âI hate having to leave you by yourself so often,â Ezra says, his suitcase by his side. âI tried to stay most of the weekend, but I really need to go or I wonât get there in time for my meeting tomorrow. Are you sure youâre going to be okay?â
I smile shakily. Heâd be so disappointed if he knew what Iâm about to do. âIâll be fine,â I murmur. âBesides, Archer is next door. If I need anything, Iâll just go bother him. I doubt heâll mind.â
Ezra nods. âIâll see you in three days, then. Iâm sorry I havenât been here more, Serenity. Iâd hoped to help you settle in and show you some of my favorite places in town, but work has just been so busy.â
I brush my hand over his arm and shake my head. âIâm not a child anymore, you know. You donât have to worry about me so much.â
He sighs and gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. âI know, but to me youâre still the baby I vowed to protect when I was ten. I donât think thatâll ever change.â
My heart wrenches, and I rise to my tiptoes to kiss my brotherâs cheek. Our age difference has always made him overprotective, and heâs right, it probably wonât ever change. âHave a safe flight. Text me when you land, okay?â
Ezra nods and walks out, seemingly reluctantly. Iâve never felt so conflicted. If he ever found out what Iâm about to let his best friend do to me, heâd never forgive either of us.
Iâm still second-guessing myself when I ring Archerâs doorbell, but my doubts melt away when he opens the door wearing gray sweats and a tight black tee, a towel in one hand and drops of water running down his neck. Our eyes lock, and he steps aside silently to let me in.
âThereâs something Iâd like to show you,â he says, tipping his head toward the hallway. âFollow me.â
I bite down on my lip as he leads me to his guest room, the same one I stayed in that night I showed up here unexpectedly, and all the while I try my best to keep my eyes off his muscular back. All of a sudden, I feel entirely out of place. I wanted to do this with Archer because I thought heâd make me feel safe and comfortable, but now that Iâm standing here with him, Iâm not sure I have the confidence to see it through. Someone like himâ¦God, I could never live up to his expectations or even his past experiences.
âHere we are,â he murmurs, pushing the door open.
âWow,â I whisper, my eyes widening when I take in the thousands of dollarsâ worth of art suppliesâcanvases, easels, incredibly expensive acrylics and brushes. âWhat is all this?â
I whirl around to face him, only to find him smiling at me sweetly. This. This is exactly why I chose himâbecause heâd never hurt me, would never even dream of it.
He takes a step closer to me, and my heart skips a beat. âI told you to paint me something, so itâs only fair I provide you with what youâll need for it.â
âArcher,â I whisper, my eyes falling closed when he cups my face. âThis wouldâve easily cost you twenty grand. Itâsâ¦itâs too much.â
âNo,â he tells me, stepping closer until Iâm pressed against the doorway, his body brushing against mine. âIt isnât enough, but itâs a start. Youâve missed it, havenât you? Painting has always been an outlet for you, and I want you to have this, here, with me.â
I stare at him wide-eyed, emotions threatening to overwhelm me. âH-How did youâ¦â
Iâve missed painting on canvas more than he could possibly understand, but I promised myself Iâd try to put it behind me. Every time I hold a brush, Iâm filled with grand dreams and equally grand fears all over again, and I canât keep doing that to myself, and I canât take the disdain in my motherâs eyes every time I mention my art.
âI havenât seen any paint stains on your hands since you went to college, no lingering acrylics smell in your hair. I know you, Serenity. I know youâll need to paint to ease your broken heart, so paint for me, darling.â
My gaze roams over his face, pausing on his lips for a moment. âThank you. For all of this, forâ¦â My voice breaks, and he sighs as he brushes the back of his hand over my cheek.
âGo check out your new supplies,â he tells me. âI know youâre dying to.â
I hesitate, my heart pounding wildly. âI thought weâdâ¦â
Archer smirks, his gaze darkening. âImpatient, hmm?â he whispers, sliding a hand around my waist. I startle a little, and he chuckles. âLetâs take it slow, Serenity. I want you dripping for me by the time I lay you down in my bed.â
My breath hitches, and he grins as he steps back, tipping his head toward the easel set up for me. âGo on,â he says. âI know you want to.â
I canât help but smile as I step into the room, my fingertips grazing over everything Archer bought me. He just watches me quietly as I slowly but surely immerse myself in the one thing that soothes my soul.
I sigh happily as I drag a brand-new brush over the perfectly white canvas, marring it with my imagination. Itâs one of the things I love most about paintingâit doesnât all make sense until everything is in place; then, all of a sudden, my organized chaos comes alive.
Archer pushes off the wall at some point, and my brushstrokes slow as he positions himself behind me. âCan I touch you?â he asks.
My heart begins to race, and I nod hesitantly. Archer wraps his hand around my waist and steps closer, until my back is pressed against his chest. I bite down on my lip when I feel how hard he is, my own body responding in kind. âKeep painting,â he whispers, leaning in so his lips brush over my ear. âDonât mind me.â
He kisses my neck, and a soft sound escapes the back of my throat, desire rushing through me. His left hand slides around me, until heâs got his fingers splayed over my stomach, his touch warm even through my dress. âYou look beautiful,â he whispers, leaning in to kiss my shoulder. âThis pretty black dressâ¦did you wear that for me?â
âYes,â I admit. âWhatâs underneath is also just for you.â
That needy, guttural sound he makes has me squeezing my thighs together, my breath coming out in soft pants.
âIâm not sure why I thought I could be patient with you,â he tells me as he cups the side of my neck and tips my face up. âYouâre all Iâve dreamt of every single night since I found that list, Serenity. Do you have any idea what Iâve done to you in my dreams? What Iâll do to you tonight?â
I rise to my tiptoes, my lips only an inch from his. âI want you to show me, Archer. Let me be your living fantasy.â
He pushes a hand into my hair and grips tightly. âYou already are,â he whispers, and then he kisses me, his touch slow at first, hesitant, until I respond. He groans, parting my lips to deepen our kiss, and for the first time in weeks, my mind quietens.