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an with an open mouth. “Did you seriously throw Fruity Pebbles at me?”
He snickered, batting his eyes innocently. “Me? No way.”
Shaking my hair around me, even more pieces of multi-colored cereal fell from it. “Did you throw the whole box at me?” I asked, noting the significant pile of cereal now on the floor, as well as the bits stuck in the paint.
“Of course not. A man’s got to eat.” He promptly shoved another handful of cereal into his mouth.
I narrowed my eyes and chose to ignore him as I turned back to the canvas. I was almost done and I wasn’t going to let his childish games distract me.
He sat down beside me once more and held out the bowl for me. I set the paintbrush aside so I could take it from him.
We sat side-by-side, eating cereal as he appraised the now paint splattered canvas. We were an odd pair, that was for sure, but we were far more similar than someone on the outside would ever realize.
“How bad is it?” I asked, when he had been too silent for far too long.
“It’s interesting.”
“That’s code for, ‘It’s horrible.’” I mumbled around a mouthful.
He chuckled. “No, it’s not horrible. It’s…” He tilted his head, searching for the right word, “Abstract.”
“I guess that’s better than horrible,” I shrugged.
“I wasn’t expecting you to paint a masterpiece.”
“So, you knew I’d suck?”
“That’s not what I meant,” he rolled his eyes, standing to deposit his now empty bowl in the sink.
When I finished my cereal, he took that bowl as well.
I looked over my shoulder at him, and the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Where were you?”
He looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“When I saw you coming home, where had you been?”
He shook his head and one of the bowls crashed in the sink. Looking down, he braced his hands on the counter, shoulders taut.
“Sutton,” he growled my name, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “I thought we didn’t talk about personal things.”
“I was curious,” I squeaked.
His knuckles turned white where he grasped the counter. “Fine,” he finally spat. “I’ll tell you where I go—” I brightened but the feeling was short lived, “but you have to tell me something personal about yourself first.”
Fuck. I should’ve known better. Of course he’d want something from me.
Was my curiosity so great that I could give up a part of myself to know something about him?
Yes. Yes it was.
“Fine,” I relented.
“You. First.” He growled. I was trapped. I had to tell him something now.
I swallowed thickly, my pulse jumping. I’d learned a long time ago not to let people in. Once people knew the real me, they didn’t like what they saw. I decided to settle on something safe. “I moved here because I caught my boyfriend sleeping with my best friend.”
“You’re lying.”
