Page 42 of Finding New Dreams

He frowned. “I wouldn’t just leave without saying anything. I thought I’d come back here and play around with an idea that’s been stuck in my head since yesterday morning. Must’ve lost track of the time.”

I nodded, plunging my hands into the pockets of my dress. He’d been skittish since he’d come in this morning—not wanting to engage in conversation, not making eye contact.

Although, come to think of it, he’d been distant with me since our kayak trip. Since I’d told him I had a date.

Was that it? Was he worried I might share details?

Flynn shifted the easel around so the canvas faced the wall, packed up the paints, and grabbed his jacket. “I’ll get out of your hair then. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait! You—you can’t leave.”

His eyebrows shot up.

I swallowed hard. “The storm got pretty bad. Much worse than they predicted. You really shouldn’t be walking anywhere. It could start hailing anytime.”

His jaw tightened as if the idea of being stuck with me was physically painful.

Ignoring the twinge in my chest, I smiled. “I’d offer to drive you, but I took my car to Carter for an oil change this morning and he still has it.”

He dropped his jacket on the table. “I guess I’ll wait it out here then. Do you mind if I continue to use the studio?”

“Of course not. But, if you want—you totally don’t have to—you could come upstairs. Get something to eat or drink while you wait?”

Finally, a small smile curled around the edges of his full lips. “You’re inviting me into your apartment?”

Warmth rose in my cheeks. “Yeah. No pressure though.”

“None taken. I’d love to go upstairs with you.”

My hands clutched the insides of my pockets at the deep, smoky tone of his voice. Turning abruptly so he couldn’t see my reaction, I headed for the door. His footsteps followed me.

I hesitated and looked over my shoulder where he hovered behind me, his warm, seductive scent reaching out like an invitation.

“We’ll have to run,” I said, then held up the key to my apartment. “You ready?”

He grinned, his eyes flicking from mine to my mouth. “Always.”

Heart in my throat, I shoved the door open and raced up the stairs to my apartment. I expected the rain to soak me through in seconds, but Flynn stayed close behind me, a pillar of warmth, holding his jacket over my head.

My ballet flats squished as I shoved the key in the lock and burst inside, Flynn right on my heels. He shut the door. His fingers hovered over the lock, then he pulled away without touching it.

I busied myself digging a few towels out of my linen closet. I tossed him one, which he caught one-handed as he hung his wet jacket on one of my coat hooks by the door.

His dark hair was even darker wet, hanging around his face in dripping tendrils. My heart squeezed hard. I wanted to run my fingers through those strands, taste the rain glistening on his lips. His white t-shirt clung to him like scales on a fish, outlining the cut of his muscular chest and abdomen.

“You keep looking at me like that, Rose, and I will lock that door,” he said, his voice jagged and growling.

Goosebumps flared over my skin, and I jerked my gaze back up to his. I sucked in a quick breath. The storm outside had nothing on the one in his beautiful turquoise eyes.

I backed up a step before I could run into that storm as surely as I had outside.

“I—I don’t have anything for you to change into. But you could take off your shoes and socks and…shirt, if you want.”

What was I saying? Was I seriously asking him to get half-naked in my apartment, after he’d just caught me staring at him like he was a six-foot-tall bar of chocolate I wanted to sink my teeth into?

He flashed me a wicked smirk as he kicked off his shoes and tugged his t-shirt over his head.

I spun away from him before I could catch a glimpse of his bare chest, and almost ran into a wall. “I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer with my stuff in just a minute. Just, um, go ahead and dry off.”

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