If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse: A Dark Grumpy Sunshine Romance

Chapter 4

Briar

“Do you think he’s the type of man that likes being called a good boy?”

Nat tears her gaze away from the window and turns to look at me with a curious expression. “Who?”

“Rurik!” Who else could I be talking about? He’s all I’ve been talking about for the past few days.

I show her my phone—or Rurik Campbell’s Instagram page. It’s been nearly a month since we first met during his first showcase, and I can’t stop thinking about him.

Have I been stalking him ever since that fateful day?

Yes. I fucking have.

Right now, he’s probably painting some glorious view. I know he likes to go to Central Park every Friday evening and paint whatever suits his mood. I tried to join him multiple times, but I always got the same greeting every time.

Can you fuck off?

Leave me the hell alone, Briar!

Quit bugging me, you crazy woman.

Cross me again, and I’ll make you regret it.

Get out of my face.

Or my personal favorite: What the fuck?

See? He totally likes me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have bothered speaking to me. My beautiful angel likes to play hard to get. But that’s cool. I love challenges.

I haven’t seen him in a while, though. I’m pretty sure he has been trying to avoid me. It’s fucking adorable. But I miss seeing his face. So much so that I have resorted to stalking him on social media. Like a fucking love-sick teenage girl.

Shit.

AmI crazy?

Nat stares at the screen for a few seconds before looking back out the car window, “Girl, I’m warning you right now… Direct your fascination elsewhere.”

I frown as we both watch two men dressed in black gear with ski masks attempt to break into Nat’s cousin’s car. Mr. Rogers asked Nat and me to come over because he was afraid this type of shit was going to happen.

“Why? He fascinates me.” I ask curiously.

One of the guys looks around as if he”s in one of those spy movies, yet fails to see us inside the car across from them. He looks at his partner and says something before wrapping his fist with cloth and smashing the car window.

“Those idiots,” Nat hisses as the sounds of glass breaking echoed through the street. She throws me a look and sighs, “Hold that thought.”

We both jump out of the car, causing the two men to freak out.

“Shit!”

“Oh, fuck me!”

“No, I’m good,” I say as I quicken my steps.

The guy who dared to smash the car window holds his hand up. “Listen, we didn’t…” He must have realized I wasn’t in the mood to slow my pacing because he quickly curses again and attempts to flee.

But I am already in a foul mood because of them. I could be watching over my angel right about now. But instead, I’m here, trying to put a stop to these losers. So, when the guy tries to run past me—why he thinks that”s a good idea just shows me how intelligent he is—I stick my foot out and watch him trip marvelously.

I look over to see Nat already pinning down his partner, a pink bedazzled gun digging into his skull.

“What’s wrong with me liking Rurik?” I ask her, slamming the man’s head against the ground to stop him from moving.

He starts yelling, but I can’t be bothered. I pull both of his arms behind him and press my knee against his gathered wrists before handcuffing them together. The dude will not shut the fuck up, so I take out a handkerchief from my back pocket and shove it inside his mouth.

Nat makes an impatient sound after she slams the gun handle against the back of her guy’s head.

“Besides being the stepson of the senator who’s been trying to shoot down Dad’s work? He’s too much of a good boy for you.” She lifts her finger as she starts listing, “He donates to charity, the type of person that would help an old lady cross the street, keeps in touch with his family and friends in Scotland, and volunteers this weekend to hand out food to the homeless. According to Oscar, Rurik lives and breathes helping others.”

Aww, so he is an angel!

My guy keeps squirming underneath me, and it’s really fucking annoying and distracting. Can”t he see that my bestie and I are trying to converse about Rurik? I press my fingers against the nerves on his neck, causing him to stop and pass out.

I pause. Shit.

I should double-check to make sure he is unconscious and not dead. That would suck for him. I drift my finger to his pulse and wait.

Oh, yup! He”s still alive. The last time Nat did this, unfortunately — or fortunately for us — the person died.

R.I.P.

Nat places all her weight on the man”s lower back and calls her dad.

“We got them!” She chirps as soon as he answers.

“That”s great, little one.” Mr. Rogers praises. “What did they want from your cousin?”

She makes a face, “Oh, we didn”t ask, Dad. They were trying to run away, so we tied them up.”

