Becoming Us (COMPLETE)

*Eleven*

Two hours later, Trae and I were climbing into an Uber on our way to Vanzant's to retrieve Trae's car.

I'd bathed and dressed in my jeans and his tee. Trae had gotten himself cleaned up in the spare bathroom and made us breakfast—pancakes and strawberries.

After eating, he'd insisted on washing the few dishes, which left me sitting on a barstool admiring him from behind. It was possible I'd found the best man on the planet—which might be fair since I'd already wasted three years on the worst. Maybe Trae was a gift from karma.

I snorted at the thought, drawing Trae's attention as he closed the car door. "What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing. I'm just happy."

As the driver reversed onto the road, Trae took my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Me too, baby." His eyes ran over me and he leaned over to nibble my ear, and whisper, "I really like you in my clothes."

My cheeks warmed at the compliment. "Thanks for letting me borrow it." Trae just winked and kissed the back of my hand.

As the driver turned at the end of Trae's street onto the main road, I realized where we were. "Hey! My friend has a gym a couple of miles from here."

"Oh, yeah?"

I nodded. "He's a personal trainer. His uncle owns the place, and he's been working there since we were teenagers."

"You mean Lift?"

"Yep!"

"I tried it out when I first moved here, but I'm not really a gym person. I'd rather be outside."

"Me too," I agreed and then wrinkled my nose as I thought it over. "Well, when the weather's nice, and there aren't too many mosquitoes, and there's a clean bathroom at a reasonable distance."

A laugh burst from Trae. "So, a few days a year, a short hike might be nice?"

"Pretty much." I giggled.

A few minutes later, we'd switched from the Uber to Tre's car and drove to Tre's studio. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" he asked.

"Definitely! I'm excited to see Canvas Creations."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid it's not as exciting as you expect. The children's lesson will be going on."

"Oh! I don't want to disturb things if it'll be a problem?"

"Not at all. There'll just be about thirty kids in there painting ducklings."

My eyes widened. "That sounds adorable. I'm even more excited now."

He chuckled. "Okay, great!"

Twenty minutes later, Tre parked behind a freestanding brick building covered in artwork. The front had graffiti style lettering beside the door that read Canvas Creations, and he'd covered the other three sides in a mural of wildflowers and a sunny sky.

We snuck in the backdoor so we wouldn't interrupt class, and the sharp odor of tempera paint hit my nose as soon as I stepped inside. Memories of noisy elementary school art classes filled my mind.

Tre held my hand as he led me through a storage area to a reception desk that sat behind the students. One wall was lined with large sinks covered in splotches of paint. The rest of the space was taken up by rows of long tables. Each table was covered with easels, pallets of paint, and brushes of different sizes. In front of each canvas sat a child on a stool wearing the cutest little smock.

The low hum of voices was surprisingly quiet for so many children who seemed to range in age from about six to twelve. This was not the rowdy art class of my memory. These kids were here to learn.