Chapter 8
SHADE
I’ve been closed for a few hours now. The buzz of the neon sign hung above me should be the perfect kind of white noise for what I’m doing.
The sketch in front of me is rough—beyond it, really. I haven’t set my pencil down for hours, and I’ve got a hand coated in graphite to prove it. Bryce has tried to get me onto the whole iPad thing, but I was shit at it the first time I tried. Paper and pencil are what I’m comfortable with.
Only today, I’m drawing like someone who’s never held a pencil before.
I rip the page off my sketchbook and crumble it into a ball before tossing it across the shop. It hits the outside of the garbage can and falls to the ground to join the six prior ones.
Maybe I just need a break. The client I’m drawing this for isn’t scheduled in for a couple of days now, so I’m not behind. I’ve just got to kick this mind block before it gets me in trouble. My confidence can afford the hit, but the business can’t.
A headache blooms behind my eyes, and I break the pencil in half before abandoning the pieces on my desk. The new piece on my thigh itches like a motherfucker, and I palm it through my jeans, seeking some sort of relief.
After flicking off the neon sign shaping my name, I nudge my stool out of the way and growl under my breath when I find Bryce’s iPad on the edge of her desk with a sticky note on it.
Give it a second chance before we both end up jobless.
There’s no reason to try it a second time because I’m fine. It’s just a lack of inspiration. I’ll get past it.
My patience has been dwindling all afternoon, and I’m so close to flipping my lid when the studio door opens behind me.
I hear the cautious steps of feet on my floor and tense.
Forgetting to lock the door has never been an issue before, so I guess it’s fitting that after the day I’ve had, someone can’t seem to read a fucking sign—
“Oh! You’re closed. I’m so sorry! God, I should have been paying more attention. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
The speed at which I spin around is terrifying. Jesus, I’m going to end up making a fool of myself with this girl.
“You can stay,” I drawl, fixing my eyes on Millie. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, princess.”
Her stare brightens. “Still haven’t forgotten about that nickname.”
“It’s only been two days.”
“Can’t blame a girl for hoping.”
I abandon the mess of pencils and the open sketchbook still on the desk and let myself get drawn closer to her. Millie darts her eyes to the side, focusing on something in the studio.
“You stayed longer than I thought you were going to,” I state.
She twists her lips and brings her hands to rest at the low of her back. “I couldn’t get myself to leave just yet, I guess.”
“And you were giving yourself a tour that led you here?”
“You could say that. I’ve seen more of the town today than I did my first day here.”
“Did you like it?” I ask, unable to help myself.
Similar to the way I felt the night we met, Millie seems to bring out a natural curiosity inside of me that I’ve only experienced a few times in my life.
All of which involved my best friend and her soon-to-be wife.
There’s a difference, though, because I never got aroused around either of them but can’t seem to shake it with Millie.
It’s typical for me to be flirty and outgoing, but to really dig in . . . yeah, I’ll usually pass.
“It’s small,” Millie says, slightly awkward.
“Smaller than where you’re from, I assume.”
“I didn’t grow up in a big city, but it does have more to it than Oak Point.”
When her eyes meet mine, I try my hardest to keep them there. The slight part of her lips is undeniably sexy, and I know without a fucking doubt that she has no idea. There’s such an innocent energy to her that I can’t tell if I love or want to push.
“Are you going to tell me where exactly you grew up, or should I start begging?” I tease.
Her cheeks deepen to a soft pink. “I didn’t come here to play twenty-one questions.”
“Do people still do that?”
“I don’t know! You’re doing this on purpose now,” she says with a huff.
Chuckling, I slip my hands into my pockets. “You’re right. Tell me why you really came here.”
The immediate nerves that swallow that glimmer in her eyes pique my interest. I keep my mouth shut, though, before I piss her off to the point she abandons this and disappears.
“I met a girl today, and she was telling me that you were looking for someone to work at the front desk. Honestly, I don’t have a lot of experience with office work, but I like to think I’m a quick learner. You don’t have to say yes either. I won’t be offended or anything.”
What?
I clear my throat, attempting to keep a straight face. “You came here to ask for a job?”
“Yes,” she replies cautiously.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to catch up here.” I run a hand over my head, my fingers slipping through hair that’s getting a bit too long. “You’re not going home?”
“Not right now. I’m thinking of staying for a bit. But if I do that, I need a way to make money.”
Sweeping my eyes up and down her body, I try to piece this all together.
Her wedding dress is long gone, replaced with a knee-length pink skirt, a pair of nude tights, and a long-sleeved blouse that pinches beneath the bust. Fuck, the heels on her feet make her legs look a million miles long despite being so much shorter than mine.
She doesn’t look short of money now, and she didn’t in Peakside either.
Her car was a luxury brand that I’ve never seen in person before, and I nearly offered to clean it that night because of how filthy it was, just so she didn’t have to do it herself.
There’s nothing about this woman that screams strapped for cash.
“Like I said, you don’t need to say yes. I can’t guarantee how long I’ll be here, so I know I’d be a liability that way,” she adds tightly, her muscles growing tight like she’s preparing to abandon her offer and leave.
Before she can make a run for it, I reach out and touch her elbow. She sucks in a breath, and her eyes blow wide, so I drop my touch, unable to read the reason behind that reaction.
“The job is yours if you want it, princess. There’s no question there. I’m just surprised to see you again, let alone here, wanting to work for me.”
“It’s not that I want to work for you,” she clarifies.
My grin is instant, my skin buzzing. “Jeez, way to cut a guy down at the knees.”
