: Chapter 16
“I hate having to leave you by yourself so often,” Ezra says, his suitcase by his side. “I tried to stay most of the weekend, but I really need to go or I won’t get there in time for my meeting tomorrow. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
I smile shakily. He’d be so disappointed if he knew what I’m about to do. “I’ll be fine,” I murmur. “Besides, Archer is next door. If I need anything, I’ll just go bother him. I doubt he’ll mind.”
Ezra nods. “I’ll see you in three days, then. I’m sorry I haven’t been here more, Serenity. I’d hoped to help you settle in and show you some of my favorite places in town, but work has just been so busy.”
I brush my hand over his arm and shake my head. “I’m not a child anymore, you know. You don’t have to worry about me so much.”
He sighs and gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I know, but to me you’re still the baby I vowed to protect when I was ten. I don’t think that’ll ever change.”
My heart wrenches, and I rise to my tiptoes to kiss my brother’s cheek. Our age difference has always made him overprotective, and he’s right, it probably won’t ever change. “Have a safe flight. Text me when you land, okay?”
Ezra nods and walks out, seemingly reluctantly. I’ve never felt so conflicted. If he ever found out what I’m about to let his best friend do to me, he’d never forgive either of us.
I’m still second-guessing myself when I ring Archer’s 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.
“There’s something I’d like to show you,” he says, tipping his head toward the hallway. “Follow me.”
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 he’d make me feel safe and comfortable, but now that I’m standing here with him, I’m not sure I have the confidence to see it through. Someone like him…God, I could never live up to his expectations or even his past experiences.
“Here we are,” he murmurs, pushing the door open.
“Wow,” I whisper, my eyes widening when I take in the thousands of dollars’ worth of art supplies—canvases, easels, incredibly expensive acrylics and brushes. “What is all this?”
I whirl around to face him, only to find him smiling at me sweetly. This. This is exactly why I chose him—because he’d never hurt me, would never even dream of it.
He takes a step closer to me, and my heart skips a beat. “I told you to paint me something, so it’s only fair I provide you with what you’ll need for it.”
“Archer,” I whisper, my eyes falling closed when he cups my face. “This would’ve easily cost you twenty grand. It’s…it’s too much.”
“No,” he tells me, stepping closer until I’m pressed against the doorway, his body brushing against mine. “It isn’t enough, but it’s a start. You’ve missed it, haven’t you? Painting has always been an outlet for you, and I want you to have this, here, with me.”
I stare at him wide-eyed, emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “H-How did you…”
I’ve missed painting on canvas more than he could possibly understand, but I promised myself I’d try to put it behind me. Every time I hold a brush, I’m filled with grand dreams and equally grand fears all over again, and I can’t keep doing that to myself, and I can’t take the disdain in my mother’s eyes every time I mention my art.
“I haven’t 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 you’ll need to paint to ease your broken heart, so paint for me, darling.”
My gaze roams over his face, pausing on his lips for a moment. “Thank you. For all of this, for…” My voice breaks, and he sighs as he brushes the back of his hand over my cheek.
“Go check out your new supplies,” he tells me. “I know you’re dying to.”
I hesitate, my heart pounding wildly. “I thought we’d…”
Archer smirks, his gaze darkening. “Impatient, hmm?” he whispers, sliding a hand around my waist. I startle a little, and he chuckles. “Let’s take it slow, Serenity. I want you dripping for me by the time I lay you down in my bed.”
My breath hitches, and he grins as he steps back, tipping his head toward the easel set up for me. “Go on,” he says. “I know you want to.”
I can’t 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. It’s one of the things I love most about painting—it doesn’t 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. “Can I touch you?” 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. “Keep painting,” he whispers, leaning in so his lips brush over my ear. “Don’t mind me.”
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 he’s got his fingers splayed over my stomach, his touch warm even through my dress. “You look beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss my shoulder. “This pretty black dress…did you wear that for me?”
“Yes,” I admit. “What’s underneath is also just for you.”
That needy, guttural sound he makes has me squeezing my thighs together, my breath coming out in soft pants.
“I’m not sure why I thought I could be patient with you,” he tells me as he cups the side of my neck and tips my face up. “You’re all I’ve dreamt of every single night since I found that list, Serenity. Do you have any idea what I’ve done to you in my dreams? What I’ll do to you tonight?”
I rise to my tiptoes, my lips only an inch from his. “I want you to show me, Archer. Let me be your living fantasy.”
He pushes a hand into my hair and grips tightly. “You already are,” 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.