Chapter Ten
ARES
I can’t believe I bought a fucking condo.
Even as I stare back at my digital signature on my phone from the contract the realtor sent back to me, I’m in disbelief. It was my intention to rent an apartment, have a place of my own. Now, I really did have my own place. I pocket my phone with a groan as I look around the space again.
I don’t hate it. Clearly, or I wouldn’t have dropped nearly a million dollars on it. The four-bedroom condo is a few blocks from the auction house. Being within walking distance when traffic is horrific is perfect. I step across the dark hardwood floors and toward the large arched windows overlooking downtown. My eyes move to scan over the off-white walls. It’s a blank canvas and I can’t begin to think where I should even start.
After living out of suitcases for most of my adult life, I feel stuck.
The idea of asking for help to pick out furniture comes to mind. My mother would love to help, but our styles aren’t the same. My assistant, Jules, would be more than happy to order things for me. I don’t want to waste her time though. She already helped me find this place and I know she’s getting ready to go on vacation with her girlfriend next week.
There’s one person I would love to have input from. I pull out my phone.
Me: Where are you?
Kyra: Just finished up my classes for the day. I’m headed back to the house to work on my paper.
Me: Are you able to concentrate in a house full of people?
Kyra: It depends on the day. My roommate has plans this evening, so I’ll thankfully have the room to myself to concentrate.
Me: I just bought a condo.
Kyra: What? Where?
Me: Less than 15 minutes away.
Me: It’s within walking distance from the museum and auction house. Since I spend most of my time at the auction house when I’m not traveling, it made the most sense.
Me: Kyra?
Kyra: Can I come and see it?
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. That’s exactly what I was hoping she would say.
Me: I’d like to make a deal.
Kyra: For what?
Me: In exchange for helping you on your paper and with the event, help me decorate and furnish it.
Kyra: We don’t have the same style. How do you know I wouldn’t make it too pink?
Me: You should know me well enough.
Pink isn’t my color, but I know she likes it in her space. Visions of her spending time here has heat spreading from my chest. I like the idea of her in my space. I know I shouldn’t. Not when the ways I’m thinking of her here are anything but innocent.
Kyra: I should see the space first, map things out.
Me: I’ll order takeout if you don’t mind sitting on the floor. The Wi-Fi is already connected through the building, bring your schoolwork with you if you want.
Kyra: I can come back to my room to study.
Me: Stay the night.
Kyra: You have a guest room?
Me: There are a few rooms, no furniture yet.
Me: Come on, princess.
Kyra:
Me: I’ll order burgers and sweet potato fries.
Kyra: Sold. Send me the address.
I chuckle as I forward her the address. Then I switch over to the food app to have an order delivered in half an hour. I should’ve started with the food. Sweet potatoes are her favorite.
There’s a knock on my door in record time. I grin as I make my way over to it and open it up.
Kyra stands in front of me in her typical attire of sundress and flats. Her hair is curled loosely and in a low ponytail, a few strands of her blonde hair frame her stunning face. I swallow as my eyes drink her in, down and back up.
I open the door wider and she smiles. Kyra walks in slowly, a brown leather book bag over her shoulder. And just like that, I swear the air fucking changes. An intoxicating smell curls around my senses. She smells like citrus and sunshine. There’s something else, softer, something entirely her—feminine in a way I hadn’t let myself notice until recently.
Is it weird to be smelling her? I close my eyes for half a second, leaning into that addictive smell. She doesn’t notice, too busy taking in the large empty space.
Kyra’s walking through the condo like it’s hers, confident with her commentary. She gestures at walls and talks about colors and wallpapers. I know I should be listening. I should be paying attention and nodding along so she doesn’t think I’m a complete idiot. Only, I can’t hear a single fucking word she’s saying. Her mouth moves and all I can think about is what those lips would feel like pressed to mine.
It hits me hard, low in the gut. Need. Not simple or casual. This feeling is deep and burying even deeper. Unrelenting. The kind that doesn’t go away even though it should.
I fucking want her.
I want Kyra in my space. Her smile on me, her laugh echoing off of these walls. I want her things to take up space here. It should scare the hell out of me. I’ve never wanted anyone like I do her. The attraction to her feels like it came out of nowhere, it hits me in the chest and I’m not sure I can breathe.