“I don”t hear them yelling in the background.”

“That”s because they”re sleeping.” Nat sighs, “Can someone grab them for us, please? I told Oscar I would see him this afternoon.”

“I called Oscar to meet you guys. He should be there soon to pick up those men.”

Right on cue, the light beams from Oscar”s precious black impala flashes at us. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the moving antique.

“He”s here! Thanks, Dad, I love you!” Before her dad could respond, she hangs up.

As soon as Oscar helped us drag the men inside the trunk of her car, I’m greeted with the sickening sight of Oscar and Nat sucking each other”s faces.

Rolling my eyes, I pull my phone out and scroll Rurik”s page. I pause at a picture of him smiling brightly at the camera with his arm around a guy about his age.

I sigh heavily. “I can”t take this. He”s just so cute, Nat.”

Oscar and Nat finally pull away from each other.

“Who”s cute?” Oscar asks, his lips swollen.

“I’m going to say this as your best friend,” Nat says, “Let the poor man go, Briar. He”s too innocent. He”s good. He won’t be able to handle you, and you’ll destroy him.”

I pause and glance at her. “Or he’ll destroy me.”

She laughs, “I mean, true. With what we witnessed during his showcase, he might be the one to tame the almighty Briar Reyes.”

“Wait,” Oscar frowns, “Are you talking about Rurik Campbell?”

“He”s become her new obsession,” Nat explains.

I scowl.

Oscar bites his bottom lip, looking pained for some reason.

“Oh, Briar.” He sighs and shakes his head, looking apologetic.

I groan, “What?”

Oscar and Nat exchange looks, and I don’t like it.

“What?” I repeat through gritted teeth.

Nat has the grace to look ashamed, “Nothing. We know you”ll still pursue him regardless.”

“We”re gonna be together forever.”

Oscar coughs, and Nat elbows his side.

“We made a bet,” she chuckles. “Oscar thinks you’ll be the one to bring him down on his knees, but I think he might be the one to calm whatever’s happening in your head.”

I know she’s joking, but I can’t help but stiffen at the last part. “Whatever’s in my head?”

She glances at me and shrugs, “You don’t become our group’s secret weapon with a clear head.”

“That’s what you think,” I scoff.

We all pause when we hear a weak thud coming from the trunk of her car.

We all groan. Looks like our new buddies are waking up.

“Seriously, though.” Nat continues as we both watch Oscar open the trunk to punch the men to unconsciousness again. “Rurik’s different, Briar. He’s not part of our world. I really don’t think he’ll understand what we do. Even Oscar has to hide shit from him.”

Nah, fuck that shit.

Rurik may not know it yet, but he was meant to come into my life just as I was meant to go into his. While he may appear as the golden boy to many, the past few weeks have given me a glimpse of the real Rurik Campbell.

And I fucking love it.

“Promise me, Briar.”

I blink and turn my attention back to my best friend. “Huh?”

“Promise me that you will leave him alone.” Nat looks worried. She never worries.

I stare at her, confused as to why she is so determined about me leaving the golden boy alone.

“Let him go so he can live his life.”

My eyes narrow. Why do I get the sense she”s hiding something from me? I open my mouth to demand why she”s asking me to do this when she”s never cared about who I pursue, but the serious expression on her face stops me.

I swallow hard and nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

*-*-*-*

Okay, so I lied.

What?

I mean, I’m technically not lying. I agreed to let him live his life, and I have been. I just happen to be there, watching him from afar, ensuring my angel is safe from harm.

Seriously, he doesn’t know this, but I saved him multiple times from assholes who tried to jump him from behind. I’ve noticed that he has this terrible habit of taking shortcuts in dark alleyways with no streetlights to guide him. People see this man who is alone and not paying attention to his surroundings because his eyes are always glued to his damn phone, and expect he’s an easy target.

But they don’t realize I’m also there, watching over him.

So, whenever assholes try to touch my Rurik, I don’t hesitate to attack them first. Quietly, of course. I don’t need my angel freaking out when he sees unconscious bodies dropping behind him.

I’m a professional. I always know what I’m doing.

He’s so fucking clueless about the potential dangers around him it’s almost comical. Yes, I know. How ironic. I’m the irony.

I can’t help it.

