Page 24 of My UnTrue Love
Bill squinted in genuine confusion. Many artists were introverted. He didn’t understand why she’d need other people around.
Clementine tried to translate the concept. “There’s a huge world happening in your mind.” She gestured towards his head. (His skull was so nicely shaped. Very dignified and noble.) “Music plays just for you, in your brain. Symphoniesthat you conduct, all on your own. Time passes and you barely notice.”
Bill blinked. “Yeah.” He agreed, like he’d never really thought about it before.
“And you hear that music best when you’re alone. When it’s quiet and there are no distractions. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I don’t have that kind of…”
“I hear it best when I’m with you.” He interrupted.
Her heart flipped, but she forced herself to be pragmatic about his words. He wasn’t thinking about her romantically. Yet. “Well, it’s not surprising you feel that way, when we’re together. Artists are always more comfortable around muses.”
“I’m not an artist.”
“Of course you are.” Clementine had never met anyone so gifted in her whole life. “But my inner world isn’t quite so bright and busy as yours. I’d like to have a roommate.”
“Afemaleroommate.”
“Oh, I’m used to living with men.” First her foster brothers and then Johnny. It was normal for her. Clementine kept going, full speed ahead on her rapidly developing plan. “How many bedrooms does this place have?”
Bill went still.
Shoot. That was too pushy. Chasing cowboys was hard.
“Not thisexactplace.” She backpedaled, so she didn’t scare him. “Obviously, you wouldn’t want me moving in here with you. Maybe I could rent an apartment in the building, though. I mean, like, on another floor or…”
He cut her off, his voice more animated than usual. “I’ve got two bedrooms. The second one’s through there.” He gestured towards the hallway. “It’s empty.”
She frowned. “You have a totally empty room in your apartment? Why?”
“Nothin’ to fill it with.” Icy blue eyes gleamed, like his coyote-self was more awake than usual and observing the exchange closely. “Not until you wanted to move in.”
It was a testament to his accommodating nature that he could make her idea seem like his own plan. Bill really was the kindliest man she’d ever met.
…But then he had no idea her feelings for him had veered away from simple friendship and into more. Was that fair? Clementine wasn’t certain it was fair. Being assertive was new to her, so she might be taking advantage of Bill.
“Are yousureyou wouldn’t feel crowded by me, living in such close quarters?”
“Darlin’, the closer you live, the better I’ll feel.”
Pleasure suffused her and her doubts faded. He’d thank her for pushing him into this, once she proved to him that they were perfect together. Sometimes artists needed help to see the bigger picture.
“I picked this place because it’s safe enough.” Bill went on. “But no placefullysafe woulda rented to me. So, you gotta be very careful while you’re here. Keep the doors locked. Don’t go near Woody, the scumbag landlord. Stay inside at night. Don’t talk to anyone…”
Clementine cut him off. “Well, Ihaveto talk to the boy next door.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do! He has talent and he’s all alone. He has to have support.” She kept going, so he couldn’t protest that reasoning. “I can’t ignore your neighbors, but I can try to do the rest. And I won’t be a bother to you, either. I promise. I know that artists need their space.”
“I never need space from you. I never need anything, butsurelynot space. And, like I’ve said a heap of times, I’m not an artist, so…”
She interrupted him again. “Youarean artist.”
He wasn’t interested in discussing his talent. Usually, artists knew they had a gift, but Bill always seemed downright baffled by her faith in him. “So, when can you move in?”
Clem felt giddy at how easy it had been to convince him. “I mean… I guess next month?”
Russet eyebrows shot up. “Amonth? No.” He shook his head, like that was crazy talk. “How about tonight?”
