Page 44 of Falling for the Bad Boy
“You okay?” His voice came out gruff, like he hadn’t spoken in hours even though it had only taken us about ten minutes to go from flirting to wholly, deliciously fucked.
“I don’t think I’ll be wearing shorts for the next few days, but yeah, I’m fine.” My knees burned from kneeling on the hard wooden floor, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Oliver didn’t know it, but he had the ability to take me to heights I hadn’t reached before. No need to admit it to the man, it would only give him more ammunition to use against me. But I knew it.
“Sorry about that. I should have found something soft to put under you.” He traced the curve of my hip with his finger.
The paint had pretty much dried. Did I want to see the damage we’d done to my sign? “It was worth it.” There, that was about as close as I could go to paying him a compliment and letting him know just how much I’d enjoyed our finger-painting lesson.
“You going to soap me off now?” The whiskers on his chin scraped against my neck. The sensation was oddly comforting. Maybe I could get used to sharing more than something physical with a guy. My stomach clenched as I considered what that might mean. Giving up my freedom. Giving up control.
“You really want to try out my shower?” I asked.
“How bad could it be?” He ran his palm over my shoulder and picked at the paint. “You don’t want to live like a reject from the Blue Man Group, do you?”
Despite my reservations, I let out a laugh. “No. But I haven’t got around to doing much with it.”
“We could go next door and use mine instead.”
My heart hiccupped. “But we’d have to go outside.”
“Yep.” He rolled over me. “I could wrap you in a tarp and carry you upstairs.”
“You want someone to think you’re bringing a dead body into your apartment?” I teased.
His hand cupped my ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’d say you’re very much alive.”
“How bad do I look?” I glanced down, trying to see how much of my skin had turned blue.
“You look damn good to me.” Oliver sat, pulling me up next to him. “Maybe we should stay here until it wears off.”
Stifling a laugh, I ran my gaze over his chest. Half a heart remained where I’d painted an outline on his pec. The plaid lines had merged together, making the rest of his chest a solid mass of blue. The canvas I’d worked so hard on earlier looked even worse. Streaks of blue, smudges where we’d rolled around, and drips of paint covered the background. Blue paint obscured half of the letters.
“Sorry about the sign.” Oliver stood then reached down to help me up. “Do you want me to help you fix it?”
“No. Definitely not.” I searched the floor for my pants. “I’ve seen how you handle a paintbrush.”
He grinned, his smile making my stomach warm. Fine, he was cute. Absolutely adorable the way the edges of his lips ticked up. That didn’t mean anything.
“Do you mind if I use your shower?” I reached for my shirt. The paint had pretty much dried. If I was careful, I should be able to toss on my clothes long enough to get over to Oliver’s place.
“Only if you let me soap your back.” He handed me the jeans I’d had on before stepping into his own.
A flicker of heat sparked in my chest. If I let Oliver in the shower with me, I’d never get around to finishing the sign tonight. “You know, as tempting as that sounds, I think I should take a rain check.”
His smile faded. “I was just joking. About soaping your back.”
“Some other time, okay?” It had taken me hours to do the lettering on the sign. If I started now maybe I’d be done fixing it before midnight.
He held his shirt to his chest. His hair stuck out on the side, and I wanted to smooth it down. He’d slid his jeans on over his hips but hadn’t buttoned them yet. My hands itched to pull them back down and spend the rest of the evening rolling around in the paint with him. But that wouldn’t get any of the items checked off my list and that’s what I was all about now…getting things done, becoming the business maven my grandmother knew I could be, even though I still didn’t see that part of myself yet.
“Yeah, okay.” He gathered his things and made his way toward the stairs. “See you around.”
Something tugged at my heart. I didn’t want to send him off like this. “Oliver, wait.”
He paused at the top of the steps. “What do you want?”
What did I want? Not to tie myself down. Not to become just like my parents and my older brothers and sisters. “I don’t know.” That was probably the most honest answer I’d given anybody since I’d come back to town.
His shoulders slumped, his head hanging down, so he looked at his feet. His blue feet. “You let me know when you figure it out.”
