All Chapters of A Sketch Away From Perfect: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

*Harper*Rafe is back in Minnesota to play the Vikings. It’s the first game I’ve gotten to see in person since we all went to San Francisco, and I’m so freaking excited! McKenzy is also buzzing with enthusiasm, bouncing from room to room while we get ready. “I’ve already picked out my outfit,” she announces from the bathroom, her voice echoing slightly. “It’s slutty, but I make it classy.”I laugh, standing in front of my closet, towel still wrapped around me. “I’m sure Rafe’s teammates will find you irresistible.”“They’d better,” she sings back. “It took a long time to find the perfect balance of the two!”By the time Damien’s sleek black car pulls up to our building, McKenzy and I are both looking fabulous. I went with a body-hugging red dress in the same shade as the 49ers uniforms because Rafe always says red is his favorite color on me. McKenzy, true to form, went for an off-the-shoulder mini-dress in glittering gold that makes her look like a human disco ball.Damien steps out

*Tomas*I don’t plan to take Harper to the salsa club tonight. It’s our place, our little pocket of rhythm and heat where we move together like our bodies were made to match. But it’s also somewhere Carmen knows I’ll be. And lately, I can’t shake the feeling that she isn’t done making trouble for us. So I call Harper and suggest something different.“A jazz club?” she repeats, sounding both surprised and intrigued.“Sí,” I say, smiling into the phone. “It’s not as spicy, but it has its own kind of heat. You’ll see.”She laughs, soft and sweet, and I already know tonight is going to be perfect.When I pull up to her apartment, she’s already waiting outside, wearing a silky black dress that clings to her curves like it was painted on. Her hair tumbles over her shoulders in soft waves, her lips painted a deep red that’s already staining my imagination.“Dios mío,” I murmur, stepping out to open the passenger door for her. “You are dangerous, mi preciosa.”She smiles, slow and knowing, an

*Harper*Flying with Damien never stops feeling opulent. The jet is sleek and perfect, just like everything he owns. The leather seats are softer than my actual bed, and the flight attendant knows my drink order before I even ask.Damien’s beside me, dressed too well for travel, effortlessly handsome in that “I own the world” way that still leaves me slightly breathless.I sip my champagne, curling my legs under me as the clouds drift past the window. “So, just out of curiosity, what do you think regular people do when they want to visit their boyfriend in another state?”Damien grins, stretching an arm across the back of my seat. “I have no idea.”I laugh, leaning into him, the bubbles already fizzing pleasantly in my bloodstream.Before long, we’ve landed and made our way through town to Levi’s Stadium. The place is loud and alive, fans decked out in red and gold, chanting and waving banners. Damien’s private box is, as always, the best seat in the house.Rafe looks incredible on th

*Harper*My third cup of coffee sits half-finished on the table, paint still clinging to the edges of my nails from a morning spent lost in my latest piece. McKenzy’s out running errands, the apartment is quiet, and I’m riding the kind of creative high that only comes when everything just clicks.I’m about to dip my brush into a streak of deep teal when my phone buzzes. I grab it without thinking, expecting McKenzy or Scott or maybe one of the guys.It’s the gallery in Chicago.My stomach flips.“Hello?” I answer, trying not to sound like someone who just inhaled a cinnamon roll while juggling a paintbrush between her teeth.“Harper! It’s Stephanie at the Whitney.” Her voice is bright, almost bubbly. That’s already a good sign.“Hi!” I tuck the phone between my ear and shoulder, scrambling for a notepad in case I need to write anything down.“I hope I’m not interrupting, but I wanted to call personally,” Stephanie says. “We’ve had some really wonderful interest in your work after that

*Harper*I’m practically vibrating with excitement when I burst into the apartment, nearly knocking poor McKenzy off the couch. She’s got paint in her hair, a bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap, and her laptop open to some DIY tutorial. The moment she sees my face, her eyes go wide.“Okay, what’s got you bouncing off the walls like a caffeinated squirrel?” she asks, grinning as she sets her popcorn aside.“We’re doing it!” I practically sing, spinning in a circle. “We’re having our art show. And it’s going to be huge.”McKenzy gasps and leaps off the couch to grab my hands. “Shut up. Are you serious? How did this happen?”“Damien,” I answer, breathless from my impromptu happy dance. “I mentioned it to him, and before I could even finish the sentence, he had this whole plan. He said he’s going to blast it all over social media and call in favors from every art critic, influencer, and high-society snob he knows.”McKenzy’s jaw drops. “Holy shit. You know what this means, right?”“That