Chapter 3
Chapter Three
B
When Raina messaged me earlier today to tell me about her surgery, I didn't need to go look at the profile of her suggested replacement.
Of course, I've already stalked him. He's one of the shop owners, and he happens to be fine as fuck.
That is, if you're into men with tattoos all over their chiseled bodies who look like they harbor a few dark demons.
I’ve been on a little bit of a dry spell with men recently. Since Fia moved in, we’ve been hooking up a decent amount, and outside of the apartment, I’ve been mostly flirting with women. I’m overdue for some good dick.
Mmmm, what I wouldn’t give to have those ink-covered hands all over my body. I imagine they’re strong and talented since he uses them every day. I also bet he's got a kinky side. Fuck, I hope he does. I'd let him tie me up and call me a good girl.
"Shit!”
I look up from whatever my daydream's stare was fixated on. I'm pretty sure the curse just came from the student I would have least expected it from.
"Something wrong, Clover?" I reluctantly get out of my chair and walk over to where she's sitting behind her easel.
When I get to her side and the canvas no longer blocks my view, I can see that she's covered in blue paint.
"I'm sorry."
"It's all good. Go wash yourself up in the sink over there, and I'll clean this up."
She jumps from her stool and shuffles over to the sink, trying not to let the blob of paint that's in her hands and all over her arm drop. I get to work cleaning up the paint that's splattered on the floor.
God, this is why I hate kids. They're always so fucking messy.
If Liam had told me that there would be a kid in his adult painting class, I would have said no when he asked me to sub for him.
What is she doing here, anyway? She has to be like six years old.
Actually, I have no clue how old she is.
I was never good at guessing ages. Regardless, she's too young for me to have any patience for her bullshit.
A few months ago, friends from my hometown, Liam and Evie, had their first baby.
Evie, being the go-getter that she is, wanted to get back to work as soon as possible, so they decided that Liam would stay home with the baby for a few more months.
He had already committed to teaching this painting class at a local community art center, so he asked me to be his replacement.
It’s only once a week for eight weeks, so I figured, why not?
I haven’t been traveling as much for work since Daniel hired Fia, and lately I’ve been getting bored with all the extra free time I have.
Just as I’m finishing cleaning up the paint-splattered floor, I start to wonder where she is. It can’t take that long to wash paint off your arms. But I guess when you’re a kid...
“Fuck!” I put my hand on my chest to steady my racing heart. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” I stand up and look down at the little girl who was standing behind me. “How long were you standing there for?”
She shrugs, still looking embarrassed by her accident.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have cussed in front of you.”
“That’s okay. My dad cusses all the time.”
“Good.” Thank goodness she’s not a little nark. The last thing I need is for Liam to get a complaint from an angry parent about his potty-mouthed substitute.
“I said shit.”
I scrunch my eyebrows together, not sure what her point is.
“Earlier, when the paint tube exploded. I said shit.”
“Cool…” Thinking back on it, she did cuss, didn’t she? I didn’t think anything of it at the time.
“You’re not mad?”
“No.” This is so uncomfortable. I didn’t sign up to be anyone’s parent.
“I’m only allowed to say bad words at home. My parents call them home words. It’s okay if I say them in anger at home, but they said I shouldn’t say them in public or else adults will get mad at me.”
“Well, say all the home words you want here. I don’t give a shit.”
The corners of her mouth turn up, and she lets out a quiet giggle. “I like you.”
I feel myself smile back at her. There's no way I'm starting to grow a soft spot for this kid just because she's a little potty-mouth. “How old are you anyway?”
“Eight.“
“And what are you doing in an adult art class?”
She shrugs, her arms out to the sides. “How am I supposed to know? My dad signed me up.”
Now I’m laughing? What the hell. I remind myself to ask Liam about this later. Maybe it was a mistake.
“Alright, kid, get back to work.” I give her blonde head an awkward pat and start walking back to my desk.
I’m stopped in my tracks when her canvas catches my eye.
“Holy shit.” I was too focused on cleaning up the paint earlier that I didn’t even notice what she’s been working on for the past two hours. “Clover…”
“What?” She looks from me to her painting, then back to me.
“Okay, girl, I see you. This is pretty damn good.”
“Thanks.” Her cheeks turn pink, and I can see her closing in on herself.
Being friends with Iris has taught me what this body language means. “No way, little missy. You stop that right now.”
Her eyes go wide, and she looks like she’s about to cry.
Fuck, I’m bad with kids. “I just mean that this is really fucking good. You should be proud of yourself. Don’t be shy. You need to act like you know how good you are.” I grab her shoulder and give her a little shake. “Promise me the next time someone compliments you, you’ll own it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I stare down at her until her eyes go back to a normal size and her face softens into a smile.
I hope I didn’t just traumatize her. I just can’t stand when talented women and girls aren’t confident in their skills.
And since I’m stuck with this girl for the next eight weeks, I’ve now made it my mission to make sure she knows how damn good she is.
“Good. Try not to make any more messes.”
“I’ll try.”
The class ends, thankfully, with no more messes for me to clean up. Clover mostly kept to herself, humming what I’m pretty sure were Sleep Token songs. Girl has good taste. It actually gave me a really cool idea for my tattoo.
I message Kass again to let him know about the slight change in plans, and he seems pretty excited about it.
I can’t stop scrolling through his profile.
Most of the pictures on his feed are of tattoos he’s done, but a few of them are of him tattooing someone or group shots at various tattoo conferences.
I keep zooming in on his arms in pictures where he’s wearing short sleeves. They’re covered in beautiful ink.
Probably not the best move to get horny for my tattoo artist before he’s about to tattoo my stomach, but I can’t help it. I’m a sucker for bad boys. Or at least guys who look like bad boys. He’s been very professional in our messages, but I can’t help but secretly hope he's into me too.
I wait for the last of the students to file out of the room before I start cleaning up.
As I’m carefully stacking the canvases in the corner to dry, I take a picture of Clover’s painting and send it to Liam.
B
You didn’t tell me I’d be babysitting.
Liam
You mean Clover?
She’s really sweet, you shouldn’t have a problem with her.
B
I don’t like kids.
Liam
Did you have a problem with her today?
B
Yes. She spilled a bunch of paint on herself and the floor.
Liam
Did it get cleaned up?
B
Of course.
Liam
So...you’re fine.
B
If she starts giving me a headache, I’m dragging your ass back here faster than you can come.
Liam
Damn, that’s fast.
B
I will admit, she’s pretty damn talented, though.
Liam
Right?
Can you send me a picture of what she worked on today?
B
That’s the first thing I sent you.
Liam
I see it now. Sorry, I missed it at first. We’re very sleep-deprived in this house.
B
Exactly why I’m never having children. I NEED sleep, or I turn into a crabby, man-eating monster.
Liam
Do you not sleep well most nights then?
B
Shut up.
Liam
Thanks again for subbing for me. If Iris didn’t draw like a five-year-old, I would have asked her.
B
To be fair, all your sister does is do art projects with five-year-olds all day long.
Liam
Don’t let her hear you say that.