Read No Easy Choices (A New Adult Romance) for Free Online

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                  “This one,” Javier said, pointing to the Picasso, “the artist paint for my grandfather. Special for him. And this one, by Dali, my grandfather receive as gift from the United Nations.” I stared in awe at the original works by some of the recent masters, not even letting my eyes wander to the Monet for the moment.
                  “And how do you explain this one?” I teased, pointing to the impressionist scene of lily pads on the water.
                  “Oh, that one we like, so we buy it. It was in the garage for years, so I bring it to school to make me think of my home. But you like these?”
                  “Of course! They’re unbelievable! You’re unbelievable!” At that moment, I forgot all about leaving home or meeting what the Thetas considered to be the “wrong” kind of boy. I just stood mesmerized by his incredible paintings.
                  “You know much about the paintings?” he asked, almost surprised, like he thought I wouldn’t have any clue.
                  “Well, I spent last year at an art school in Paris. My hometown didn’t really have a lot of opportunities for art. We didn’t even have a full-time art teacher. And since I wanted to major in art, my parents let me spend the year after high school in an art program. We did a lot of instruction, but then got to do a lot of traveling to museums and stuff. I’ve seen works by these guys before, but never this close! I was always on the other side of a velvet rope. This is so cool,” I finally said quietly, my words having rushed out of me all at once.
                  “Then I am glad you see them today. I am glad you are here.” Javier came and stood behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. For a split second I was alarmed again, but he did nothing more than rest his chin on top of my head and let me marvel at the paintings some more. I took my time, soaking in the colors and the shapes, while Javier stood behind me silently and let me enjoy them. Somewhere in the apartment, a timer went off and Javier excused himself to check on dinner.
                  This would have been a fantastic time to snoop around his bedroom, or at the very least, to check out the luxurious bathroom I could see now that I was standing in his room. Seriously? Who in the world gets to have a jetted tub in his apartment while still in college? Oh, I don’t know, maybe the guy who has three world-famous paintings hanging in that same apartment! But I couldn’t take my eyes off the paintings, and couldn’t comprehend the fact that I was in the same room with canvases that those artists had touched.
                  When I recovered, I walked back out to the living room where Javier had put out the full spread of dinner. There was chicken in some kind of coconutty sauce and something that he said was carne asada. There was more beer to go with it, but he must have sensed how I had to choke down the first one because Javier also brought some carbonated water. Just the fragrance of the meal was enough to knock me down, I couldn’t wait to actually taste it.
                  “How did you learn to cook so well?” I asked in between bites, trying to remember to use the most simple words and not throw in some slang that might be confusing.
                  “My grandmother insist all the children in our family learn to cook. She lived through very, very bad times in Colombia, and she demand that we all can take care of ourselves. Because life is too uncertain.”
                  “Well, that is very good advice,” I agreed, scooping up more of the chicken and fighting the urge to rub it on my skin to save the scent for later. Okay, not really, but it did cross my mind that this would be an absolutely intoxicating cologne, not that Javier needed any more reason