Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2) Read Free

it was full of volume. My pale hair tended to fall limply over my shoulders. The heat of the bar didn’t help any, either.
    “What don’t you know?” a familiar voice spoke from behind me. August stood behind Kensie and wrapped his arms around her giving her a tender kiss on the lips that lingered a bit too long for a sister to witness. I averted my eyes and looked at Lennon, who was curling her lips in mock disgust.
    “What colors to choose for the wedding,” Kensie told him once they’d finally parted.
    “What’d you think, Capri?” August asked. “You are the artist.”
    I twisted my lips. “I’m not an artist. I used to paint a little.”
    “A little?” I flinched as the unmistakable voice bounded up to me. “Dude, Augustus, remember when she painted her entire bedroom black? Steve’s pissivity level was off the charts.” Wes slid comfortably into the chair next to me, as I slunk back into mine.
    Lennon slapped her palms on the table and leaned toward me. “You painted your room black?”
    I pushed back further until the tiny splinters of wood in the chair back forced their way through my thin shirt and jabbed at my spine. “It’s not a big deal,” I said directing my attention around the room to avoid the four sets of eyes focusing on me. My pulse was quickening by the millisecond.
    “Not a big deal? I feel like I just found out T-Swift sings death metal!” Lennon shouted above the bar noise.
    “No, noo, nooo,” Wes whined dramatically, thumping his head on the table next to me. I almost laughed at him when Lennon’s own dramatics lingered.
    “Or that rainbows don’t exist!” The words fell from her mouth so casually.
    I flinched.
    I blinked. Hard.
    I kept my eyes trained on everything except the group. They bounced around the room with each thrum of my pulse pressing against my neck.
    Thrum. Rainbows.
    Thrum . Don’t.
    Thrum. Exist.
    My ears picked up on the groan of voices carrying on around me, but I could only hear those three words. This was exactly why I didn’t like being in the forefront. I’d much prefer to fade into the background where I was unnoticed. Where people didn’t ask questions. Where I didn’t have to avoid giving answers.
    On so many occasions in my life, I’d felt just like this—like a chameleon seeking escape and blending into the surrounding four walls, only to be forgotten.
    “Actually, dude, speaking of paint.” Wes’ voice broke through the fog in my head. I turned my attention back toward my friends but kept my eyes fixed on the martini glass between my fingertips.
    Wes settled back into his chair and let his oversized legs sprawl out underneath the table. His thigh brushed against mine so faintly most wouldn’t have noticed, but I was keenly aware of everything around me. I inhaled a shuddered breath and pulled my thigh away immediately as he continued to talk. “I need to push back working on the mural. Rocco from the shop was going to help me, but he broke his arm last weekend in some bar fight.”
    “Shit.” August tilted his head back in a hiss.
    “Sorry, dude, it’s just too much to do on my own.”
    “I need this thing done before the reopening,” August said leaning into Kensie, who moved her hand to rub his back. August was in the process of taking over as director of the San Diego Youth Center, or SYC. Upon his boss’s retirement, August had planned a grand reopening of sorts and had a list of upgrades he was making in the center in preparation. One of those was a giant mural on the wall of the gym he had asked Wes to paint.
    “Why doesn’t Capri help him?” I stiffened at Lennon’s suggestion from across the table. “You said she used to paint.”
    I shook my head quickly. No.
    “That’s a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that to begin with?” August said throwing his arms up in the air.
    “No, no, no,” I said waving my own hands out in front of me. Please, no. I couldn’t do this. Not with Wes.
    “C’mon, C.” Wes