Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)(67)
I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at him. “Then what did you mean?”
“Yeah.” Dino turned to fully face Gordie. “What’s wrong with art?”
Gordie swallowed hard. “It’s just all the…nakedness.”
“Nakedness?” Kiki’s voice squeaked. The corners of her lips twitched, her expression incredulous.
“On the sculptures. David hanging his junk out there. Not even sizable junk either. And those warped paintings of women with their eyes in the wrong place on their faces.”
“Michelangelo and Picasso.” Kiki folded her napkin, her gaze never leaving Gordie’s as amusement sparked in her eyes. “Total opposite spectrums of style. But those are only two examples of many of the greats. You should expand your horizons. Maybe we’ll go to the museum. I’d be happy to show you around.”
“Uh…” Gordie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then cleared his throat. “No, that’s okay.”
Dino shoved his shoulder hard enough that Gordie had to plant a hand on the table to prevent himself from toppling out of his chair. “Clear your ears out, Gordie. And straighten out your head. Kiki said she sculpted botanicals. You got a problem with her making naked flowers?”
Kiki finally burst out laughing.
Then everyone joined in but Gordie, whose cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “Sorry, Kiki. Didn’t mean to insult you. I’m sure you make pretty flowers.”
“It’s okay, Gordie.” Kiki’s expression softened at him. “You play beautiful saxophone.” Then she glanced at Dino before her gaze landed on me. “You three have an incredible sound. I’m honored to have had a chance to hear it tonight.”
Pride swelled in my chest again. That she’d loved our music so much. That she and my sister had stood their ground to these guys, and the guys respected them and me enough to fix the awkward art conversation. The night had gone better than I’d hoped.
“You should come to her class.” Logan arched a brow at Gordie.
“What class?” I frowned. Had I missed something?
“Oh, we just decided while you were playing,” Logan continued. “Kiki’s agreed to step in and teach an art class at the community center a couple times a week.”
“Really?” I glanced at Kiki, unable to believe it.
Not that I doubted my sister. Just…I’d been so afraid that bringing any woman into the mix of my chaotic life would spin it out of control. Apparently because that woman was Kiki, my life had not only begun to calm, but the benefits reached out and grabbed hold of Logan too.
“Yeah.” Kiki smiled up at me and gave a little shrug. “They need someone.” Her expression fell a little. “And I might have some free time on my hands soon.” She muttered, “And maybe need a place to stay.”
Determination roiled inside me. I leaned over and whispered fiercely. “You will not have free time on your hands soon. I plan to keep you plenty busy. And you will always have a place to stay.”
Her expression lightened with the tiniest bit of hope and a small smile. But then it faltered.
On a growl, I kissed her. Didn’t care about the audience. Didn’t matter about her worries of the impending deadline she faced.
Something in my gut told me we would figure it all out.
After all—we made it this far.
Kiki…
The next day, when I showed up at the community center for my first art class, it all clicked why the address Logan had given me after dinner looked so familiar. It was the same place where Darren worked out. We’d run for the first time on the track out back, done stadiums together.
Apprehension of the unknown—that had clenched my gut the whole way over—began to ease a bit as I stepped through those outer metal doors. And although Logan had instructed me to take a right at the first hallway, I kept going straight, then took a left, drawn toward the gym Darren had been in.
Would he be there now?
It struck me that the time of day was similar: Tuesday morning, 9:30 a.m. Same day of the week, nearly an hour later. Plus I’d shown up about thirty minutes early to take stock of my surroundings and the art supplies I had to work with.
But first, the propped-open metal door at the end of the hall held my interest. On occasion, a heavy grunt would filter out. When I stepped into the room, a guttural growl vibrated through the air, and my gaze shot to a guy on a weight bench who powered through the middle part of a bench press, arms shaking. A spotter above him barked unintelligible words at him until, with a low shout, he pushed the barbell all the way up. Then his spotter guided it onto the rack.
As I loitered in the doorway, my attention drifted toward the far corner. My breath caught the moment I saw him.
Eyes closed, Darren stood motionless, ear buds in his ears, arms extended at shoulder height out to each side, hands gripping the handles of his sand-filled metal pails.
I watched him, mesmerized. This was where he went to push his body, to calm his mind. For me, that was running. Maybe running did that for him too.
After several seconds of standing there, I felt time press in on me. My class was in twenty-five minutes. I turned around and backtracked down the hall, then took the turn toward the rooms Logan had told me about.
On the left, a closed door had a vertical window above its handle. Through the glass, I saw a group of about twenty people sitting in chairs that had been arranged in a circle. Logan sat on the far side with her black newsboy hat on. She faced my way, but a teenaged boy across from her kept her attention.