My Kind of Beautiful (Finding Love 2)
Page 52
We’re just finishing up with the police officer when the tow truck arrives. The guy quickly loads up my jeep and gives us a ride.
Luckily the garage has my size tire and I pay for two new ones. While we’re there, Alec has them change my oil and rotate my tires. Once my car is ready, we head home.
“I have somewhere I want to take you,” Alec says once we’re home. “Shower and dress in something nice.”
“Nice? Like a dress or just something without holes?”
Alec laughs. “A dress would be good.”
“What are we doing here?” I ask when we pull up in front of my mom’s paint studio and my dad’s gym—they’re located directly next to each other—and Alec kills the engine.
Ignoring my question, Alec says, “Wait here,” before he gets out and runs around the front of the hood and over to my side to open my door. He extends his hand to help me climb out—even though it has a sidestep he had installed so I could get in and out without breaking my neck—and kisses the top of my hand once I’m down.
I assume we’re going to visit one of my parents, so I’m confused when we bypass both of their places.
“I’ve known since I was nineteen years old that I was in love with you,” Alec says, stopping once we get around to the side of the building. He grants me a soft smile that has my insides twisting into knots. “You had snuck out of your mom’s paint studio and run over here. I followed you and watched while you painted the entire wall.” He nods toward the wall I graffitied years ago. Since my parents own the building, it’s never been painted over.
I laugh, recalling that day. It was the first time I graffitied a public wall and signed it using my moniker. “It was because you followed me, I got caught.” I roll my eyes, remembering how Uncle Mason went looking for Alec because he was supposed to be sparring with him but had disappeared.
“You painted the Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh,” Alec says, glancing up at the wall. “Do you remember why?” His eyes move back to meet mine.
The memory comes back to me like it was just yesterday. “A woman was visiting the paint studio and talked to my mom. When my mom asked how she was liking LA, she said she was disappointed because there were no stars in the sky. She said it’s supposed to be a city where people go to make their dreams come true, yet there wasn’t a single star to wish upon.” I smile sadly, remembering Zoe tell my mom that her mom had passed away years ago from cancer.
“Her name was Zoe, and she was looking for local businesses to participate in the charity gala to support cancer awareness. The Delilah Cross Wish Upon a Star Charity. Charlie donated several paintings to the gala to be auctioned off.” We were given tickets in exchange for her donation and attended the gala. It was the most beautiful event I’d ever been to. The entire theme was about wishing upon a star.
A wayward strand of hair falls in front of my eye, and Alec smiles softly, tucking it behind my ear. “When your dad came out and saw that you had recreated the Starry Night, he said you could’ve done that on a canvas for it to be auctioned off for the cause. That your graffiti on the wall couldn’t be sold. It was of no value. You stood right here with your hands on your hips and said, ‘My painting is worth more than a charity can raise. The city lacks all the beautiful stars, and now everyone who walks by will have a star to wish upon, so they can all make their dreams come true.’”
“I was like fifteen.” I laugh, remembering how inspired I was by her story. I knew I needed to paint it on something bigger than a two-by-two canvas.
“Your age didn’t matter,” Alec says, shaking his head. “It wasn’t even what you painted. It was your heart. It was how passionate you were about the meaning behind the painting. In that moment, I stopped seeing the messy, clumsy little girl with paint permanently in her hair and saw your beautiful soul. You’re like this ray of sunshine in a dark, cloudy world. It’s why Georgia gravitates toward you. You light up everyone’s life around you without even meaning to.”
Tears prick my eyes at his kind words because I definitely don’t see myself the way he sees me.
“And now you’re twenty-one and still drawing hope all over the walls of LA, and one day you’re going to figure out how to change the world, and I can’t wait to be there when you do.”