“You can even get on and ride, if you want.” Her voice rises with suggestion.

“Absolutely! I can’t believe I’ve been such an ass. If you want to, Lo, you can totally come check it out. Ride around with us.”

I casually lift a shoulder. “Mercedes and I went on a path out back a few weeks ago, but I think I’m better being a spectator. The whole balancing thing has never been something I’ve excelled at.”

“You’re going to be my new project! You’re going to love it, Lo. We’ll get you comfortable and then let you experience some really sick shit that will make you fall so in love with it, you may forget your art.” Summer’s eyes flare with Kash’s proclamation.

“I don’t know how great of a nanny I’ll be in a full body cast,” I tease while taking a few steps back toward the hall.

“Don’t worry. You’ll start off on the little track, work your way up.” Kash’s voice is calm and measured, his attention back on the computer screen as he flips to the next picture. “But seriously, I want your opinion on more of these pictures. I was thinking of having you do some sort of black and white drawing or painting. I don’t want it super clean. You know that sketch you had of all the hands? I want something like that with the harsh angles, all straight lines that still somehow seemed … I don’t know how to explain it…” He turns in his seat to look at me, his brows furrowed, seeking an explanation or designation. “It was like harsh lines, but you could still see curves and almost a softness even though it wasn’t.”

I shouldn’t be enjoying his description and appreciation of my work nearly as much as I am, but his lack of knowledge and technical jargon makes his accolade seem far more superior than those from my professors that often feel recycled and overused. Kash smiles and shakes his head. “I don’t know how you do it.” He turns back to the screen, but King’s and Summer’s eyes are both on me, sparking a familiar sense of unease that has me taking another step back.

“You doodle?” My jaw clenches at Summer’s inquiry. This is one of the questions I have always loathed, more so when it comes from another person who likes the arts. It’s as though they’re looking for validation to see if I’m good enough at what I do to be considered an artist when really, who sets that criteria?

“I study art.”

Kash’s eyes move from the screen to my face, his eyebrows drawn. “You live it.” He turns toward Summer so I can’t see his expression. “Seriously, her art is amazing. I think she could make a really cool logo graphic to replace the current one we’re working with.”

“I thought you were going to have the team in Switzerland work on that?” Summer’s discomfort with involving me is evident in the softness of her voice.

“I don’t know. I can’t get her work out of my head. I want her to paint every wall in this house.”

Summer’s eyes flash to mine and her lips purse ever so slightly. “If you want to meet up, we can go over the branding materials. I can be pretty flexible with my schedule since I know you have like four jobs.”

My head shakes as I work to suppress my concerns of Summer thinking of me as competition for Kash, finding her fear almost humorous. “Why don’t you guys discuss the other option first? I’m truly flattered, but I don’t do marketing and logos. I don’t even—”

“Stop selling yourself short. Meet with Summer. You guys can go have coffee or go to dinner or whatever, on me. Summer can fill you in on what we’re gearing toward, and I want you to show her some of your work so she can see how good you are.”

“We can go next week.”

I turn to Summer, reading her indecision, envy, anger, and defeat even though she doesn’t hesitate to extend the invitation. It makes me feel guilty and reminds me just how tightly knit this group is. “Yeah. No problem.” I hope she’s putting it out till next week to allow enough time to think of a good excuse to cancel, or at lease postpone, until Kash changes his mind.

“Look at these,” Kash says, oblivious to our exchange.

I approach the desk again, standing a foot from King’s shoulder because he’s the closest one to the door. Kash clicks to the next image. It’s an image of him upside down, holding his bike in place with just a single hand. The shot is amazing, capturing movement and the adrenaline rush he was feeling, but the finished photo has been softened so that it almost looks like a blurred thought.

“Is it an illusion?”

King shifts, looking over his shoulder at me. His lips nearly draw my full attention as they part. He grips the back of a chair, and I glance over to see the familiar scar that runs along the knuckle of his index finger. “This is supposed to look like a dream sequence.” I process his words seconds after they’re spoken because I’m realizing the scent I have been catching while doing laundry is his.

“That’s a cool concept. I doubt many people can do … that,” I finish lamely, pointing to the monitor.

“Don’t worry, Lo, we’ll have you doing some awesome shit by summer. Just you wait.” Kash’s grin stretches from ear to ear as he looks back at me. “Wait until you see this next one. It’s my favorite.”

The bike is midair and he’s parallel to it, as if doing a pushup off the handlebars. It makes my eyes grow wider with disbelief. “That’s amazing.”

“Get your sketchpad, Lo,” Kash says, his attention remaining on the screen. “We’ll hammer this shit out now.”

“I have to get going actually, but if you send me some of your favorite pictures, I can try to create something.”

“Cool, okay, I’ll text you then,” Kash says, still lost in thought. I doubt he’ll remember this conversation tomorrow based upon his attention.

“Sounds good. Um, Mercedes is working on a report in the dining room, I made her a deal that if she finished it tonight instead of waiting until Friday, I’d ride bikes with her tomorrow.”

Kash’s attention is torn from the screen, his lips turned up in a grin. “You’re getting on a bike tomorrow?”

“Well, that depends on Mercedes, but yeah, it looks that way.”

“We have that fucking meeting tomorrow with Spencer,” Kash groans.

King shrugs, his attention shifting to me for a split second before moving away again, like he can’t be bothered with looking at me—he’s been doing this a lot lately. “I’m sure we can move it.”

Kash grips his baseball hat and lifts the bill, leaving it raised as he scratches his forehead. “We can’t. We’ve canceled on him the last three times. He’ll start taking it personally if we do it again.”

“I’ll be here,” Summer volunteers. “I can show her around.”

“You guys know I’m planning to just coast around the perimeter, right? None of that…” I lift my hand to indicate the screen still showing the impossible move. I notice the corner of King’s lips tip upward before he moves so I can’t see his face.

“That’s okay. It’ll get you warmed up so you’re ready to start doing shit like this soon enough,” Kash says, pushing his chair back.

I raise my eyebrows but don’t argue. I know what it’s like to believe everyone should be as passionate about what you love as you are, but I’m sure like me, he realizes that is often untrue.

“See you guys later.” I wave as I take a step back, watching each of their reactions to my departure: King looks indifferent, his face still hidden as he looks to the monitor, though his shoulders look tight. Kash looks slightly disappointed by the news, his eyes on me as he smiles warmly. Summer looks relieved, her posture becoming more relaxed as she takes a fleeting look in my direction.

I turn and try not to think about any of their expressions as I make my way down the long driveway.

“YOU AREN’T still looking for the Knight residence, are you?” I turn and notice the owner of the lime green house, the one who gave me directions my first day, out in his front yard. It stalls my steps when he takes a few in my direction.