Chapter Ten
This week has been on another level. Ever since my date with Hudson on Sunday, I haven’t been able to wipe the smile off of my face.
I won’t lie. I am a bit embarrassed that I got myself off using his body that way, but he assured me that he liked it too, so I’m going with it.
For a split second after it happened, I could imagine what Troy would have said. Within a breath, Hudson proved even more why he is nothing like the ex who tore me down.
I could be happy with Hudson. He would make me laugh and take good care of me. Something is missing, though. I want him, but my heart is still yearning for something else.
That’s why I’m sitting here waiting for Walker to pick me up for our date.
I look back at our text conversation from yesterday.
Walker: Can I take you on a date tomorrow?
Me: Yes.
Walker: I want you to be comfortable. Where I want to take you, we would be alone. Are you okay with that? If not, we can go somewhere else.
Me: I trust you.
Walker: I’ll pick you up at noon. Dress in something you don’t mind ruining.
Even rereading the words has the butterflies erupting in my body.
I have no idea what he has in store for me, but I’m ready for it. The group chat hasn’t stopped all week. The guys have all been asking me questions and sending me thirst traps. It’s hard to remain focused when all I can see is the three of them together doing their daily tasks.
It almost feels like this is a normal relationship.
It’s not, though. I can’t really keep all three of them.
I can hear the whispered words now.
Slut.
Whore.
Deviant.
I hate thinking it, but that’s what society would say. I want to be the brave badass and say “fuck the world,” but that’s not me. I don’t know how to stop caring about what others think.
Troy really played into that. That’s how he had me so wrapped around his finger that I couldn’t see him for who he really is. A snake.
I shake my head of thoughts of him.
No, I don’t need to make a decision. Not right now. It’s normal for a girl to go on dates with men she thinks she might like. I don’t have to feel guilty about this.
A rumble of a bike has me making my way toward the door. When I open it, I find Walker climbing off of his bike. He pulls something out of his saddlebag as he turns toward me. He stops short when he notices me.
My cheeks burn as his eyes take me in.
I’m not wearing anything special. An old pair of jeans that has seen better days paired with a T-shirt that I used to paint my living room last year. Add in the jacket on my arm and it’s nothing special.
Does he like what he sees?
As if realizing he’s stopped, he moves, making his way toward me quickly.
“These are for you.” He hands me a bunch of wildflowers.
I smile brightly at him. “I love them. Let me put them in some water. Come in?”
He nods, stepping in behind me but staying by the door.
I head into my kitchen, grabbing a large cup and filling it with water. I place the flowers inside once it’s full and make a mental note to buy a vase. I’m not used to getting flowers, so I never had a need for one. I have a feeling if I choose Walker, this would be a regular occurrence.
Going back to the front foyer, I smile at him. “Are you ready?”
He clears his throat. “Are you?”
“Yes,” I tell him, pulling on my jacket.
He nods, holding out his hand. I take it without hesitation, only stopping to lock the door behind us.
When we get to his bike, he hands me a helmet, the same color as the one Hudson had for me other than one small detail. The bright black word across the back.
Pixie.
It’s what Walker calls me. I considered asking him if he had this made for me but decided against it. I’m not sure I want to hear that it’s what he calls all women.
He climbs onto the bike before helping me climb on behind him. Like before, I wrap my arms around him tightly, enjoying how his big body feels against my smaller one. He feels safe. Like nothing could touch me if only I stayed in the comfort of his arms.
I don’t ask where we are going. What I’ve learned about Walker is that he is a man of few words.
Even via text, he keeps his responses short.
That could be seen as bad by some, but I realize it makes his words more meaningful.
If he says them, it took him effort because he really would rather not say them.
It makes me feel special. He wastes those words on me.
I close my eyes, focusing on the feeling of the wind against my body as he leads us to wherever we are going. I love being on a motorcycle. It’s a new development, but it makes me feel free.
Free of judgment.
Free of expectations.
When I’m here behind Walker or Hudson, I don’t have to worry about anything but enjoying the ride.
I wonder if it will be the same with Levi.
I push thoughts of the third man away. He has kept in contact too, but he seems more reserved. As if he is worried what my presence will do.
