Chapter 16 - Aubrey
I didn’t want to say that I was going stir-crazy, but I was.
Everywhere I went, Klaus followed. When I went to get groceries, he was there.
When I went out for afternoon walks, he went with me.
I knew that Klaus was doing this to keep me safe because they weren’t able to find Mike, and Klaus wasn’t taking any chances.
But I was starting to miss my alone time.
I glanced across the deck where Klaus was standing with the hose.
He was watering the garden bed while I sat at the kitchen island.
I tapped my finger on the counter and sighed.
I needed out of the house, but I didn’t think that was going to help.
I knew Klaus would go with me, and I just wanted to clear my head.
I wanted to turn my mind off of everything that was going on.
Klaus opened the screen door and stepped inside. “It’s hot out there.”
“Oh?” I tried to relax, but I found myself always tense now that Klaus was always around. I could feel his eyes on me wherever I went.
“Yeah, it’s humid too. Are you still planning to take a walk? I don’t know if we’re going to want to do that. We’re going to just bake in this heat.”
I swallowed. “How about we do something new today?”
“New?” He raised an eyebrow.
I nodded. “Yeah, something different than our routine.”
“Okay, like what?”
I shrugged, open to anything at this point. “Cally was telling me about a splatter painting class. We could do that.”
He looked shocked. “You want to splatter paint?”
I nodded. “Yeah, could be fun.” It honestly sounded freeing. Throwing paint at a canvas. It was better than being stuffed up in the house.
“Well, alright then. We can do that.”
I smiled. “Really? You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can go alone.”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll go. Might be fun. I’ve never done it.”
An hour later, we arrived at the paint studio. It was run by a sweet old couple who taught classes and offered free painting. It was just down the block from City Hall with a cute hand-painted sign in the front window.
The inside was charming, with clay figurines waiting to be picked to paint. There was artwork strung on the walls and a glass window dividing the rooms.
“Here is the room you guys will be using.” Beverly, the owner, opened the door to a small room.
The room smelled of paint, and two canvases were sitting waiting for them.
It was a white room, with paint splatter already covering most of the walls.
There was a tarp on the floor and paint cans waiting.
“I thought this was a class?” I turned, looking at Beverly. “It said that it was a class.”
She nodded. “Yes, but the other three were for a birthday, and they asked to come later instead. So, it’s just you two.”
“Is that a problem?” Klaus asked, glancing at me.
I shook my head. It wasn’t an issue, but I had hoped for some other chatter to drown out my thoughts. “No, I just wanted to make sure I had all the info I needed. So, this is the room.”
Beverly nodded. “Yeah, there are aprons behind the door on hooks. You have an hour to paint, and we keep the canvases for a week or two to dry.”
I nodded as Beverly shut the door, sealing Klaus and me alone again. Klaus looked around. “Seems like this place is popular. There is a lot of paint on the wall.”
I nodded, grabbing an apron. I threw it over and tightened it around me. Klaus grabbed the apron and scowled. “I don’t think this is going to help me.”
I took in the apron and then Klaus’s frame. The apron looked like it would maybe cover half of him, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “In their defense, I doubt they have a lot of large people who do this.”
He scoffed and hung his apron back up. “They should at least have something else. I’m not the only large person in this pack.”
“I could ask for a tablecloth.”
He crossed his arms, not looking impressed. “That’s a terrible joke.”
I smirked. “I wasn’t joking. We could tie it around you.”
“I think I’ll just go without.”
I took in his outfit. He was wearing jeans, but he had on a nice button-down. Why he decided to wear that, I’ll never know, but I would feel bad if it got ruined.
“That’s a nice shirt, Klaus. If this isn’t going to work, we can find something else to do.”
He started unbuttoning his shirt. “No, you wanted to paint, so we are going to paint.”
I watched him, my eyes staring. “What are you doing?”
“Taking my shirt off.”
“No, just… let me ask them for a tablecloth. I wasn’t joking about tying it around you.”
He snorted. “And have my dignity ruined? I think not.”
He finished and pulled his shirt off. My stomach bottomed out taking in his shirtless frame. I’d had sex with the man, and yet here I stood stunned.
“You’re going to get paint on you.”
He shrugged. “Better than the shirt.”
I tried to stop staring, but it was hard. Klaus was built and moved with grace. It was like he didn’t even know how perfectly put together he was.
“So, do you just splatter paint or do we actually paint?”
I shook my head and turned to the canvas. “It’s up to what you want to do.”
