Free The Boyfriend Sessions by Belinda Williams Page A

course.”
    I couldn’t remember the last time I’d shown anyone my non-work sketches. I’d often leave my books lying around, untidy as I was, so Maddy or Cate would occasionally get a look, but it was never at their request.
    After a while, Max blew out a long breath and handed the book back to me. “They’re beyond words, Christa.”
    I felt my face color and quickly bent down to stuff the book into backpack. By the time I rose, I was more at ease and we set off toward the meeting point for our boot camp session.
    “Have you ever done anything with them?” Max asked casually as we strode along.
    “Like pitched them to someone or sold them? No.”
    “Can I ask why?”
    His question was perfectly logical, but it floored me for a moment. The truth was, I’d never thought to. “Because they’ve always just been for me,” I replied quietly. “If that makes sense.”
    “Perfect sense. How do you come up with your ideas?”
    “Honestly? I’m not sure. They just come to me.”
    It was a vague answer, but it was the best I could do when put on the spot.
    It still amazed me that my creations came from my own hand, my own mind. I remained at a loss to describe the process and how it actually occurred. All I knew was that I’d have the seed of something in my mind and when I started to put it to paper, it would take on a life of its own. Rather than try and control it, I’d learned to give it free rein.
    “They seem to have a fantasy focus. Are they all like that?”
    “Most of them. It was never really intentional, I just found that style of drawing suited me, I guess. More creative license when it’s fantasy.”
    We joined the rest of the group assembling at the designated point and set down our backpacks.
    “You could make something of them, you know,” Max commented, unzipping his bag and reaching for his towel and water bottle.
    “You think I should sell them?” I was well and truly flattered, but couldn’t hide my reservations. “To who?”
    “To publishers or authors,” Max replied, matter of fact. “Some of those are right off the cover of a fantasy novel and some would make awesome gaming avatars.”
    I blinked. “But how? I don’t know anyone in those industries. And I know you’re sincere, but I don’t even know if they’re good enough.” For the first time ever, I sounded like a precious creative. Ordinarily I wouldn’t be worried in the least about presenting my work or about someone’s opinion, but this work was in a different category altogether—it wasn’t created for some business trying to sell something, it was personal. It was for me.
    “Actually, you do know someone.”
    I wondered what I was missing. “Who?”
    “Me.”
    “You? You work in computers. Or something … ” I felt another blush work its way up my neck as I realized I had no idea what I was talking about.
    “Something like that.” He seemed content not to elaborate any further and instead grinned at me, the effect more than a little dazzling. “But I’ve got a side project I’m working on, something to do with gaming. And I know I’m not a graphic artist, but I’m telling you, those sketches are something our animators could work with.”
    I opened my mouth, then shut it again when our fitness instructor, Brett, turned his attention our way.
    “Spencer, time to stop chatting up the pretty blonde and warm up, mate.” His rough English brogue had a few of the other class members glancing in our direction, so I obediently sat down and did the stretches he demonstrated.
    Max laughed softly, then joined me. “I’m serious,” he went on quietly, stretching his long olive legs out and effortlessly touching his toes. “I’m a nerd from way back and I can tell you, those illustrations would be a hit on the cover of a fantasy novel or, in my case, in a MMORPG.”
    I stopped doing my stretch and gave him a quizzical look.
    “Multiplayer online role playing game,” he clarified and although I couldn’t