Page 45 of Rivals
After we regain our bearings, he releases me, and I step under the water to clean myself up before shutting the faucet off. Lachlan steps out first and hands me a towel before wrapping one around his waist. I start to step out, and he grabs my chin between his finger and thumb, avoiding the bruise. “Just because we saw stars doesn’t mean I forgot. But right now, I want to get back to work. I feel like I have to paint.”
I feel it, too. That clawing and gnawing need to actualize the vision in my head, our vision. He roams out of the bathroom, and I finish drying myself off. I hesitate as I hang up the towel because I don’t have my clothes in here. I have to go pull some out of my bag.
But if he wants a muse, I’ll give him a muse. I walk out of his bathroom, naked and clean. Before I can mess with him, he tosses his towel at me. “The windows are open. Someone could see you,” he growls.
“Then maybe you should have brought me some clothes.”
“Keep looking at me like that, and we will never get anything done.” He takes a step toward me, and I hold his towel up to my chest, realizing he is right. There is another building across the street, almost at eye level with his windows.
“We already gave them a show. We might as well provide an encore,” I joke.
“I’ll close the curtains, Revna, and show you what an encorereallyis.”
His eyes graze my skin, and I drop the towel, smirking at him. “Where do I get my tickets?” I taunt him. He growls, walks over to my bag, pulls out a big t-shirt, and throws it at me.
“It’s a private show,” he says. My stomach flutters as I pull the shirt over my head.
“Thank you.”
“You are trouble, little bird.”
“You wanted this,” I quip. I joke, but I’m waiting for the tide to change. I’m waiting for him to say yeah,but just for a little bit.Not that I’m looking for forever with him. I was fine with a one-time situation, but he is obviously not. I don’t know why I said yes to any of it. My goal was to do this, then get in and get out. Now I’m living with him, we just had sex, and we are making art together.
That’s a lot. Probably not how you intended things to go.
“Yeah, you could say that again.” My lips snap shut. I just responded to the voice in my head.
“What?” he says from across the room.
“Oh, uh… nothing,” I say, grabbing a hair tie and tossing my hair up into a messy bun. I pull on some leggings and go back over to our canvas. Hopefully, he will just think I was talking to myself. The normal way, not because there is a voice that talks to me. I know I’ve done too much OBA. I know that, but…I don’t want to give it up, either. I know that should scare me. I know that it means other things, but I’m just using it to survive right now. When this is all over, I’ll stop.
You should stop now.
“Shut up,” I grumble.
“Are you talking to yourself?” Lachlan asks.
“Oh, yeah, just working something out.” I risk a glance at him, and he’s giving me a funny look. Maybe he thinks he screwed my brains out, too. I mean, he did, and he is well aware of it. He’s just not aware of the fact that I’m slowly but surely losing my mind. I think it’s the drugs, but I really can’t be sure.
I go back to my palette, mix a few paints, and get back to work. I can feel Lachlan looking at me, but I’m wholly focused on what I’m making. I fall into that space of consciousness where I’m hardly aware of what’s going on around me. My soul feels like it’s singing, and the tension that I constantly carry around me eases. I feel human.
“Food is ready,” Lachlan says. I nod and finish my base for a few of the people around the center point. “Revna, you need to eat.”
“I know,” I mumble and draw the edge of my brush below an arm to create a light shadow. I dab a bit more paint on my brush and continue my long line around the edges of the figures. A hand stops mine, and he lifts it carefully from where it is, and I look up at him. He’s crouched down next to me, and his gaze is so firm that I shift uncomfortably. He takes the paintbrush out of my hand, sets it on the palette, and pulls me to my feet.
“I wasn’t finished with that.”
“I know, but if you don’t eat, you’ll blow away in the breeze.” It’s not that I don’t like to eat. I do, but I have this single-track mind and don’t think about anything else when working on something. I’ve gone almost two days without food before. I just drank water and coffee. I know it’s not healthy, but the beast won’t let me go. It demands my full attention.
“What did you get?” I ask him, wondering what he ordered.
“I didn’t order anything. I made it.”
My eyes widen. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
He smiles. “I didn’t either until I was forced to learn how. Honestly, I drink protein shakes half the time.”
“Ahh, so that’s where the that’s build comes from.” I look at him in sweatpants, hanging off his body like they were made for him. His baggy shirt hides his top from me, but I can still see his drool-worthy lean arms with a bit of veining that pops when he’s painting.
