. The sight of Theo’s name wiped away her happiness and as she read his text, her stomach turned.

  “What?” Jessica held out her hand for the phone.

  Without saying a word, she handed it over and fought the sinking feeling tugging at her insides as Theo’s words spun around in hear head.

  We need to meet and it wouldn’t be wise to say no this time. Remember, a picture is worth a thousand words.

  “That son of a bitch. Ignore him, Brie. You can’t let him control you like this forever.”

  Brie shook her head. “No, not forever, but for now he’s got me and he knows it.”

  Chapter 10

  Bailey strummed his guitar and then paused to tune one of the strings. The air was cold on the porch, but he didn’t mind. For the first time in a long time he was enjoying the music. He strummed his fingers over the strings again and, pleased with the sound, played a riff from one of his favorite Guns N’ Roses songs.

  “Watch out, boys. B’s on point today.” Freddie nodded to Cohen and John and they took the hint and readied themselves at their respective instruments. Cohen’s fingers danced across the keys faster than what should be humanly possible and John strummed a few notes on the bass while Freddie tapped his digital drum set. They warmed up with Queen and then, as they played through Cohen’s piece, Jessica turned up and joined them.

  “Sounding good, gentlemen.”

  “That’s all Cohen,” Bailey nodded to the man of the hour. “He’s as talented as they come.”

  When Jessica offered Cohen a grin, he turned red from his neck to the roots of his hair. Poor bastard.

  “Where’s Brie today?” John asked saving Bailey from doing it himself. He hadn’t seen her since the drawing class, but even that short amount of time seemed long.

  And, it wasn’t merely that he wanted to see her. She was beautiful sure, but she was more than that. She was compassionate, and listened like few others. He could talk to her as himself instead of how people expected him to be. He glanced at Cohen and observed the way he was staring at Jessica. There was no denying he was no better off than Cohen. He suspected he looked at Brie the same way.

  A dark look flickered across Jessica’s features and then she cleared her throat. “She had something she had to do in town. She’ll be around later.”

  Bailey narrowed his eyes trying to decipher more, but Jessica wouldn’t meet his gaze. He tried to catch her eye, but was forced to abandon the idea when Freddie started up another song. He watched her while he played his part. Instead of her usual jovial self, she was distracted, worrying the hem of her sweater in a way he’d never seen her do. Again, he wondered where Brie was.

  Half an hour later when Jessica stood to leave, they called it quits. He set his guitar inside and stepped back out, ready to follow Jessica so he could ask her more without having to do so with an audience. He was aware she might tell him to butt out, but there was something in her face he couldn’t ignore.

  “Bailey,” John waved him over to join him and Cohen near the screen door, “Would you please try to help me talk some sense into our boy, Cohen, here?”

  Cohen elbowed his roommate in the stomach. “Shut up.”

  “Oh, come on, mate, Bailey knows you’re into her. Everyone knows.”

  Bailey nodded in agreement. “Yep, pretty much.”

  Cohen let his head fall back revealing day-old stubble down his neck. “Great.” Misery dripped from the word. “Does that include Jessica?”

  He was a man in love if Bailey had ever seen one. “No, man. I don’t think so.”

  “Good God, C. Ask the woman out already. Have some courage.”

  Cohen’s face turned a deep scarlet and then he shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Look at me. No one like Jessica would go for someone like me. She’s so . . . so her and I’m so,” he glanced down at his wrinkled shirt and thread bare pants, “me.”

  John and Bailey exchanged a glance. “You’ve got a point.”

  Cohen let his head fall against the keyboard, causing a painful combination of notes to screech through the speakers.

  Bailey suppressed a smile. “Listen, Cohen, you’ve got to act. Be the man. We’ll help you.”

  John’s eyebrow shot up in question. “Um, yeah. We’ll help.”

  “Oh yeah, Mr. Man,” Cohen squinted at the two of them, “and how are you going to do that?”

  Bailey glanced toward the road where Jessica was almost out of sight and rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know, but we’ll think of something.”

  “That’s super helpful.”

  John dropped a monster sized hand on Cohen’s shoulder. “No, B’s right. We’ll help. Just give us time to make a plan.”

  Bailey nodded and when they finally left to join Freddie back at their place, Bailey took off at a jog. At the memory of Jessica’s worried expression, a feral need to protect Brie flared. Whatever was going on wasn’t his business, but he couldn’t sit back and
do nothing if there was a way he might be able to help. He jogged faster.

  ~ ~ ~

  Brie tapped her foot as much to create warmth as to channel her over caffeinated body’s anxiety. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was meet her ex, but what could she do? He could destroy everything she’d worked for with a few keystrokes.

  Her head swiveled from right to left as her butt froze to the bench she was sitting on. In typical Theo fashion he was late, no doubt to make the point he was the one with the power. She glanced at her cell phone screen. There were two texts from Jess, but before she could read them a familiar whistle sounded on the air.

  She shuddered and wondered again as her greasy-haired ex emerged from behind a cloud of smoke. How she could’ve ever been involved with him? He smirked and then sat down beside her, close enough so that their thighs were touching, but she didn’t move. Instead, she ground her teeth together and stared him in the eye.

  “What do you need this time?”

  “Woah, is that any way to talk to your old man? I mean, come on, baby.” He flung the butt of his cigarette across the sidewalk and looped an arm around her shoulders.

  “Don’t touch me.” She put as much venom into her tone as she could muster when what she really wanted to do was punch him in the jaw. Where his touch had once been exciting, now she found it revolting much like the man himself. Her gaze travelled to where his paint-stained fingers were hanging over her shoulder until he removed them. “And, don’t call me baby. I’m not your baby or your anything else. Now, I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”

  He took his time in answering and she did her best, while he rubbed a hand over his bristled face, not to scream in frustration. She was tired of his games.

  “Now listen, Brie, there’s no reason we can’t talk like friends.”