Outside the Lines (Rebel Hearts #1) (16 page)

My eyes widen. “I didn’t insult your work, did I?”

He laughs again, and fuck, I love when he does. “No, you didn’t insult anything. And I take criticism really well. I know not everyone is going to like something I make. You can’t please everyone anyway, so why try?”

“Very true,” I reply and his statement resonates deep inside. I take the words personally, thinking of how it’s taken me years to figure that out.
 

You can’t please everyone.
 

Not in art, not in life. Why waste the time and emotion fretting about it?
 

“Haters gonna hate,” I say and lace my fingers through Ben’s. We continue walking the path. “Life is too short to worry like that, ya know? It took me a while to realize that, to be honest, but I like doing my own thing. It makes me happy, so who cares what others think, right?”

He pulls me in for a kiss. “Exactly.”
 

CHAPTER TEN

Ben lives in the historic district of Grand Rapids. It’s yet another place I’d heard of but hadn’t invested the time into seeing. There are historic home tours I meant to go on, but forgot. And it’s not like I can just go knocking on doors. Though I have driven down his road a time or two.
 

His house is one of the larger old homes, and he tells me it was built in the early 1900s. He parks around back, inside a detached garage. The sun is setting, but when we get out, I slow.
 

“Wow,” I say and look up at the large, dark-gray Victorian house. “It’s beautiful.”
 

“Thanks,” he says and gives the house the same starry-eye look I’m giving it. “It’s been a lot of work restoring her, but I love it.”
 

Hearing him refer to his house as a female is oddly charming. “Was it in bad shape when you bought it?”

He shakes his head. “Not horrible shape, but the previous owners attempted to do a lot of upgrades themselves when they weren’t skilled enough to do so. I had to take a lot out and redo what could have been left original.”
 

He holds my hand as we go up the wooden steps of the back porch. They creak under my feet. The old wood has a new shine to it, and a cast-iron table and chairs are positioned against the house on the covered porch. I imagine waking up and having coffee out here, looking across the way at the other historic homes. Oh, I wonder if his house is haunted! That would be terrifying and neat at the same time.
 

A dog barks when Ben sticks the key in the door. Huh, that’s interesting. He’s never said anything about having to go home and let a dog out.
 

“Settle down, Harumi,” he says when he opens the door. A yellow lab shakes her tail so hard her whole body is wiggling. She wildly greets Ben like she hasn’t seen him for days, then comes over to me. “She’s very friendly,” he says with a smile. “She’ll lick you to death.”
 

I bend over, heavy purse falling forward. I drop it on the floor and pet the dog—Harumi, I think Ben called her. “You smell my kitty, don’t you?” I ask as she presses her nose all over me and inhales. “He’s going to smell you and be mad at me. But that’s okay. He’s an asshole anyway. It’ll serve him right.”
 

Ben holds the back door open and calls the dog out to go potty. I pick up my purse and look around. We entered in through a mud room. A washer, dryer, and ironing board are on one side, with a stack of neatly folded towels on top of the dryer. The other side houses a shoe rack. Most of the shoes are Ben’s, but I spot a few that belong to a woman. A woman with small feet, to be exact.
 

I take my shoes off and go through the mudroom, which emerges into a large kitchen. The cabinets and granite countertops are white, contrasting with the dark wooden floor. The backsplash above the sink looks like stained glass, no doubt handmade by Ben. Everything is neat and orderly, looking like something from a magazine. There is an oval breakfast table by a large window that looks out to the back porch. I can see Ben toss a ball for Harumi in the small yard.
 

I set my purse on a chair and stand by the breakfast table, watching Ben for a few seconds before turning to look at more of the house. I’m assuming the woodwork is all original, including the ornate crown molding. I can see a large dining room with a big table off of the kitchen, and a living room to the other side.

The house has that old feel to it, but it’s clean and smells like paint, which automatically reminds me of Ben and makes my heart go pitter-patter (and my insides tingle). I want to look around the rest of the house, channeling my inner Winchester and check it out for spirits, but don’t want to be rude.
 

