Mosaic (4 page)

The boy is pure perfection. And then he pulls off his shirt, and he’s just all lines and Vs. Oh, god, I’m shivering just typing this right now.

He got here on Friday, and the moment I saw him, all the days of us being apart hit me so hard, I could barely breathe. Seeing him… I confess, it’s possible I was momentarily blinded by the visceral need for him. It was overpowering. A little like going into one of those trances. Temporary insanity.

Luckily, Rachel had already packed her overnight bag and headed to Brad’s. I’m not convinced we would’ve cared if she was still in the house, our reunion was so intense.

Within seconds of him parking his car (that Beemer his dad gave him), I was in his arms. He carried me straight inside with our mouths stuck together and us all wrapped around each other like Asian contortionists. Or spaghetti. Or monkeys.

We sort of flew together then bumped back, knocking over the coffee table on our way to falling on the couch. I’m not sure the front door even made it closed before our clothes started flying. I barely had time to spread my hand over the round tattoo on his torso before he was driving my skirt higher, devouring my mouth, pushing my panties aside.

“I missed you so much,” Julian’s breath was hot against my skin, and I was pretty sure my body would combust if he paused for even a nanosecond.

“No, I’ve missed you,” I breathed, my fingers threading in his silky hair, inhaling his clean, beachy scent.

My stomach was painfully tight as the magnitude of missing him collided with the intense happiness of holding him again. We stretched and curled, trying to press our lips against every part of each other’s skin. He was pushing inside before I even registered how ready I was to welcome him.

Yeah, typing all this is pretty crazy now, but it was hot. The whole night was pretty much the same. At one point during it all, my eyes grew damp. I’d let myself think about how our time together was so short—less than two days and he’d be gone again on Sunday afternoon. I tried to smother the feeling, but a sob jerked in my chest. I was wrapped so tightly in his arms, clutched against his chest, that of course he felt it.

“Hey.” His voice was low as he smoothed my hair away from my face. His warm lips pressed against my brow, working his way down my temple to my cheek then my jaw before lifting up again and holding my gaze. I was powerless against those Kyser blue eyes.

“I love you.” It was a simple statement, but he said it with such conviction, it could’ve been a mandate. “This separation isn’t forever.”

My eyes were still burning with unshed tears, but I blinked them back and nodded. “I know.” My voice had the slightest tremble. “I love you, too.”

He hovered above me a few minutes more, holding my gaze, as if that simple act would somehow forge a concrete edifice of fact. We loved each other. What we were doing, being in college pursuing our dreams, was so important, but it was also temporary.

In the next breath our mouths were together again, and I’m not sure we would’ve left the duplex if Rachel and Brad hadn’t called and texted repeatedly, insisting we meet up with them for brunch at the Camellia Grill. It was the next morning, and we were lying beside each other on our backs.

“You’ve got it right over your bed.” Julian’s fingers lifted my curls off my shoulder. I turned into him, placing my cheek on his chest listening to his heartbeat. I was drowsy with happiness and love and pure bliss of holding him.

“Hmm?” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about at first, and I was reluctant to lift my head and break contact.

“I get it next semester, right?”

The watercolor. The one he’d made of us apart but held together by our dragonflies—I was wearing my ring, and I lifted his hand to slide my thumb over the little tattoo on his.

“Hmm,” I frowned. “If you take it, you’ll have to give me something to put in its place.”

He chuckled, and I did lift my head to press my lips against his skin. That’s when my phone buzzed. Rachel was texting again about meeting for brunch, and I knew Julian wanted to see Brad. The two had become almost inseparable by the end of senior year—just like their dads had been, although Julian didn’t know about that. Neither of them did. I was the only one who’d read those diaries.

“Rachel says ten. Can we make it?”

Julian stretched his arms up then kissed my head roughly before sitting all the way up. “Sure. I’ll just take a quick shower.”

