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Chapter Four cont’d As the later morning drew on, Hadley woke to the aroma of food cooking. Sometime after another thrilling session of who could top who, they fell asleep against the pillows. The clock displayed it was almost ten. With great reluctance she crawled out of the huge bed and followed the delicious scent down the hallway. The television set was turned down low and naturally fixed on Sports Center. A broadcaster could have been speaking gibberish for all she knew, but it captured Marcus’ attention as he stirred eggs in a frying pan. Even from the kitchen he grumbled to the announcer as if he could be heard. “You try breaking through that line when you’re not blocked. Fucking idiot.” Hadley had a quiet stride when she walked and for some reason, she wished her feet had been a little louder coming into the room. Marcus had a stream of obscenities for the announcer and turned to face the screen waving a wooden spoon, but came up short at the sight of her. She leaned against the wall leading into the kitchen, wearing his pale blue dress shirt from last night. The buttons were all together except for a sweet opening at the base of her throat. Instead of ranting at the screen, he dropped his hand to his side the spoon and spoke wickedly. “Sleep well?” Sauntering over, she smiled up into his face before looking at what he was cooking. “Meh, it was okay. I kept getting woken up.” Marcus wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck as he stirred the eggs, making sure everything was cooked through. His lips were nipping a tender spot he had been obsessed with in bed, a spot that she would kill him over if it had a mark later that day. Or maybe dig her nails deeper into his skin the next time. Pressing her back into his chest to enjoy the warmth of his body around hers, all of her typical responses were lulled by their open display. “Funny, I did too.” “What are you making?” “I was making breakfast in bed, but seeing as you’re up that defeats the purpose.” Marcus handed her the wooden spoon while he fetched her a cup of coffee and refilled his own. “Sure does.” She gladly accepted the coffee before he guided her away from the stove and made her sit at the bar so he could plate up the scramble he’d made. Even at the stove, he moved with a grace she associated with him catching passes on the field. As he sat at her side, Hadley’s eyes kept glancing over at the clock on the wall and back to Marcus in their breakfast nook. Today was the only day where she had a full day to brush off the canvas and make sure the painting was gallery ready. A familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach kept her from eating much more than a couple of forkfuls while he scarfed down two plates. When he came back to the bar to refill her coffee, he finally caught on that she was a million miles away. “Earth to Hadley.” “Hmm? I’m sorry, what bursa escort did you say?” Marcus laughed, “I was asking when you needed to get to the studio. You did say several times this week, and I quote, ‘today was the day of no distractions.’” Shaking her head, she laughed at his imitation of her. “You are such an ass. I did say that didn’t I?” “Yeah you did. Can I see the painting when I drop you off?” “You want to see it?” He shrugged his shoulders while washing the pan. “Sure, you’ve been talking about it for a couple of weeks. It’s important to you.” It was important to her, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him. “You aren’t going to like it, I can guarantee it.” Marcus turned to look at her searchingly. “It doesn’t matter if I like it or not, you worked hard on it. You hate sports but you’ll watch a game.” He had her, and knew it. All week she had been venting to him about whether or not her work would get shown in her new city. Confidence wasn’t something she lacked in, but this was her first presentation in Chicago and she didn’t know what to expect. When Marcus asked if she wanted him there for her at the appointment she stalled, only to say no. it wasn’t like her to fall back on anyone and she didn’t want a single person, especially him, to see if she was rejected. A little over an hour later, Marcus stood behind her as she unlocked the doors to the studio and slowly let him inside. The last time he had been to visit was when the roof was leaking, and that had been several weeks before. Since then she had finished a couple of pieces for clients and shipped them off. For the gallery display, the painting was something she had to create on her own without ideas or personal visions. She had dug deep within herself, pulling from every creative corner, making something that represented raw freedom and a personal sense of beauty. The studio itself was small, so small that Marcus felt out of place. Standing over six-two with two hundred and five pounds that was all muscle but could glide easily, he felt cramped. Standing in the cramped space filled with easels and small tubs of paint, he couldn’t help but think that he had invaded Hadley’s mind. His eyes darted from side to side, catching glimpses of paint flecks on the ratty wood floors. The walls were impeccably white; the sight made him smile and then also laugh at the random canvas that hung on the wall where she smeared excess paint from each of her bushes. While she went to grab the gallery canvas, he looked over the different strokes of paint. Several types of green roamed down the ridged material. On the floor lay a cup filled with several different sizes of brushes that were amazingly clean. In the kitchenette, she had converted the little space into a cleaning area. Brushes lined the countertop on paper towels to dry. Every inch was used, whether bursa escort bayan as a cleaning section