Page 17 of Stained Hearts
He laughed. “That’s not a scout sign. Looks more like you’re getting ready to fist someone.”
The moment the words left his lips, Aiden’s eyes opened wide.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…. Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and groaned. “Okay, I’m sorry for that and for saying fuck.” He tossed his head back and groaned. “Shoot me, please.”
There was no way I could hold in the laugh that bubbled out of me. “You’re funny.”
That brought him up short. His head snapped forward as he gave me a suspicious glare. “You think so?” He sighed and nibbled his bottom lip. “Most people find me annoying. Probably explains why I’ve never had a boyfriend.” He clapped a hand over his mouth, and I was rolling with laughter.
“Let me guess. Olivia limits your sugar intake because it makes you a little hyper?”
He shrugged. “Just a little. I mean, seriously, what does she expect? Who in their right mind says no to sugar?” He seemed wary. “My being gay isn’t going to bother you, right? I mean, I could suggest someone else for the window if you want.”
God, he was freaking adorable. “Nope. You’re the one I want to do this. I think your work is incredible, and I would be honored to have you creating something unique for me.”
“Wow. That’s…. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” He eyed the bag. “Could I have another?”
“When is Olivia coming home?”
“Midnight. She’s pulling a late night, helping with some project.”
“Okay, then, sure, you can have another.”
He practically tore the bag open to get at a chocolate-glazed long john, filled with chocolate creme. “Oh, these are my favorite!”
He licked at the hole where they’d injected the filling, and my mind went into overdrive with thoughts about better uses for that tongue.
Yup. Way too long since I’d been laid.
When he did it again, I bit back a groan. This kid was going to be the death of me.
Chapter Five
EVEN HYPEDup on sugar, Aiden was a wonder at the computer. His hands moved gracefully but with such speed that I was stunned. He worked on a program, with me standing behind him, trying to make sense of what he was doing.
He pointed to the monitor. “I know the site showed bits of blue glass in here, but what do you think if we went with various shades of red for the fire? Something to make it really stand out.”
“What’s your opinion?”
He beamed. “I think it would be more dramatic. Here, let me show you both.”
He clicked a few buttons, and another window opened next to the original. He started to fill in the design with different colors when I stopped him.
“What? You don’t like the red? I mean, we can do any color you like.”
“Tell you what. I’m going to leave this project in your hands. You’re the artist, and I’m dying to see what you create without any kind of interference from me.”
He spun around in his chair, his mouth wide-open. “You’d trust me? But what if I make a mistake? I don’t want you to hate it.”
His workroom had glass hanging in every conceivable location. There wasn’t a single piece that didn’t speak of someone who put his heart and soul into everything he did.
I waved a hand to indicate his work. “Look at what you’ve accomplished.” I reached out and squeezed his shoulder, hoping my gesture wouldn’t be misconstrued. “I would be a fool not to.”
“I…. Thank you.” His eyes shone in the light. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, how about you tell me how long you think it’ll take to make?”
He frowned. “This is the biggest project I’ve ever had to do.” He stared off into the distance, and I saw his fingers twitch, as if he was ticking off numbers. “Four, maybe six weeks. I can try to hurry it, but—”
