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My heart leaps at his assertion.
Sensual heat dances across my skin in tiny, deliberate brushstrokes as if I’m painting on myself.
Brandon rises and walks around the bed, picking up the sketch of the sunset from my nightstand. “I’m taking this.”
“Uh…” I straighten. He appears so moved by my drawing. Plus, he purchased the easel and all those supplies for me. I cave and tell him, “Fine. You can have it.”
“Thanks.”
As he moseys to the window, displeasure saturates me because he’s leaving now.
Tell him to stay, a lusty voice nudges me. “Um…”
“Yes?” he presses, angling his head.
You better not, Doreen warns.
“Nothing. See you.”
I watch Brandon open the window. He freezes and glances at me once more before climbing out.
Not even five minutes go by when I receive a text from him.
You’re very pretty.
Night, my little artist.
His compliment flows over my body and soothes me like a hot and bubbly bath in wintertime.
I’m even more flattered as I glance at the art stuff again. It was genuinely sweet of him.
But my smile wavers at a sudden realization.
“Shit. What am I going to tell my parents?”
Elation bombards me the instant my eyes open at the sound of my alarm. I don’t bother to hit snooze. Tossing the sheet aside, I hop out of bed and take the box containing my new easel from the bag.
It’s dawn. I have an hour and a few minutes to assemble it before readying for school. I’m eager to start the process.
Gathering the screws and wooden parts, I arrange them on the carpet to make it easier to grab.
I’m setting up the legs when I hear my parents’ room door. I still don’t know how I’m going to explain this without them telling me to give it back.
My pulse quickens at gentle knocking on my door.
“Kayla, are you up already?” Momma calls out.
“Yeah.” I straighten from the carpet and open the door midway.
She’s already dressed in green scrubs; curls pulled into a neat bun. Her reddish-brown eyes appear exhausted.
“Well, I’m heading to the hospital. Have a good day, honey.”
“Thanks, Momma. You, too.” I open the door wider for us to hug.
She squeezes me in her slender and loving arms.
As she slowly eases back, I notice she’s squinting at something inside my room.