The paint cans were already open, with brushes inside. The room fell silent, except for a fan running.
“I’ve never painted.”
“Really?”
He nodded, reaching for a brush in the red can. “Yeah, we didn’t exactly have fun things to do growing up.”
I grabbed a brush, dripping blue paint onto the ground. I turned and threw my hand in a whipping motion, splattering blue across my canvas. “Because the town was small?”
He shook his head. “No, because my father wasn’t exactly nice.” He made a whipping motion, splattering red on his canvas. “He wanted me to focus on being a man rather than hobbies or making friends. He was a hard ass.”
“Sounds like he was an ass in general. Who doesn’t want their kids to have hobbies?”
He chuckled. “My father. He was very much the guy who had me on a strict schedule. I was up at the crack ass of dawn, worked to the bone, and worked until I had nothing left. I didn’t have days off because rest was for the weak.”
He paused, his eyes staring at his canvas.
I swallowed, seeing something shift in his gaze. I stayed still because this was the first time I was hearing about his life. I didn’t want him to stop.
A wounded child would always offer an ear to another wounded child.
“I actually got hospitalized when I was nine. I was so exhausted, and my mother was so worried.” He offered a small smile. “She taught me cards. It was the first time I’d done anything that wasn’t for my father.”
“Why was he so rough?”
“Generation learning. His father was, and his grandfather was. It’s likely why he died at age fifty.”
“And your mother?”
His lips pulled in, and I could see hurt in his eyes now. “She left. After my hospitalization, they started to fight more. She couldn’t stand watching him break me. So, she left.”
“Why didn’t she take you?”
He whipped his hand again, more red covering his canvas. “She couldn’t. I was next in line to be Alpha, and the council would never let her take me. My father would say she was trying to soften me. He had a way with words.”
“Have you looked for her?”
He nodded, his eyes staying on his canvas. “She died two years ago. She was married and expecting, but the baby came early, and she crashed. She lost too much blood and died.”
My heart twisted up.
He plopped his brush back into the can and grabbed the yellow. He splattered more paint, a smile pulling at his lips. “This is actually really fun.”
I swallowed. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You remind me of my mom, the way you look over your shoulder and tense up.”
“That’s not exactly a compliment.”
“Yeah, it felt like one before I added the details.”
The space felt too tense, too raw. I pulled my brush up and whipped my hand. Paint splattered across his chest, and Klaus’s eyes widened. The shocked look on his face brought a giggle from me.
“You did not.” He looked down at his chest and then brought his hand up. I moved back just as he whipped his hand, paint splattering forward. I whipped my hand, splattering more paint, and bounced behind the canvas.
Klaus followed me, whipping more paint. I threw some back at him, continuing to move around the paint. But my foot got caught on a paint can, and I squealed as I fell forward. Klaus caught me, yanking me against his chest.
“Oh shit,” I cursed, glancing down as the paint tipped, spilling over the ground. “Oh, it’s on my shoes.”
“We can clean them.”
I pulled my gaze up, locking eyes with Klaus. My face felt hot as I realized I was pressed tightly against him, his arms wrapped around me.
I swallowed, feeling my heart racing. “I’m going to have paint on me.”
He smirked. “Good. You deserve it for starting this.” He pulled his hand up, running his finger over my nose. I raised an eyebrow as his smirk grew. “Now we’re even.” I could see the paint on the tip of my nose and couldn’t hold back a laugh.
Klaus let go, and I stepped back. We looked at the paint cans and the canvases. I pointed. “We should probably continue with those rather than each other.”
“So, you’re saying a truce?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying.”
“Okay.” He grabbed a paintbrush, looking toward the canvas.
I chewed on my cheek. “Do you miss her?”
Klaus nodded. “Yeah. I do.” He tilted his head as he looked at me. “She would have loved this.”
I looked back at the canvas. I couldn’t help but feel a little closer to Klaus. We finished painting half an hour later, and every inch of the canvas was covered. Klaus went into the bathroom to clean himself up while I waited in the front.
“You guys finished already?” Beverly asked as she came in from another room.
I nodded. “Yeah. We had a blast. We also tipped over a paint can. We tried to clean it up.”
She waved a hand. “That’s okay. That’s what the tarps are for. As long as you guys had fun.”
I heard the bathroom door open. “Alright, I think I got all the paint off. Or at least everything that’s going to come off.” Klaus walked out, still with some paint in his hair and on his hands. But he had his shirt on now.