Read Everything Between Us for Free Online

Stella’s head whips around.
    Our eyes meet, and there’s this moment, this fraction of a second, when we’re not at war, when it’s just us, and neither of us has the wherewithal to armor up for battle. The strangest sense of want fills my chest. Not sexual desire, but a kind of craving all its own, much bigger than simple physical need. I’ve never felt it before, and I don’t even know what to call it. I just wish—
    “You’re early,” she says quietly. And then she squeezes her eyes shut. When they open, she’s loaded for bear, and I don’t have time to brace myself before she snaps, “Did you think my mom would hand you an extra ten for your trouble?”
    I suck in a long breath and let it out. “Good morning, Stella. Sleep well?” Those circles under her eyes certainly aren’t any lighter.
    “I never sleep well,” she mumbles. “How about you? Or do you spend your nights earning your keep?”
    Anger and frustration run hot in my veins, and my fingers clench around the handle of my toolbox. I’ve never been ashamed of this game I play. It’s how I got my start as an artist—slept with one of the cougars, got a commission, and did a fucking great painting that she hung where others could see. I was twenty-two when I began making my living as an artist, and not many people can do that. Some women use their attractiveness to boost their opportunities, so why can’t I? It doesn’t mean I’m not talented. It doesn’t mean … fuck, why am I trying to justify myself?
    “Yes, actually,” I say calmly. “I did spend my night earning my keep. I have a gallery show coming up, and I have to deliver three pieces by Friday.”
    The contemptuous curl of her lip evens out. “Oh.”
    I force myself not to smile as I set my toolbox down and pull out my charcoals. As I do, I see the set of brushes my parents got me for Christmas a few weeks ago. My fingers drift to them as my mom’s weird phone call slides to the front of my thoughts again. Something’s wrong. Something important enough for them to want to tell me in person, and urgent enough that they didn’t feel they could wait two days to do it. I swallow the lump in my throat and close the toolbox. Without turning around, I say, “I don’t suppose you’re ready to do some drawing?”
    “You’re delusional.”
    “I’ll take that as a no.”
    “You’re smarter than you look.”
    I turn around. “You’re starting to get redundant. Maybe you could think of something else to criticize? God knows there’s plenty.” I settle myself into my chair. We’re about twenty feet apart, but it might as well be miles.
    She’s got her knees pulled to her chest. She does this all the time, curling into a ball. It doesn’t look quite right. She’s meant to be stretched loose, those slender limbs splayed. I blink. I have no idea why I’m thinking about that. I focus on her face, her dark eyes and high cheekbones and narrow chin and full lips.
    “Care to give me some new material?” she asks.
    “You could get to know me and find out.” Wait—I don’t want that. I never want that.
    Her gaze is locked on to my face, but then it drops quickly to my chest. “No, thanks. Not worth the effort.”
    I let out a breath like she’s punched me, because that’s how it feels. I shouldn’t care. I usually let it roll off me. But today I’m worn thin. “Stella?”
    When she meets my eyes again, I swear I see a glimmer of regret. “What?” she asks.
    “Can we … not today? Tomorrow you can lay into me, but today … let’s just … be quiet, maybe? Could we do that?”
    “Why would I want to go easy on you?” Her voice is all jagged edges, but that’s why I’m looking into those deep brown eyes, because they give her away. She actually wants to know the answer to her question.
    “I’ve got something on my mind, and I’m not really up to your usual barrage of hatred and disdain.” I shouldn’t say this to her. It’s giving her more ammo.
    She’s