15 | artist's muse

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CHAPTER 15

"Can I get an iced coffee with two pumps of sugar-free caramel syrup and steamed non-fat milk over a float of vanilla sweet cream at exactly 90 degrees? If it's even a single degree hotter or colder, I'll be able to tell."

The woman standing in front of me had spoken without so much as pausing for a breath, drumming her fingers on the counter expectantly.

I blinked.

I wish I could say that this was a first, but in truth she was just playing to the cliché of 'pretentious snob,' and we had multiple versions of her come in every week.

In fact, after I'd served her and my eyes panned around the cafe, I wondered if the rest of the customers knew just how stereotypical they were.

The student at the centre table, cowering so far behind a tower of thick textbooks that she was barely visible.

The couple in the booth, thinking they were discreet in their attempts to feel each other up.

They weren't.

Even the guy sitting at the table in the corner, too far away for me to make out any of his features but close enough for me to notice him waving in my direction.

Wait. That didn't usually happen.

My suspicions were confirmed as I walked up to the table and the guy moved his hood away from his face, revealing the dimples that should come with a warning sign next to them.

Something along the lines of 'Caution: May render you completely speechless and cause to act like an idiot.'

As if they felt the need to prove this point, my feet stayed rooted to the spot, matching my slacked jaw and racing pulse.

"What are you doing here?" I managed to get out.

Somehow, Gabriel's grin was able to light up the room in spite of the sun pouring through the windows. "I wanted to see you," He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"Okay..." I trailed off, furrowing my brows.

I didn't understand why he was so determined to win me over in particular. I'm sure there was a line of girls that would give anything to be in my position - he would be better off with one of them.

Right?

As much as I wanted to believe that, there was still a part of me that didn't want to let him go.

The same part that had me saying: "I get off in about 10 minutes. I'll come talk to you then."

His forearms flexed as he moved to place his hands behind his head. "I'll be waiting."

I whirled around the room serving the last few customers and wiping down dirty tables.

The urge to laugh when the same student from earlier fell asleep mid order was ridiculously difficult to resist, but I stopped myself with the memory of how school was for me.

Then I felt bad for even considering it.

Untying the faded brown apron from my waist, I turned around to place it on a shelf behind me.

I was tempted to continue facing away from Gabe since his dimples wouldn't be able to get to me from there, but decided to suck it up instead.

I strolled up to his table, willing my legs to stay solid and not become jelly. "I'm done."

"I know." He said, eyes twinkling. "I was watching you the whole time."

His gaze dropped down for a second and a mischievous smile took over his face. "Great view."

Ignoring the fact that he had just admitted to staring at my ass, I focused on the first part of his speech. "Why were you watching me?" I asked, genuine confusion clouding my voice.

He cleared his throat, face becoming uncharacteristically serious. "Since the day I met you I haven't been able to do anything else."

My knees felt weak and I wondered if my legs were going back on their promise not to turn into jelly.

Changing the subject and sliding his signature smirk into place, he asked: "How's my painting coming along?"

I looked up guiltily. "I haven't started it yet. I've been busy and drained of ideas."

The expression on his face morphed from disappointed to playful. "I know what you need."

"What?" I asked, brows pulling together.

"A muse." He answered.

Laughter bubbled through me and spilled out uncontrollably until I realised from his face that he wasn't joking.

"There's no way you're being serious." I gaped, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.

"Why not? I've been told I'm quite good looking." He said with an arrogant smirk that shouldn't have been as attractive as it was.

"You're so cocky." I said, shaking my head slightly.

"I'll take that as a yes." He smiled, eyes gleaming.

"I didn't say tha-" My sentence was cut off by Gabriel's hand in mine as he pulled me out of the cafe and into his car.

- - - -

"Just take a right here." I told Gabriel, forcing my eyes from the way his muscles tightened each time he changed gears.

I had spent the entire ride nervously switching radio stations to cope with the silence in the car.

The worst part is that it wasn't awkward, just intense. Loaded with unspoken words and heated looks.

Buildings vanished in a haze of grey and black as he drove down the street of my apartment and pulled his car up to the curb.

Hitting the brakes, he turned slightly in his chair to face me. "You ready?" He asked.

"Yeah." I said after mulling it over in my head for a second.

If ready meant completely out of my comfort zone and not sure how to deal with his persistence then sure, I was ready.

Fumbling for my keys, I opened the door to find Ivy standing behind it.

I could tell what she thought was happening from the wicked smile that was stretching across her face.

Rolling my eyes at the obviousness of her thoughts, I stepped past her and dragged Gabriel to the door of my bedroom.

"I need to grab some things before we start." I explained. "Do you want to come in and wait for me?"

His eyes widened. "Uh... no. I think I should stay here."

I frowned. "I don't mind other people being in my room if that's what you're worried about."

His throat moved with a gulp as he shook his head. "That's not the problem."

"Suit yourself." I said with a shrug, not understanding why he was acting so strange all of a sudden.

Opening the door and stepping inside, I dragged a canvas from my bedroom into my makeshift art studio.

I could never predict when inspiration would strike so art supplies were always spread around my apartment, and my bedroom was no exception.

Once I had successfully gathered everything I needed with Gabe's help, we made our way into the studio.

"So how do you want me to pose?" He asked, eyes twinkling playfully.

I turned to face him. "How do you even know I'm going to paint you?"

"You will." He said with a knowing smile, as if he was already 10 steps ahead of me.

I sighed. I couldn't disagree because he wasn't even wrong. "Fine. How about..." I trailed off, scanning the room.

It was all white, save for the occasional splatter of paint. I never removed them because I felt that a little mess gave the studio character.

Breeze had found its way in through an open window, causing the curtains to flutter in a way that I was itching to recreate with a paintbrush in my hand.

"With those curtains." I decided, pointing to them.

He strolled over to the window I was referring to, playing with the sheer material of the curtains experimentally.

My breath caught as I watched him.

His back was to me and he had wrapped himself within them in a way that meant I could see nothing but the outline of his body and his curly mop of hair.

I cursed his good looks. It would be so much easier to resist him if he didn't have the body and face of a Greek god.

I picked up my brush, the strokes that I made representing how I felt in that moment.

Reckless.

Frustrated.

A little flustered.

At that last thought Gabriel's head turned to face me. I noted the mischievous smile he was wearing.

"Come here." He stated.

Not a good idea.

"I'm not done." I lied, adding dashes of red to the painting.

I had been using solely different shades of blue, ranging all the way from a deep navy to the exact piercing colour of his eyes, layering them up until they formed his silhouette.

If I didn't want to ruin it I should probably stop now, but I had to keep up the act or I would have no excuse for not going over to him.

My efforts were wasted since his eyes narrowed, telling me that he had already called my bluff.

Walking away from the curtains to stand behind me and look at the canvas, I felt his breath tickling my ear. "I thought you said it wasn't done?"

"Uh..." My brain searched for something to say, but came up empty handed.

He thumbed the corner of the painting. "It's perfect. You've got some serious talent, candyfloss."

"Thanks." I breathed, spinning around and unable to focus on anything but the intensity of the way he was looking at me.

He stepped closer, allowing the scent of leather and vanilla to invade my senses.

I could feel every hard line of his body as he pressed against me, eyes dropping down to my lips.

"Gabe..." I began, trailing off as I lost my train of thought.

I think I had been about to resist, but I had lost all conviction the second I felt his thumb touch my cheek.

He leaned in slowly and I found myself doing the same in spite of myself.

This couldn't end well.

I'm so sorry for leaving it there

please don't hate me LMAO