I don’t blame him. I meant what I said. I don’t want to tear their friendship apart. If I feel like that is even remotely possible, I’ll tear my own heart out and leave them all. They need each other. They can live without me.
Can I live without them?
It’s a harrowing thought. Before I met them, I was living just fine, or so I thought.
I feel alive now. I’m not sure how to go back to the life before knowing how good it can be with one of them.
Or all of them.
My thoughts are cut off when Walker pulls up to an old warehouse in the middle of nowhere. He meant it when he said we would be alone.
I don’t question it, though. Walker wouldn’t hurt me. If he wanted to, he has had plenty of opportunities.
Stepping off the bike, I wait for him to dismount. When he does, he takes off his helmet before helping me take off mine. Then he cups my cheek.
He doesn’t say a word, but I know the look in his eye. This is something important to him.
I step into him, giving him the affection I crave by wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”
The soft look he gives me is everything.
How could I choose Hudson when Walker gives me this feeling?
She is beautiful. The most gorgeous woman I have ever met, and she’s not even trying.
The outfit she picked out for our date is perfect. A simple pairing of jeans and a T-shirt, but it looks good on her. Even the light application of makeup on her face is so her.
I’m obsessed.
The guys are still a little reserved about her. They are worried she will only want one of us, ruining our dynamic.
I know the truth, though. She was made for us. I can feel it in my bones.
She’s shy, though. She has never done this before, which thrills me, but it also means we need to take things a bit slower.
We wouldn’t want her if she were to give in so easily. Even if it would make things go more smoothly, our girl would take her time. Get to know us.
That’s how we will know it’s real. When she wants us all for us.
It will all work out in the end if we put our minds to it and make her see how good it can be with us. She won’t have to worry about anything. We will care for her in ways she could never imagine.
I press my forehead to hers, my fingers caressing her cheek as she squeezes my waist, looking up at me.
“Come with me,” I whisper to her.
She nods, her eyes shining.
She trusts me. I can tell by the way she looks at me. The way she leans into the turns with me on the bike. Or the way she takes my hand without question.
She falls into step beside me as we walk up to the warehouse. I punch the code into the door before opening it. Stepping inside, I flip the lights on, then wait for her response.
It’s nothing too special. A large open space with two walled-off rooms to the side. Otherwise, it’s my sanctuary. Canvases fill the space along with all the supplies in the world you can think of to help you make the perfect painting.
“Wow. This is amazing. Did you do all of this?” she asks, looking at different works of art in different stages.
I grunt in affirmation.
She smiles over her shoulder at me as she walks forward, abandoning my hand.
“It’s wonderful. You are very talented.”
She looks at one of a dog. She glances back at me.
“Is this a dog you know?”
I shake my head, clearing my throat. “I take commissions. That’s for a lady who lost her pet recently.”
She looks sad, which makes me regret speaking at all. Then she comes to me, hugging me tight.
“That’s awesome. It hurts to lose a pet. The fact that you are doing this is so kind.”
I nod once before I kiss her forehead. “I have something planned. Come with me.”
She comes willingly, her eyes taking in all of the projects along the way. Each time she compliments them, my chest puffs out. I like that she likes what we do.
I step into one of the side rooms that I have set up with a blank canvas lying on the floor.
“Do you bring all your dates here?” Esme asks suddenly.
I turn and look at her, shaking my head slowly. She smiles wider.
“Only me? Am I special?”
“More than you know,” I mumble.
That makes her giggle. “I like that.”
I do too.
I don’t tell her that, though. I lead her to the canvas with all the paints laid out.
“What is all of this?” she asks.
“I’ve always wanted to do this with someone but never found someone worth it.”
She walks around it as she looks up at me. “I’m smart, big guy, but I think you are going to have to tell me what exactly it is you want to do.”
I love when she calls me that. I’m used to my size being intimidating, but she makes it seem like it’s a positive thing. Like she likes it.
I want to do you.
“It’s a thing couples do. They paint each other, then get into position on the canvas. It’s like making a portrait of each other using your bodies.”
“With our clothes on? That seems messy,” she hums.
“Well, usually it’s done naked, but I figured you wouldn’t want to do that…” I trail off, my dick growing as I think about her naked.