As I”ve been covertly shadowing him like a guilty voyeur lurking in the darkness, I”ve realized that Nat wasn”t exaggerating his good-boy tendencies.

Rurik Campbell likes to start his day every morning at 6:00 AM by going to the gym and lifting weights. As much as I hate waking up bright and early, the best good morning greetings have been seeing his broad muscles glistening with sweat.

How do I witness these moments when I’m supposed to keep my distance?

I”m the one in all black, my oversized black hoodie covering my face. I”ve realized that my outfit may attract more attention when other ladies come in dressed in sports bras and form-fitting leggings.

However, I can proudly note that my Rurik is quite a gentleman. His gaze never strays whenever such ladies come across him. Does that stop me from shoving them in the locker room, forcing them to wear T-shirts, or threatening to drop a barbell on them?

Of course not.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. They can wear whatever the fuck they want, as they should because women are beautiful creatures that deserve to feel comfortable in their skin. I’m all for girl power and all.

But in front of my Rurik? Fuck. No.

On Mondays, he extends his angelic nature by volunteering to teach painting at long-term care homes. It must be therapeutic for the residents, and I can see his patience shining through with everyone. Except me, of course. He snaps every time I bombard him with questions.

Such a tease.

Every other day, he works at this bougie, organic, gluten-free, everything happy-free grocery store. I don’t know why, though. Whatever helps pay his bills, I guess. Then, on Wednesdays and Thursdays, he goes to Central Park and sketches whatever he feels like. The other day, I caught him repainting this bridge. One time, I saw him sketching flowers. He sketched the same flower I had given him before.

Did my heart stutter when I saw that? I almost fainted knowing he sketched that flower because of his feelings for me.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t have feelings for me. Not the kind I want, anyway. Why would he sketch that same flower out of all the flowers scattered around the park?

Then, he works at the art gallery Oscar owns on Fridays and weekends. During that time, I actually showed myself because, hello, I love art. Oscar knows me, and I know Oscar. It”s just such a fantastic bonus that Rurik is also there.

Does his jaw drop each time I walk into the gallery? Yes. I choose to believe it’s because my beauty stuns him every time he sees me.

Seriously, I go there for art. That’s it. Oscar has always been strict about the type of art he showcases in his gallery. He’s a snob that way. But it works out because I like to ogle the artwork that Oscar likes to have displayed in his gallery. This particular artwork is the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen. It’s honestly a fucking masterpiece.

The masterpiece is Rurik Campbell.

Does his face get all red every time I glue myself to his side and ask him a bunch of questions about random sculptures and his art? Again, I choose to believe it’s because I’m so damn beautiful that he can’t find the words to say what he means. So he just turns red and grumbles.

What? I”m his biggest fan. I have to ask him questions about how he does shit. I have to understand his creative process, right? But I”ve noticed something about Rurik—he rarely smiles or laughs.

He”s always so serious.

I”ve only seen him smile when people compliment his work or he uses his customer service voice at the grocery store. They’re fake. Rehearsed. My angel needs to loosen up, and I”m determined to help him do just that.

I squeezed his cheeks once, and he nearly exploded.

Oscar had to intervene and send him to do inventory in the back, which unfortunately meant I couldn”t see him because guests weren”t allowed in the employee areas.

Fucking cock blocker, that Oscar. If he weren’t engaged to my best friend, I would have smacked him in the head. I mean, I did do that, too, but I could have made it more painful for him.

Right now, Rurik is reading a book on a shaded bench underneath a crape myrtle tree.

I really want to pop up behind his shoulder and scream, “OOGA BOOGA!”but I’m pretty sure my angel would seriously hate that. And I don’t want him to hate me, damn it.

So, I throw a rock at his head instead.

He flinches and mutters his favorite question he always loves to ask me, “What the fuck?”

“Surprise!” I grin, plopping myself down beside him.

Rurik glares at me as he rubs the back of his head. “Leave me alone.”

“But I missed you.”

“Fuck off.”

“But I haven’t fucked you yet for me to fuck off.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Have you been reading my thoughts?”

Rurik shifts a few inches away from us and continues reading, his brows furrowing as he tries to jump back into the pages.

“What are you reading?”

“None of your business.”

“That sounds boring.”

