Page 9 of Artfully Wild
I drift off to sleep faster than usual and dream of hazel eyes, and of waking up to them seeing me in a different way.
CHAPTER FIVE
SKYLAR
“What do you think, Max?” I ask. Oblivious to the war waging in my brain, Max lounges in a display hammock. He at least gives me the courtesy of lifting his head to acknowledge my presence, but lays it back down after glancing at the display as if to say he doesn’t like the way I’ve arranged it. For the fourth time. I step back and look at the front window display I have been working on all morning and decide I agree with him. Again. So, for the fifth time, I start moving pieces out to start from scratch. After a few minutes, the area in front of the window is cluttered with skiing equipment, snowboards, winter boots, helmets, puffy jackets and everything else you could need while hiking to the top of a mountain, or skiing down one.
I keep trying to focus on what should go where, but Jacob’s words keep recycling through my head over and over.Just you.I have no idea what he meant by that.
Or I do and my brain is deciding to push the hope it brings me back into the abyss. I don’t think of myself as exactly desirable. I don’t dress like a typical woman really. Growing up, the girls around me were in dresses and frilly things while I was inpants and oversized shirts. It took me a long time to figure out what I like to wear, what I look good in and what actually feels good on my body, and not just mentally but physically too.
Soft thumps come from the stairs and I avoid looking back, knowing Jacob is coming down. I immediately wonder how he’s feeling and whether the sleep helped his migraine. Whether or not his hair is mussed from sleeping or if he’s running his hands through it now to tame it before I turn around or pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose is none of my business.
Nope. Not picturing any of that at all.
Except that I am, and then my traitorous brain goes even further to picture him coming downstairs shirtless and just in the pair of light blue scrub pants he didn’t have a chance to change out of last night. I wouldn’t be upset if he decided to walk around shirtless. It’s not like I haven’t seen him without a shirt, but knowing what I know now, what I have noticed now, I think I’d like to see it in a different light.
“Morning!” I call behind me, without turning around, my arms full of gear, attempting to focus on not tripping over the pair of snow boots I’m trying to step over. It obviously would have been smarter to move those, but it’s too late for that.
“You need help?”
My body instantly tenses at his morning voice, deep with a slight rasp, and I hope he doesn’t notice. “No, I’ve got it.” That’s a lie. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“Are you sure?” I hear him take a step closer, his hands radiating heat a few inches from my elbow.
“Yeah, I’m fi—” I get out before tripping over the helmet I didn’t see in front of the boots and falling into the rest of the equipment I had already arranged in the display. Good thing I was most likely going to start over anyway.
“Should have taken the help, sweetheart,” he says, holding out a hand to me.
I feel a stinging sensation on the side of my calf and I hiss asI grab the hand he offers me and let him pull me to my feet. I collide with his chest and my hands wrap around his bare bicep, holding myself steady. My brain quiets for the first time all day and I inhale his scent. An artificial rainforest smell masking a slight scent of bleach in a doctor’s office. On Jacob, the combination is dulled by the natural scent of his skin and I want to let myself indulge in it.
“You’re bleeding.” His voice cracks the silence and the stinging in my leg intensifies. I turn my calf around and look down. Sure enough, there is a thin trail of bright red slowly sliding down my leg a few inches away from my high tops I threw on with my sleep shorts. My first thought is relief that it is my left leg and not the one with the new tattoo I just got last week. My second is realizing Jacob is holding my hips to keep me steady as he kneels down in front of me to inspect the cut.
Goosebumps rise at the sight of him kneeling in front of me and my breath hitches, lodging in my chest, an unmovable object. I keep my eyes ahead and try to focus on anything but the fact my best friend is on his knees in front of me and I am wishing it was for a completely different reason.
He continues inspecting the cut, grabbing a piece of fabric from one of the opened boxes surrounding us to clean up the blood so he can see it. His hand slows as he looks closer, his other hand resting on the inside of my leg. I find myself wishing he would graze it lightly against my skin, trailing upward, reaching the bottom hem of my shorts—
“It’s a little deep, but you’ll survive,” he says in almost a whisper, startling me back to the actual present. “The good thing is I won’t have to stitch you up, but let's at least keep this from getting infected.” He stands and grabs my hand, pulling me to the back room where he knows I keep a first aid kit. Once he gets to the door, he drops my hand and rummages around on one of the shelves for the clear box.
“Didn’t you organize this room last week?” he asks as he moves to a different shelf.
“I started to and then I realized I needed to update the website, and then remembered I had to plan the new display, so I ended up doing that instead.” For me, I always start the day with a main task in mind and by the end of the day I have ended up doing five other tasks and have managed to fully finish two of them, leaving my original one incomplete because I forgot about it throughout the day. I can’t help it.
“Ah, here it is.” He turns and gestures to the top of a nearby crate storing a shipment of boots that are half unpacked. I sit and stretch out my left leg, careful not to get blood on the floor. He drags over a box and sits a few inches away, pulling my leg into his lap. He adjusts it and leaves a red streak behind on his pants.
“Jacob, your pants.” He makes eye contact with me and holds my gaze.
“You think I care about anything but you right now? Forget the pants, I can buy more.” He says it so quietly, I almost question if he said it at all. He goes back to focusing on my leg and I watch his every movement, precise and practiced. I only close my eyes when the alcohol stings my leg. I lean my head back and try to focus on the feeling of his hands on my leg rather than the pain.
My mind wanders back to what he looked like kneeling in front of me moments before. I picture his hand moving until it reaches my shorts and when it does, he doesn’t hesitate, moving his way up my body, leaving kisses on my skin as he goes. I imagine him telling me to lose my shorts in a deep and low tone, a groan leaving his lips when I listen.
“There, you’re all fixed up.” My eyes snap open and they lock with his. I hadn’t noticed how close he was before, but he’s close enough I can see the flecks of green in his eyes and the slight shadow his eyelashes cast against his cheek bones. Hiseyes flick to my cheeks. “Why are you so flushed?” he asks softly.
Maybe it’s the dim lighting of the storage room or the fact that he still has his hand on my leg, his thumb stroking soft circles on my skin, but right now it feels like we are the only two people that exist. The world has ended and this small storage room is our sanctuary away from the apocalypse. Just us. I swallow and his eyes land on my throat. He leans forward, reaching his hand out to me, placing the pad of his thumb on the edge of my jaw, trailing a line back until he is cupping the base of my hairline.
I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t think I want it to stop. We have always been affectionate with each other, but we have never been likethis.We’ve never crossed that line, but suddenly, I don’t think either of us cares what happens if we do. Closer and closer—until echoes of bells sound across the store, seemingly louder than usual as we are thrust back into reality. Back to Earth. Back from our perfect planet where we were the only ones to exist for a few perfect minutes.
I consider ignoring whoever just walked in, closing the storage room door and pulling Jacob to me, something I’ve felt the physical need to do for months. Well, years really, but with more intensity. I start to reach for him and fulfill my desires, but a frail, too innocent voice, breaks the moment. A voice I’d recognize from a mile away.
