Hung (Under Revision)

19: You Distract Me

Skye

Damn, I realize I didn't text Ava to say I wouldn't be home. Either Friday night or last night. I dig out my phone and text her.

It hadn't been my intention to stay over for one night, let alone two. But Liam gave me no choice, he was impossible to walk away from.

And it's not just his touch. We stayed up late every night, talking and laughing until we fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. I've never felt so connected to anyone.

Throwing myself into my art at such a young age meant I never bothered much with friendships. In college I was at least surrounded by lots of likeminded people, and I count them as good friends, but our connection was always art.

With Liam, the connection is much deeper. It's about me and him and nothing else.

By the end of the second evening, I realized how silly I was being, thinking his money would've turned him into a bad person.

Especially after everything he told me about his charity and his childhood. I can't imagine how hard it is to lose both your parents so young, and so suddenly, but to also have to drop out of school and support your sisters is heartbreaking.

We're sitting eating the breakfast that Liam made, again without even letting me help. It's a clear, bright morning and sunlight pours through the breakfast room window. A beam of light illuminates Liam's tattooed arm, the Laughing Cavalier image in particular.

"So, why the Laughing Cavalier?" I have to ask. "I mean, most people go for a Monet or Van Gogh, you have to be pretty arty to know of Frans Hals."

"I like the look on the smug bastard's face."

"He reminds you of you?"

"Very funny."

"But how do you even know about him? Are you going to tell me you have a degree in art history or something?"

"No degree, I told you: I'm a high school dropout."

I roll my eyes. "Fine. Don't tell me."

"When I started opening hotels in Europe, I lived in London. My place was around the corner from the Wallace Collection, and I used to go in whenever I needed to escape Kelso's bullshit."

"That's it?"

"Afraid so," he says, arching an eyebrow.

"I've always wanted to go to Europe to see the art collections and paint in the light of Provence."

"Are you free next weekend?"

"What?"

"Let's go. We can go to Provence or the Louvre in Paris, the Uffizi in Florence, your pick. I can only spare a couple of days this time, but as soon as the lawsuit's over we can go for as long as you want."

My heart is pounding. It's been my dream since I was a little kid to go to Europe and see all the art. I can't even comprehend his offer being reality. Would going make me a hypocrite? I wouldn't want Liam to tease me the entire time.

I can't contain my excitement anymore. With a smile I can't hide, I say, "I can't imagine how awesome that would be. I mean, that's something I've wanted for years, and now you're offering it like it's no big deal."

Liam reaches across the table and grips my hand. "I can't think of another way I'd rather spend my weekend than initiating you into the mile high club."

"Oh, I get it now."

"Don't say you don't want it."

"So anyway, in college, my friend Amy and I took a Greyhound to New York. We spent all day in The Met, slept in the grottiest hostel ever, spent another day at The Met, then caught an overnight bus home."