Just then, the door opens and Harumi runs in, followed by Ben.

“I didn’t know you had a dog,” I say, petting the overly excited lab.
 

“Yeah,” he says. “She’s an easy keeper. She’s ten, don’t let her spastic behavior fool you, and sleeps a lot.”
 

“Awww, she looks good for ten!”
 

“Thanks,” he says and runs his hands over the dog’s head.

“This is one of the coolest houses I’ve ever been in,” I say and look around. “I love old houses.”
 

“They have character,” he tells me. “Want a tour?”

I eagerly nod. We go through the kitchen in the dining room. I recognize the artwork as Ben’s right away. I can’t really say he has a style, because everything is so different. But there is something so irrevocably
him
about it.
 

The dining room opens to the foyer, with a grand staircase front and center. It’s U-shaped, with a balcony looking down from the second floor. On the other side is a fancy living room, set up with period appropriate furniture and lots of bookshelves. The other living room that I saw through the kitchen is completely modern, and feels almost out of place. There’s a small bathroom tucked away near the basement stairs, and a sunroom in the back of the house. It has easels and other art supplies set up, with paint splattered cloths draped over the floor. The smell of paint is strong in here.
 

“I try to do most of my work at the studio,” he says. “But I bring work home with me.” He gives me a smile and turns to take me upstairs.
 

There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms up here. There must have been more bedroom at one point, because the master bathroom is so big I’m sure it used to be an entirely separate room.
 

“This is my room,” Ben says and waves his hand to his side. I peek in. This room is modern and normal too. Well, normal but still impressive. The bed is lazily made and there is a pile of laundry on the window seat, and a few dog toys on the floor. A stack of papers clutters his desk, burying his laptop, and the top drawer of his dresser isn’t closed all the way.
 

This looks more like the Ben I know.
 

“We’ll see more of that later,” he adds. “That’s a guest room that Harumi has taken over, a bathroom, and another bedroom. And that’s it.”
 

“It’s huge and really pretty,” I say, noticing that the last bedroom’s door is closed. If it’s just a guest room, he doesn’t need to show me it, really. But the other doors are open, so it seems odd … as well as his “art room” and his bedroom being messy like his office yet the rest of the house is spic-and-span. And I really want to know who took care of his dog when he spent the night at my house last weekend.
 

“Thanks,” he says. “I might be odd to say I see a house like a giant canvas. It can give off feelings just like a work of art.”
 

I can’t help but think what kind of feeling does my little condo give off? Shabby-geek? Is that even a thing? If not, it needs to be.

“Hungry?” he asks, turning back to the stairs.
 

“I pretty much will always answer yes to that,” I say with a smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t, but I’m not gonna lie.”
 

“I do always answer yes to that,” he says and jogs down the stairs. We go back into the kitchen and Ben opens the fridge. “I’m not really a good cook,” he says apologetically. “But I’ll try my best for you.”
 

“You’re sweet,” I tease. “And really, I appreciate it. But if you want to order pizza or something I won’t hold it against you.”
 

Ben considers. “Pizza does sound good. Extra cheese and pepperoni?”
 

“And breadsticks?”

“Always breadsticks.”
 

He orders the food and then we go into the modern living room to watch TV. He pulls me into his lap as soon as we sit on the couch. I snuggle close to him, breathing in his cologne and feeling his firm muscles press against me. I’m tempted to kiss him and slip my hand inside his pants, but know the pizza guy will be here soon and we’d have to break up the hanky-panky in a few.
 

“What do you want to watch?” I ask him.
 

“I don’t really care,” he says and leans over to kiss me. “Whatever you want to is fine with me.”
 

I take the remote and flip through the movie channels, finding the second Hobbit movie starting in a few minutes. “Have you seen the first one?” I ask.
 

“I’ve seen them all, and all the Lord of the Rings movies,” he replies and it takes all I have not to jump his bones right there. “And read the books.
The Hobbit
was my favorite book as a kid.”
 