or a color creation spot. Hadley did not believe in wasting anything. As he took in this small studio, Marcus felt as if he had entered the guarded mind of the one woman he desperately wanted to keep unguarded free. Huddled in a corner, Hadley was struggling with moving a three foot long canvas that held a medley of colors. Marcus rushed over to her when she cursed out loud. Together they leaned the painting against the wall. Hadley stepped walked away to grab some paper to wrap around the piece, protecting it while she got from the studio to the gallery. As she had her back turned away, Marcus took a minute to take in the brooding picture that was displayed. Heavy colors covered the canvas, deep browns and morbid reds slashed down the matting. The painting was filled with anger and frustration but brimmed with an explosion of something new. In the center, thick aluminum pieces were bunched together, the harsh panels of red that poured out of the gold foil reminding him of scarlet ribbons trailing a textured balloon. Marcus stared at the piece and couldn’t believe that it had come from Hadley, someone who embodied life and was the exact opposite of what she had created. His concentration was jarred as she blew out a breath behind him. In a soft voice that was hardly recognizable, she spoke. “What do you think?” He didn’t know how to respond. If he told her what his thoughts were, she would slug him. If not, he knew she would gladly reach for several of the paint brushes and shove them down his throat. Instead, he attempted in keeping his thoughts vague. “It’s interesting.” Turning around to look at her, he was stunned to see her looking so unsure. Her eyes were focused on the painting, one of her hands toying with the horseshoe charm on her necklace. Several minutes of silence passed between them before she looked up at him with wonder in her eyes. “Go ahead, say what you really think.” Bringing a hand to the back of her neck, Marcus rubbed the soft skin and continued to look at the art. A part of him wished he held back, but the other part wanted to explore her. “What were you thinking about when you painted this?” The muscles in her neck were tight, his fingers massaging the skin only made it tighter. “A bunch of different things. I kept thinking about the way things were before and then starting over. In heartache comes rebirth, I guess I wanted to show that, only it came out in such a dark way. I made another piece that’s over by the window, but this one is bolder. It has a voice.” The piece itself was much more than that, but she didn’t want to say out loud just how much it meant to her. She had struggled her entire life, and for a long while she had been living for everyone around her. Helping escort bursa people who struggled to get by, but damn little did anyone do for her as she experienced hard times. This piece represented her own breakout, the power of taking charge. There was something about Marcus that made her feel comfortable to her bones, she fed off of his confidence that was sure and true and used it to release hard feelings she had kept within. When she started this canvas, it had been blank. One night he called her from a fundraising event to have her cheer him up, something in the phone call broke through with her and that night she stayed up sketching. That sketch turned into the piece she would be showing. “I don’t have a lot to compare it to, but….” He stammered trying to word his thoughts properly. “It’s really sad.” “What do you mean sad?” Marcus pointed to the vibrant reds falling away from the crinkled gold aluminum in the center. “It’s beautiful, Hadley. It really is.” “Then why did you say it looks sad?” Looking down at her he tried to read her eyes that were pained. “I don’t know, the colors of it maybe. They’re cut deep, it looks like a world of hurt.” Her shoulders slumped, breath pouring out of her. “You don’t like it.” “It’s not that I don’t like it, I do.” “Don’t sugar coat it, Marcus. Say what you mean.” Raising his hands up at her, he took a step back. “I just did. I like it, Hadley. I can’t believe you made this, it’s unexpected, that’s all.” Her brows bunched together in frustration and worry. “That’s it?” Pointing to the piece by the windows, he spoke forcefully. “That one looks like the day where this one is more of what goes on at night.” She stared at him and couldn’t figure out where she had gone wrong, if she had at all with the painting. Was it sad? Gathering her in his arms, he held her close and dropped his face to her neck. She smelled sweet and spicy; a scent that he couldn’t seem to get enough of. Her body remained firm in the embrace. “Stop thinking about putting yourself down, it’s provoking.” His breath soft against the skin caused her to shiver. “They’re going to love it.” **** The cab ride out to the gallery in Lincoln Park took forever. Hadley’s heel tapped the back of the driver’s seat until they finally pulled up. With a deep breath, she got out of the cab and screamed as it started to drive away before she could open the other side and grab her artwork. The driver shrugged off her verbal assault and she hoped that nobody heard her antics apart from the people walking along the street. The canvas was heavy, and being as small as she was, she was thankful for the cab. There was no way she would have carried that thing around on a crowded bus, no matter how desperate she was. Marcus had left shortly after his confession about the piece. After hearing his thoughts, she wanted to cry. He didn’t know how to censor himself, or maybe he didn’t want to. Rather than walking him down to his SUV, she left him at the door without so much as a kiss goodbye. Tears streamed down her face as she worried about whether or not to believe if he liked the painting.