“I’m right behind you,” I called as I punched in my reply. Glancing up, I caught his grin. “As soon as you’re done,” I added. I knew right where it would lead if I got in with him. Not that I minded, but I had just promised Rachel we’d meet them.

* * *

The heat of August in New Orleans is hard to describe if you’ve never felt it. Somehow it seems like humans shouldn’t be able to survive the conditions. It’s like trying to breathe hot water or living in a steam room, but I suppose if humans can survive sitting in a steam room, they can survive late summer in the Crescent City.

Rachel had the greatest hair for New Orleans, straight, blonde, always perfect. If it did anything, it picked up a slight wave that made her look all tousled and sexy. I tried not to hold it against her as I cinched my frizzy spirals into a tight knot at the back of my neck. She was parked beside Brad in a light blue sundress, smiling and drinking coffee. I was ready for a cup as well, only I’d be having the iced variety.

Brad looked up and saw us before she did, and it warmed my chest the way his expression changed at the sight of his friend.

“Whipped,” Brad called, sliding his arm around Rachel’s shoulders and giving a smug grin. “It’s been less than a month, and here you are. When are you transferring?”

Julian answered fast. “You’re one to talk.”

The guys slapped a handshake as I slid into the booth across from my roommate.

“So, how’s Georgia.” Brad’s loud voice reminded me a lot of his dad’s. “If you ever show up in anything Bulldogs, I’ll kick your ass.”

“When have I ever worn football shit?” Julian flipped the menu over, scanning it. “Anyway, I’m in Savannah, not Athens.”

“Right. How are all the gay bars in Savannah? Found one you liked yet?”

Julian exhaled before kissing my ear. “Why do football players always act like football players?” I couldn’t help a laugh. “What do you want?”

“Iced coffee,” I said, smiling up at the server who’d just appeared.

“He’ll have a skinny butterscotch Frappuccino latte.” Brad winked at the girl, who appeared to be our age.

“Oh,” she seemed confused. “We don’t have that—”

“Regular coffee.” Julian cut in, and Brad just laughed and asked for the same.

Rachel elbowed her boyfriend hard in the ribs. “If you’ll quit being a dick for five seconds, I want to know what Julian’s working on.” She leaned forward against the table. “Everybody’s got their eye on you, you know.”

Julian didn’t answer her right away, and instead fiddled with a sugar packet. “Yeah,” was all he said.

I was on instant alert. “Whoa, hang on.” Catching his upper arm, I pulled it toward me. “What’s this about? Aren’t you loving SCAD?”

Lifting his arm around my shoulder, he leaned back and looked at us all one by one. “Don’t wig and start acting like my mom.”

“What does that mean?” My voice was hesitant. I couldn’t imagine what he was about to tell us.

“It’s not that I don’t like SCAD. I just… I dropped a few art classes and replaced them with something different.”

We were all too stunned to speak, so Julian continued. “Hell, it’s not like I just said I have cancer. All I mean is I’m thinking about broadening my focus.”

I wasn’t sure how this news made me feel. I knew Julian so well, and he’d always had a plan. I knew he wouldn’t just ditch everything without a good backup.

“Broadening your focus?” I turned so I could see him better.

His smile was warm just before he traced his thumb over my cheek. “Yeah. I’m thinking about the future. I love art, but I’m looking at other ways to use it. More practical, real-life stuff.”

Rachel wasn’t letting him off that easy. “What did you replace them with?”

Brad cut in with a laugh. “Look out. She’s going to start pressuring you to go to law school.”

I exhaled a shaky laugh, knowing my roommate’s passion for her field. “We can talk about it later if you want. Or not?”

The thought of Julian not doing art was a pretty big shock. At the same time, he hadn’t said he was quitting. He was so calm about the whole thing.

“It’s okay,” he continued. “They have a lot of different programs, so I added a few architecture classes to my schedule. I’m also looking into development.”

