Glitch (Next Level Book 1)

I’m elated Glitch is willing to go to my studio. Who cares if it’s before the ass crack of dawn? That power nap I took gave me a second wind, and I’m ready for another round of anything with this man.

I have plenty of canvases, sketchbooks, and supplies at my apartment, but I want to show him what I do. How I do it. I want to give him a peek at the me that’s not on my best behavior. The raw parts. The insecure parts. The real deal.

I rent space on the top floor of an old warehouse because it has the best light. When we pull up, the building is completely deserted and the streetlamp flickers by the front door. Glitch looks up and frowns. “You work here?”

“Yup.” I know it doesn’t look great from the outside, but it’s the inside that counts.

“There’s no security,” he says as we head towards the door. “There’s nothing and no one keeping you safe.”

“It’s fine.” I unlock the door and give it a good shove to open it. “Really. No one comes in here who doesn’t belong. And the place is usually packed with people.”

“How many?”

“Five of us rent space here.”

Glitch looks at me like five isn’t a huge number and certainly wouldn’t be his definition of “packed.” I don’t blame him. We’ve never had a safety issue here before, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen.

“The guy on the first floor is a sculptor. He has two dogs he takes with him everywhere he goes. They usually run the hallway on the main floor, and no one can even walk by the building without them barking their asses off.” Which has led to arguments because the dogs are great for guarding but shit for concentration.

I head towards the steps, and Glitch follows. “The elevator’s broke. These steps are my only form of exercise most days.” We climb the stairwell and Glitch looks more and more concerned by the time we reach my floor. I want to be annoyed, but I’m not. He’s only thinking about my safety, and I love that. It’s nice to be worried about.

I unlock the door to my studio and the smell of acrylics and wood smacks us in the face. I flick on the lights and smile big. “Welcome to where the magic happens.” Okay, that sounded cooler in my head.

Glitch blinks up at the light fixtures first.

“They’re full-spectrum fluorescents,” I say because now my geek is showing. Even with a full wall of windows, I wanted fixed light because the colors can shift from warm to cool depending on the time of day and what lights you use. Besides, I’m here most nights well after sundown. Glitch slowly takes in everything from floor to ceiling, walking leisurely around the room while I watch him. I notice he keeps his hands clasped behind his back, as if he’s afraid to touch anything in here.

He stops at a stack of canvases I have in the corner. Looking back at me, he points to the stack. “May I?”

“Absolutely.” I love that he asked permission before rummaging through my things. I’ve never let anyone come here before. This is my private space. More private than my apartment in terms of where my soul lives. I’m not sure if I’d have liked it if Glitch just helped himself. But now that he’s asked, I add, “You can look at anything. Everything.” I want to be an open door for him. I want Glitch to want to look inside and see who I am.

Bringing him here is the best way to share myself.

“This is incredible, Ara.” His voice is deeper than normal. And softer.

“That’s my ‘not quite good enough’ pile.”

He cocks his brow at me. Every time he’s made that expression, it’s earned me a spanking. Does me saying my art isn’t good enough mean I get in trouble?

“Why do you think these aren’t good enough?”

“Lots of reasons.” I saunter over. “They just don’t hit right yet. Sometimes I can figure out what’s missing and make it better, but a lot of times, I stare at them and imagine setting them on fire. It’s a love-hate thing.”

Glitch carefully flips through the various sized canvases. He stops at the second to last one. His breath catches. “Fuck, Ara.” He plucks it out and brings it up to the front of the pile and steps back to appreciate it better.

I instantly swell with pride. It doesn’t matter that I hate this particular painting. It doesn’t matter that I found a million flaws in my body with my self-portrait. In this pose, I’m naked, sitting on the floor with one hand stretched up, fingers curled, eyes darting to the side. I sat this way because it made me feel impish and goddess-like, which I loved. But my inner feelings didn’t translate as well as I’d intended.

Glitch swallows as he takes it all in. Heat rolls off him and slams into me. “I want this.”