I’m smiling and I can’t stop. “I loved—still love it too! I got in trouble in the seventh grade for reading it during class.”
 

“You really were a rebel in your day,” he jokes.
 

“Oh, the worse. Reading in class, sneaking comics into church, and then it all went to hell once I got a cell phone and computer. I was a girl on a mission and my mission was trouble.”
 

Ben’s laughing, eyes sparkling as he looks at me. “And now?”
 

“I only use my superpowers for good, remember?”

“Oh, right. How could I forget?”

“What games do you play?” I ask, eyeing the Xbox. He has a PlayStation too, thank God.
 

“I haven’t played much lately,” he confesses. “I’ve been busier than I thought. I like Halo.”
 

I slowly turn to him. “We can play for a bit.”
 

“You know how to play?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. And I’m good. I’ll probably kick your ass.”
 

“I doubt that,” Ben says, playfully elbowing me. “Loser gets naked?”

“Get ready to take your clothes off,” I challenge and straighten up.

He looks me up and down. “Yours will be hitting the floor first.”
 

“Sure, they will.”
 

He gets two controllers and pops in the game and sits close next to me. I haven’t played in a while but don’t doubt my skills. The virtual arena is my stomping ground. We get started and I again consider letting Ben think he’s the better player and beat me, but damn it, I just can’t. I’ve killed his character four times by the time the pizza gets here.

We set up the food on the coffee table, and Ben brings out beer from the fridge. We keep playing as we eat, getting louder and louder the more we get into the game, and the more beers we down.
 

Two hours later, we’re still playing, still drinking, and still having a blast. Ben’s phone rings and he takes his eyes off the TV.
 

“It’s my mom,” he says, letting me know why he’s ignoring the call.

“I don’t always answer my mother either,” I say. “Especially now because she keeps bugging me about my brother’s wedding that’s coming up.”

“When is he getting married?” Ben asks and shoots at me. I dodge out of the way just in time, but get hit by another player.
 

“Dammit!” I mutter. “The weekend after the fourth of July, but I don’t remember the exact date. I should know this. I’m in the wedding.”
 

Take that, cocksucker!
I kill the online player who shot me, hoping I can heal before I get hit again.
 

“Nice,” Ben says. “Are you close with your future sister-in-law?”

“Not at all,” I chortle. “She’s not a horrible person, but she’s not someone I’d be friends with if she wasn’t being legally bound to my family either.” I shake my head. “Even my brother says his fiancé is a bridezilla. There’s like over a month or so left until the wedding and she’s freaking out over RSVPs. Hence my mom calling. I don’t see why they even sent me an invitation. They know I’m going.”
 

Ben chuckles. “You didn’t RSVP for your own brother’s wedding?”

“I kinda lost the invite,” I admit. “But obviously I’ll be there. I wouldn’t have spent money on a bridesmaid dress just to blow it off.”
 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to a wedding,” Ben says. “My cousin got married two years ago, but that’s it. Most of my friends are already married or living up the single life with no intentions on settling down.”
 

“Same here,” I say. “My best friend got married like right out of college.” I risk my character standing still so I can grab the glass bottle from the coffee table and drink the last of my beer.
 

“Being in a wedding is fun,” he goes on. “If you like the person.”
 

“Hah, yes. Erin’s wedding was a blast. It was small yet very elegant with a subtle Star Wars theme.”
 

He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “How the hell do you have an elegant Star Wars wedding?”

I smile. “It was like a regular wedding but with small Star Wars stuff added throughout. Half of it probably went unnoticed by half the people. But things stick out when you’re a fan, ya know?”

“Yeah,” he says and I remember that he mixed up Star Trek and Star Wars when we first met. Ugh. Such a shame. “I’ve never been to a themed wedding.”
 

“I go back and forth with wanting one and wanting something classic,” I say, still focused on the game. “Something fairytale-ish would be perfect. Like Disney Princess approved. But honestly, I’m not too concerned about the decorations. That’s not what it’s about, right?”