She continues to walk around, soft footsteps on the hard wood floors. Has she always walked that softly? I feel like she could sneak up on me. Her voice gently bounces off the empty walls.
Kyra turns in a slow circle as she nears the large arched windows. “Okay.” She turns back toward me. “This place has potential.”
I step closer. My face straight as I nod, waiting for her to continue. Does she notice how distracting she is? Curves that beg to be caressed. Toned legs I want wrapped around me. Thick blonde hair I want to run my fingers through, or wrapped around my hand. “Where should we start?”
Her light blue eyes find mine. They pin me in place, like a slow-burning, cool flame. They’re fucking impossible to look away from.
“Warm, velvet blue walls. Maybe a wallpaper for the color and a bit of design.” She slips her bag to the floor then starts to walk around again. “This fireplace is gorgeous. The mantle is too small for it though. You could do furniture here.” Kyra walks in a circle and starts pointing out seating and tables.
And me? I’m still near the door trying to catch my breath from the way she smelled walking past me five minutes ago. Citrus. Sunshine. Her.
Kyra’s eyes light up as she talks and I continue to nod along at her words. Not that I’m paying enough attention, I can’t think straight. The sunlight comes through the window and finds her, like a beacon. It’s as if she glows, otherwise the universe is shining a spotlight on her.
It never occurred to me before how gorgeous she is. She was seventeen the last time I saw her. Petite little thing. Those blue eyes always got to me, though. She could ask me or my brother for anything or to play any game, and we gave in. Just like our parents.
But now? Now, she’s twenty-one. There’s nothing about her that looks like a kid anymore. It should be wrong. The six-year age gap, all the history, our family connections, the weight of every summer and holiday we shared growing up.
Then she looks at me.
It’s like she fucking sees me.
Kyra bites her lip like she’s holding back a laugh and it hits me all at once. It crashes into me. This isn’t passing. This isn’t casual. It’s like she’s lodged herself in my chest and made a home there. I want her in the forever kind of way.
* * *
Later, we’re sitting cross-legged on the floor. Our backs are against the wall near the windows. Remnants of our takeout has been pushed away and back in the greasy paper bags it arrived in. Her laptop balances on her knees as she scrolls through furniture websites, pointing out ideas.
Kyra seems completely at ease. Comfortable in a way I didn’t consider before. As if there was nowhere else she’d rather be, than sitting on the floor of an empty condo with me at eight o’clock on a Monday night.
I watch her point out a sectional she says would be perfect if I want a cozy night in. Then she talks about adding in built-in bookcases and some oversized chaise lounge that would be perfect for reading in.
“Send me the links,” I say.
She laughs and kicks my foot, as if I were joking. The touch is barely anything, but it might as well be a spark plug to my skin. She doesn’t even look up, just keeps scrolling, completely unaware she’s unraveling me in real time.
I shift slightly, trying to give a bit of distance. She doesn’t seem to notice. It’s like she can’t feel the air crackling between us. It should be a good thing. Safe. Because the second she realizes what’s happening, everything changes.
“See this is what you need.” She tilts her screen over to show the collage image of blues, golds, and cream-colored furniture and accent pieces. “Something warm and cozy, yet sensual.”
I raise a brow. “Why? Are you planning on coming over and seducing me with throw pillows?”
Kyra laughs. “You wish.” She moves to another image. “You need something cozy and entirely you. I’m sure you have pieces stored away from your travels that deserve a place too.”
“I do.” I turn my head to look at her instead of her screen.
She meets my eyes for a split second. Her lips part, then she quickly turns to pay attention to her laptop again. “Are you going to hire someone to paint?”
“Yes. I might have it arranged during my next trip, so I don’t have to worry about the paint fumes,” I respond.
“When is that?” She swallows.
“After the event we haven’t discussed. I’ll make sure I’m here for you for it.” I point to her laptop. “Pull up the sectional again.” I pull my wallet out of my back pocket, leaning in closer to her to grab it. “Let’s order it.”
Kyra smiles at me. “If you order all this comfortable furniture, don’t be surprised if I decide it’s quieter here and show up to watch movies or study.”
I laugh, but I’m counting on it.