“I meant that I didn’t stay here just so I could work for you. I’m not ready to leave yet, and you’d be helping me out.”
“I know, Millie. You’re more than welcome to snag the job.”
She lets out a breath and nods, the hint of a smile tilting her mouth. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I guess I should leave you to it, then. You seemed like you were doing something before I interrupted.”
I lift a taunting brow. “Were you watching me in the window, Millie?”
“Don’t get a big head about it. I was just making sure you were actually inside.”
“My head’s already big, so I’m afraid it’s too late for me.”
“I’m leaving now.”
She’s still wearing that playful smile when she turns away from me and starts for the door. An invisible hand finds my back and gives me a push after her.
“Have you eaten dinner?”
Pausing her exit, Millie offers me a surprised look over her shoulder. “No.”
“Do you want to?’
“With you?”
“Yeah, with me.”
“Are you sure? Is that something you do?”
I bark a laugh. “Have dinner with a friend? I tend to from time to time.”
“Then yes, I’d like to have dinner with you, Shade.”
I should have spent some time cleaning earlier.
It’s been years since I’ve had a woman in my space like this, and even then, I didn’t have half the shit I do now.
The two-bedroom apartment above my studio was a blessing when I bought the place, but over the years, I’ve outgrown it.
I’m too old for the whole bachelor pad thing, and now I’m struggling with the prospect of ditching it and finding a real place to live.
Somewhere with a space to have friends over and a shower that I don’t have to duck to get into every day.
“So, this is where you live?” Millie asks, taking a seat on the couch beside me.
“It’s usually more organized than this.”
“You don’t have to lie. I think it’s nice. Lived-in and cozy.”
“You mean small and messy, but I’ll take the compliment.”
I’ve already ordered from Maggie’s today, but when Millie wasn’t picky about what we had tonight, I figured it was a safe bet. The weight rack in my living room is there for a reason.
I start pulling our food out of the brown bag it came in and pop the top of her container before sliding it over. The chicken strips she asked for smell up my entire apartment, and for some goddamn reason, I like that.
She scoots to the edge of the couch and reaches for a fry, her smile infectious. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Anytime, princess. All I ask in return is that you keep smiling like that.”
“You’re helpless.”
“I’ve been called worse,” I joke before digging into my burger.
“Is this your usual order, or was it something different earlier?”
I almost choke on the beef in my throat. Swallowing, I look at her. “How do you know I ordered from Maggie’s already today?”
“I was there with the girl I met. You were just picking up your food, but I did see you.”
“Well, there goes my hope of you thinking of me as this big, beefy Hulk man.”
She cracks up, using the back of her hand to cover her mouth. “I never once thought of you as that.”
“Do tell what you did think, then,” I encourage, keeping my voice low, intimate.
“Didn’t you already warn me about your big head?”
I jostle her knee with mine. “Want to hear what I think about you instead?”
“Kind of, but I’m a little scared.”
“I’ll be gentle, princess,” I purr.
Her throat pulls tightly. “Go for it.”
“I think you’re far too beautiful to be so sad.”
A long, heavy pause. “What makes you think that I’m sad?”
“People don’t run from lives they’re happy with. None that I’ve met, at least. Your eyes give you away, Millie.”
“Is that why you invited me to dinner?” The doubt in her voice cuts at me.
“No. I did that because I wanted to spend time with you. I’ve wanted that since the night we met. Besides, I’m not really the guy women call when they want their broken heart mended.”
“So you just avoid all the sad people you see?”
I leave my food in its container and wipe my hands on a napkin. The restlessness that’s swarming me right now makes it hard to sit still. Spreading my legs, I scratch at my jaw.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I don’t understand,” she murmurs.
There’s a ball of fire rolling through my groin, sparked by the innocence in her tone.
The confusion that hints once again at an inexperience that should have me crawling back into myself.
I don’t mess around with women who don’t know what they want, and I damn well don’t entertain the idea of it with one who seems blind to the sexual chemistry that’s been throbbing between us since the night we met.
Sipping on a long inhale, I bend over my lap and turn my head so I’m staring directly at her. Guarded, almost shy blue eyes pierce into me, watching and waiting.
“I’m someone women seek out when they want their memory fucked away, princess.”
She squeaks. The prettiest pink crawls up her throat and to her ears. I drop a hand to my knee and squeeze to keep from doing something so fucking stupid and reaching for the thighs she snaps together. Her chest rises with uneven breaths.
“Oh.”
My chuckle is rough, grated. “Yeah.”
“Is that . . . what you like?”
“Sex with no strings is the only kind I have. It’s more passionate that way. Raw.”
She jerks her head in a nod and reaches for the collar of her shirt, plucking it away where it cups the base of her throat. I fidget again, the crotch of my jeans growing a size tighter.
“I’m not feeling well. I think—I’m going to go,” she rambles, her cheeks growing a deeper shade of red.
Alarm shoots through me. “Are you sure? What’s wrong?”
“Can I come by the studio to talk about the job tomorrow? I’ll—I’ll leave my number.”
“Yeah, of course you can. Are you alright to drive?”
Snagging a pencil from the bowl of them on the kitchen counter, she scribbles on a scrap of paper. “Yep!”
I get to my feet and follow her when she collects her things and rushes around the couch and to the door. Not wanting to overwhelm her, I keep a few paces back, hovering as close as I can.
“Do you want to take your dinner for later?”
“No, thank you. I’ll see you!” she rushes out, already halfway out the door.
I keep my feet anchored to the floor and let her go with a reminder that I don’t chase women. Not like that, and not in any other way. It’s not who I am.
Yet here I am, wishing like hell I was.