Page 35 of Artfully Wild
“Look, Hudson. Whatever my intentions are with Skylar are between her and me. And I get you have some brotherly need to protect her and make sure the person who likes her isn’t going to hurt her, but you’ve known me forever. She’s also a grown woman and can take care of herself. If she thought I had any intentions other than loving her the way she deserves, she would pulverize me.”
Hoping he doesn’t hang onto the fact I practically just said I loved his sister, I turn my back towards him before I give him a chance. “I appreciate you coming here, but I actually have to go meet her. We have a date that I know nothing about.” Throwing on my jacket, scarf and beanie, I open the door, gesturing for him to leave.
“Good morning, sis,” Hudson says, eyes looking past the door frame to the figure on the porch, bundled in clothes similar to mine, two coffees in hand.
“Why thefuckare you here?” No hesitation, just fire and heat behind her eyes. My girl. Her brows are furrowed as she looks up at me in hopes I will answer her question.
“Just came to give the big brother talk, apparently,” I murmur.
“That’s no way to greet anyone, let alone your dear brother.”
“You really came here to assert some weird dominance over my boyfriend?” She glares at him.
My head flits to hers at the word. We haven’t exactly gotten to the discussion part of the relationship in determining what exactly we are to each other. But I like the way it sounds on her lips. I want to hear it again, but before I can say anything, I see her eyes nervously flit to my face and back at her brother as if she is gauging my reaction. Did she mean to say it? Had she thought about it beforehand or did it slip out unintentionally and she wishes she could take it back? Her face softens and shegives me a small, reassuring smile just for me. Shockwaves roll down my back, her eyes studying my face for a brief second before I return her smile and the air around us shifts as both our shoulders visibly relax. There are times I think both of us overthink about what the other has on their mind. Something that comes with us crossing the line of the just friends territory.
“You two done staring at each other or do I need to leave the room? Unlike Fran and Cordie, Idon’twant a show.” Hudson’s voice is heavy and sarcastic.
Skylar doesn’t look away as she says, “See, I’ll do you the courtesy of kicking you out, because I care about keeping my private life private, which is something you apparently don’t do anymore if the smudges on your window are any indication.”
Hudson crosses the room in a relaxed gait, seemingly unfazed by her teasing. “You can blame Avery for that one. She started it.”
“Gross,” Sky and I say in unison.
“Don’t act like you’re such a prude.” Skylar’s cheeks turn a light pink as she turns away from her brother, helping herself to the rest of the coffee.
“Now, I’m kicking you out,” I say, placing a hand on his back and gently shoving him out the door. He holds up the mug he stole as he crosses the porch and heads down the stairs. “Thanks for the coffee, J!”
The door snicks shut and I take a deep breath before joining mygirlfriendin the kitchen.
“So…” I start as I round the kitchen island toward where she is busying herself with the different flavored syrups I have lined up on the counter. The way she looks, sifting through the flavors, picking the vanilla one of course, pouring way too much into her coffee, is so domestic. So normal. I like the way she looks here with me. I like the way she is with me.
I likeher.
The footfalls of my boots pound against the floor, and theonly other sound is the spoon clinking against the mug as she stirs in the vanilla. Placing my hands on the counter, her body framed between them, I angle my face toward hers, nudging the lobe of her ear with my nose. Her sharp inhale tells me this is something she likes. I want to find out what else she likes.
I trace her skin lightly with my nose, drawing a line up her neck until my lips are at the shell of her ear.
“Boyfriend, huh?” I smile. Not only because she lets out a small groan, but I smile because of her. Because of the way she makes me feel. The way she has made me feel for years and now, here we are, despite our deal, at home, skin to skin, imagining all the things we could be doing in this kitchen. On the counter. The island. The bar stools around the other side. So many options.
She nudges her cheek into me before turning abruptly in my arms, her chest coming into contact with mine. It’s my turn to have my breath taken away.
“Is that a problem?” Her voice is breathy, her words whispering across my lips. I give her a feather light kiss on her lips, not able to go another second without kissing her.
“I quite like the sound of that.”
She giggles against my lips and it’s the sweetest thing I have ever tasted. “Quite?”
“Yes, quite.”
“Such a proper gentleman,” she says in the worst British accent I have ever heard.
“Always proper for the lady,” I retort in an equally terrible accent. I reach out my arm the way I have seen the men do in all the classic films I’ve watched over the years. Warmth seeps through my jacket as she settles her hand in the crook of my elbow like she’s done hundreds of times. Except this time, it’s not a friendly touch between two people who vowed to never date. It’s not surface level. It’s a touch that breaks through the ice and dives deeper underwater until there is only a singleshining light from a deep sea creature finding its way. I smile down at her, allowing myself to bask in the way she’s looking at me like she sees me as so much more than what I usually show people. I’m always precariously walking on the ice, afraid to move in case it cracks and shows what’s actually hidden underneath—the feelings that have been pushed down for far too long.
“Shall we go?” I ask, without breaking the gentlemanly character I am playing from some random Jane Austen novel.
“We shall,” she answers with a smile as we walk hand in arm to the front door, onward to our date.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