A twinge of worry filled my stomach, and I wondered how much knowing his dad factored into his evolving plans. As far as I knew, Julian hadn’t told anyone about his connection to Bill Kyser. They were still tentatively building a friendship when we left for college. I wasn’t sure how often they spoke—I hadn’t even thought to ask. All I’d been thinking about was getting on my feet, making it to all my classes, and missing him.

Brad slapped the table with a laugh. “We’ll end up partners before it’s all over, you wait.”

Rachel and I both blinked at her boyfriend. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

His brow creased. “You didn’t think I chose Tulane to help me become a career football player, did you?”

Our waitress cut us off, placing coffees in front of Brad, Julian, and me. Then she straightened up, and we all ordered. I asked for Rano’s egg-white spinach omelet, while Julian got the pecan waffles. Brad selected the chili omelet and side of bacon, grits, and biscuits, while Rachel ordered the Manhattan, which was sort of like a Reuben-sandwich only made with eggs. As soon as our server left, we were back to the bombshell.

“What are you not telling me?” Rachel’s voice was stern.

“I’m looking at industrial engineering, business, it doesn’t matter what I major in, so long as it’s related to development.”

“I knew that,” she pressed.

“And when I graduate, I’m un-silencing Dad’s silent partnership in Kyser-Brennan and seeing where that might go with a little concentrated attention.”

It was all too much—way too coincidental that Brad would want to pull Julian into the same partnership their fathers had launched decades ago, before either of them were born.

Julian took his arm from behind me and leaned forward. “When the hell did you come up with this idea?” I could see a spark of enthusiasm. “And why didn’t you say anything about it to me?”

Brad just laughed. “For all I knew you were headed to New York to be the next Andy Warhol or some art crap like that. Now that I know your head’s in the game, we can make real plans.”

My brow creased as I watched them. It was surreal, like seeing the journals coming to life in front of me. “What plans?”

“Well, the old guys have been letting everything ride for years,” Brad started. “Jackie’s here pissing his time away partying too hard, but I’m betting if we talk, if he’s part of a real team with real direction…”

Brad kept going, but I couldn’t help the sick feeling in my throat at the mention of Jack. It was funny. Brad had been trying to get Jack to join him since that first football game last fall in Fairview, when Jack had first transferred to our school.

I glanced at Julian and saw the muscle in his jaw move. “You think he’d be up for something like that?”

“I know Will is.” Brad leaned back as the waitress and a busboy unloaded our orders. I reached for the salt while Julian poured the syrup.

Brad took a big bite of chili and continued. “Have you met their brother Will?”

Focusing on my omelet, I didn’t say a word. I’d met Will, and he was the biggest jerk I knew. I hated the thought of Julian working with him.

Julian shook his head no, and I tried to imagine how he was feeling in that moment, knowing this person was also his half-brother. Someone he’d never met, but only heard about through Lucy.

“I’ll introduce you to him, and we can see what we think. He’s kind of an arrogant prick, but he’s smart. He’s also been at it longer, so he’s got more connections. And he wants to reboot the business, too.”

Julian leaned back again, putting down his fork. “Look, I’m only trying things out, experimenting, seeing what’s interesting to me.” He studied his huge friend a beat. “Nothing’s set in stone yet.”

“Hey, no pressure!” Brad held up his hands, but he was grinning. I knew he was already working out a plan himself, and I was having a hard time figuring out how I felt about it all.

So much of what Brad described was history repeating itself, and while Julian knew a little bit of the story, he had no idea how much more was left for him to learn.

Brad was willing to put his ideas on pause, and we spent the rest of breakfast talking about senior year and how we’d spent the summer. A few more teasing comments, and finally we were settling the bill, saying goodbye and going our separate ways, with the two of us walking alone back to the duplex.

Julian’s arm was across my shoulder, and we were moving slow. I decided to tease him a little, hoping to get to the heart of how he felt. “Were you going to tell me about this architecture experiment?”