Page 20 of Quiet
An image of Briar winding the material around Isa’s body and tucking in bits and pieces here and there nearly had steam coming out of his ears.
“I think I can manage!” Isa squeaked and closed the curtain in Briar’s face. He needed a distraction before he ended up needing a notebook to hide behind when he came out of the dressing area, so he asked, “How is our duck doing?”
There was a pause, and Isa realized he’d forgotten Briar might not be able to answer him. He was about to poke his head out of the curtain when he heard Briar say, “Sleeping.”
A frisson of energy went through Isa at the sound of Briar’s voice. He really needed to stop talking to the man. It was becoming a serious problem.
“Oh good,” Isa said awkwardly. He wanted to ask if the duck had been an imposition for them, but that might result in Briar responding, so, instead, he pulled off his shirt and jeans and began to wind the fabric around himself. Today he’d worn plain white boxers. No hearts or bright colors that might show through the fabric or embarrass him if he got disrobed again.
While he changed, he heard Alex say, “I promise you, Will. Your friend is safe with us.”
“I can tell. With the way your large, brooding friend is guarding the changing room, I don’t imagine anything getting past him.”
Alex laughed. “Briar? Don’t mind him, he’s probably afraid you’ll come at Isa with a bucket of paint or something. He gets pretty intense about his projects.”
“Hmm . . .” Will said, noncommittally.
Isa burst from the changing area before Will had a chance to say something he’d need to be defenestrated for. “Should we get started? Where’s Bea?”
“She’s running late, but she’ll be here soon. We can get started without her,” Alex said from his easel. He and Will were side by side, looking through a sketchpad together.
“Wait,” Briar put a hand on Isa’s chest to stop him from moving past him. He took the material from Isa’s shoulder and pulled up. Isa looked down and realized that in his haste to shut Will up, he’d done a slapdash job of wrapping. It was already beginning to slip down one hip.
Isa stared at the ceiling and thought about mud while Briar rearranged the fabric, doing exactly what Isa had tried to avoid.
He made the fatal mistake of locking eyes with Will, who grinned deviously and mouthed the wordsthirsty bitchat him.
Isa looked away, but Briar seemed to be taking up all of the space in the room. Everywhere Isa turned he saw a set of broad shoulders, or a strong jawline with a hint of stubble, or a chest you could bounce a quarter off.
Isa shivered. The warm hands tucking the fabric around his waist weren’t helping either.
“Cold?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Briar raised an eyebrow at the goose bumps running along Isa’s arms. He draped the fabric back over Isa’s shoulder, put his hands on Isa’s arms, and started to rub them up and down.
If Isa had been a popsicle, he would have melted into a puddle on the floor. As it was, he was finding it very difficult to not sway forward and burrow into Briar like he was Isa’s personal teddy bear. He needed to get a handle on himself ASAP.
This wasn’t like him at all. Isa got little crushes from time to time, but he’d never been driven to act on them. Right now, his body was actively betraying him. Maybe he should get a little rubber band to put on his wrist—he could snap it when he started to lose control.
He could really go for one of those right now because Briar’s hands on his skin were driving him insane.
“Okay, I’m good. All warmed up.” Isa tried to move past Briar.
“Not done.” Briar reached for Isa’s waist, moving right past Isa’s meager defense of a hastily blurted “Um!” and reached into the folds, tucking in a clip so it would be hidden.
“Oh . . . thanks.” Isa reached up to cover his burning cheeks. What the heck was wrong with him? Every time the man spoke, it woke up an ember inside Isa he hadn’t known about, and it grew hotter with every word. Being touched by him was making it so much worse.
“You’re welcome.” Briar’s voice hit Isa’s nervous system like rich, dark coffee with a hint of maple syrup—he hadn’t expected him to respond. Isa resisted the urge to cover the man’s mouth.
Isa would just stop talking to him. That’s what he would do.
Except, that would be rude, wouldn’t it?
Maybe he could talk to him only when necessary.
While Isa pondered this, Briar placed a hand on Isa’s bare back and gently herded him toward the pillow throne.