Umm. “It’s not finished.”

“I can’t imagine what you think needs improvement. It’s fucking stunning, Ara.”

Nice of him to say, but I disagree. “It’s got a lot wrong with it.”

“No.” He pivots to face me, his gaze hot as fire. “It’s breathtaking. You’re… fuck, you’re perfect.”

I was also skinnier in this picture and now I’m starting to squirm. Did he notice the weight difference between this painting and what I looked like on my bed earlier?

“Who took this photo?”

His question throws me off. “I set up my tripod and snap pictures or take video, then I freeze the frame and work off it.” It’s something I’m still getting used to. “I keep trying to find ways to love my body.” Clearly, I failed.

“What’s not to love?”

I don’t even answer that. “I’m better with the images in my head.” I lure him over to another stack of canvases. “See?”

He cards through them gently. “Wow.”

My smile hurts, it’s so big. I swear the two of us have smiled more at each other tonight than I have, collectively, over the past five years.

“I bow down to your talent, Ara. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh it is, I assure you.”

“Then who painted your shop?” Because now I know it wasn’t him.

“A senior from the high school did it about two years ago. It was for his portfolio.”

“And you let him use your shop?”

Glitch shrugs. “He needed it, I had it, and I admire what he did. I’ll never paint over it.”

I didn’t think I could possibly love him more, but there he goes proving me wrong. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”

He turns his dark green eyes on me. “So are you.”

Glitch makes me feel like I could fly. How the hell is it possible to feel this confident and solid with someone I barely know? “Can I…” Oh boy, here goes nothing. “Can I paint you?”

The look on his face is priceless. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

“Yay!” I start tugging on the hem of his shirt. “Take this off.”

“You want to paint me now?”

“When inspiration strikes,” I chirp, sashaying my hips, walking backwards to grab a blank canvas. “You gotta be ready to ride it.”

He laughs and pulls his shirt off. “I’m not sure if you’re talking about your muse or me.”

“Both.” I wink and snatch my graphite set.

Glitch rubs the back of his neck, looking around. “Where should I stand?”

“Get naked first.”

His eyes widen. “So we’re going nude.” Then he barks a laugh. “Okay. I’m game.”

I can tell he’s nervous, but he’s being an amazing sport about this. “Lean against the wall. One hand up behind your head, the other relaxed by your side.”

He kicks off his shoes and unbuckles his belt. In total silence, Glitch gives me everything I’m asking of him. I sit on the floor while he gets in the pose I want, and he looks awkward and adorable. Then he pretends to toss his hair back and says, “Draw me like one of your French girls.”

I rock back on the floor, laughing so hard. I’ve never felt this excited and peaceful at the same time before. Within a half-hour, I’ve roughly sketched the masterpiece that is Glitch. “You want to see it?”

“You’re done already?”

“For now.” With the great conversations we’ve been having, time flew by. Plus, I’m a fast sketcher when I have a great model.

“Tada!” I spin it around and Glitch’s eyes widen. “You like?” It’s rough but won’t stay that way. I have a plan for this masterpiece.

“You only drew my face.”

“I know.” My wicked ways are devious and genius.

“I thought you were drawing my whole body.” He laughs, gesturing at his nakedness.

“Oh.” I jab a finger towards the larger canvases. “You want me to get one of the three-by-six canvases out and draw you an actual true-to-size dick pic?”

Glitch’s burst of laughter rocks the entire room. His head is thrown back, his abs contracting, and his hard-on bounces as he keeps laughing. “God, I fucking love you.”

My breath catches. I know it’s just a saying, but it didn’t feel innocent. It felt true. And I find myself crawling across the floor of my studio to get to him. I stop by his feet and stare up at the most perfect man I’ve ever met, and I can’t believe this night has been so damn magical. And then it gets even better.

Glitch cups the side of my cheek and says, “Heyyy, Kitty.”

I want to suck him off so bad, I almost beg for it.