Rurik growls and snaps his book shut. He roughly gets up and tries to walk away, but I grab his wrist.

“Wait!” I say, “I’m sorry, please don’t go. I promise I’ll shut up if you sit here with me.”

Rurik glares at my hand on his wrist but, to my surprise, nods. The way he does it makes it look like his neck is too stiff. He keeps his distance between us and sits down, opening his book again with a heavy sigh.

He doesn’t walk away this time. I can’t help but grin at that.

My angel is so into me. I just know it.

I sigh and look in front of us. Seconds turn to minutes, and I can’t help but keep glancing at him now and then.

He’s gorgeous. Beautiful. Handsome.

All of the above.

“Quit staring at me, crazy.”

And grumpy.

I grin. I often seem to do that when I’m around him, grinning. I look up and straighten to reach my arm up and pick off one of the pretty pink flowers from the tree. The rustling sounds of the leaves cause Rurik to glance at me, his facial expression annoyed. I’m starting to think that’s his default setting when it comes to me.

I offer him the pink flower. “For you.”

He stares at it, the corner of his lips curling into that distrustful snarl. “Why?”

I shrug. “It’s a gift for you. You can use it as a bookmark or something.”

He scowls. “No.” And goes back to reading his book.

Okay.

Rude.

I’m going to ignore that painful sting that pierced through my heart just now.

I drop the flower in the space between us and let him continue reading. We both remain silent as the wind caresses our skins, listening to the sounds of children screaming and laughing while joggers and walkers pass us.

It’s a good thing Rurik is busy burying his head between the pages of his book because he would have seen me snarl or give “quit staring at my man or I will fuck you the fuck up” looks each time he would get longing looks in his direction.

I glance at him and sigh.

His brows twitch, but his eyes remain glued to the pages.

Ugh, I can’t take this. He can’t expect me to sit still like this and not touch him. It’s just blasphemous.

Yawning, I stretch my arms upward, letting my left arm fall on top of the bench, draping it around Rurik”s back. Did I just pull the most cliché move ever?

Jesus. What is he doing to me? I’m becoming desperate, and I’m never that.

He stiffens when my fingers lightly brush against his shoulder. He gives me a dirty look, which I return with an award-winning smile.

Without saying a word, he closes his book and gets up.

I blink and jump up. “Hey, wait up!” I yell as I pick up the flower I had plucked and run after him, matching his strides, which is problematic because he is taller than me. His power walking feels like a jog for me just to keep up.

But he keeps walking — Wait, is it just me, or did he pick up the pace?

I glare at the back of his head.

What an adorable fucking asshole this man is.

I pause.

The adorable asshole is fucking jogging away from me now. I don’t know if I should be amused or pissed that he’s trying to run away from me for the hundredth time.

I look down and find a small rock on the ground. Picking it up, I eye the distance between us and pull my arm back before hurling it over my head.

The rock lands on his neck.

He abruptly halts his jog and spins around to face me. If I didn’t know him, I would actually be scared of the look he was giving me. If I were any other girl, I would probably cry, puke, and shit out of fear.

But I’m not, thankfully.

How embarrassing would it be if I performed all three bodily functions at once in front of him? We’re definitely not on that level yet.

“Aww,” I purr as I finally catch up to him. “Thank you so much for waiting for me, angel.”

His dark blue eyes sparkle like diamonds as he glares at me.

“Leave me alone, Briar.” His deep voice drips with malice.

“No.” I sweetly say back.

I watch with fascination as the apples of his cheeks turn bright pink.

Fuck, how is it remotely possible for anyone to be as gorgeous as him? Even while he looks like he’s on the verge of foaming in the mouth, he’s exquisite.

Rurik draws in a sharp breath and closes his eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he rubs his chest in slow circles as if I were the cause of literal heartburn.

I frown. Shit, maybe I am a nuisance to him.

“Stop throwing shit at me, Briar.” He snaps, opening his eyes and glaring at me again.

“Stop running away from me, angel.”

Rurik makes a rough sound.

“Let me explain this to you so your pretty little head can understand,” he says. “When someone runs the other way from you, 99.9% of the time, they are uninterested and want nothing to do with you.”

I stare at him.

He stares back.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but I beat him.

“Did you just call me pretty?” I can’t stop the stupid grin I know is on my face.