Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2) by Kimberly Rose

have to try that later. Then he told me to meet him in his garage the next day after school.
    I ran straight to Blue’s carport the next day as soon as the bus dropped me off. He pointed to an old rusted car taking up most of the space and told me if I helped him fix it up, I could have it when I turned sixteen. I was pissed. It was crap. That day though, Blue rescued me. He gave me a purpose and taught me how to take care of myself. I would never be able to thank him enough.
    “What are you up to, old man?” I asked sliding the yellow pencil back into the case with the other colors.
    “Heading out soon,” Blue mumbled around the cigarette that dangled from his mouth. “You should, too.”
    “Yeah.” I nodded. Blue knew I wouldn’t go home until he made me.
    He pulled the cigarette back out and nodded toward the desk. “Whatcha workin’ on over there?”
    “Just messin’ around,” I said and shifted in the chair, trying to hide the sketch behind me.
    “Messin’ around, my ass,” he mumbled and walked up to me bringing his thick tobacco scent with him. I relished the smell on a long inhale. I’d quit smoking a few years ago, but, unfortunately, I slipped up every now and again when I was really stressed. Right now, that rich fuckin’ sultry smell was seducing the hell outta me.
    “You’re shittin’ me,” Blue mumbled peeking over my shoulder. “Move outta the way, kid.” He shoved my shoulder moving me himself and picked up the drawing from the desk. “Ya turned her into a fuckin’ kindygarten project.”
    “I colored it in ol’ man. No big deal.” I grabbed the mermaid sketch from his hands and balled it up in my fist before tossing it into the trashcan.
    “You been drawing that same damn grayscale sketch since I’ve known ya, Marilyn,” I smiled at the nickname he’d called me since he found out my last name was Monroe, “and probably been carryin’ that picture of it in yer pocket even longer. If I knew any better, I’d say you’ve gone and met yourself a girl.” He chuckled to himself before turning to walk away.
    “I’ve met lots of girls, Blue,” I said looking at the distorted aquamarine tail out of the corner of my eye.
    “Ah, but none of ‘em have ever been yer mermaid now, have they?” He smirked at me and shoved the cigarette back into his mouth before walking out of the office door. “I’m out for a smoke,” he shouted back at me.
    “Obviously,” I mumbled turning back toward the desk.
    “I heard that, ya pussy pansy.” His voice echoed down the hall.
    “Go smoke, saggy balls,” I yelled back.
    “All those bitches sucked ‘em dry.” I tossed my head back and laughed. Fuckin’ Blue.
    The light from my cell phone on my desk caught my attention. I picked it up, still smiling to myself until I saw the message.
    “Fuck,” I whispered and raked my hands through my hair.
     
    Capri: Are we painting tomorrow?
     
    Twenty-four hours ago, I kissed her. Somewhere between the years of looking after her and the hours of thinking about her, I let my guard down. I got so caught up in wanting her that, for those few minutes when I held her face in my hands and got my first taste of her, I forgot how much she scared me.
    I drove the short distance home with my heart racing so quickly it skipped a beat a time or two. It felt like the time I bungee jumped on my eighteenth birthday. I was teetering off a ledge, about to jump. The only thing I could hear was the jackrabbit pace of my pulse, and my vision seemed to narrow and tighten in on a single pool of calm water below me. I wanted so badly to claim the victory of the fall down to the pool, but not knowing if I’d be the one to have the rope snap, sending me in an uncontrolled descent, was terrifying. Capri’s kiss was fuckin’ terrifying.
    I clicked on reply and began to type.
     
    Me: Of course. I can’t wait to see you.
     
    I read over the words, and my heart started to freak out again. I deleted them and typed