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Since the last time we hooked up, we were with other people.
I had been proposed to!
But I would never have someone else in Riff’s condo while he was gone.
Not in the bedroom. Not on the couch. Not in the kitchen.
Not even a hand job in a closet.
“Fiona?” Demi’s voice echoed from the back.
I took a deep breath, turned on my heels, and walked away from the front door.
To me, that put distance between myself and Riff.
Which was good.
We had honestly been on top of each other -literally- for a while now.
A little breather?
Perfect.
“What do you need to show me?” I asked Demi as I walked into the back of the gallery.
She leaned against a table with a piece of paper turned over.
“I worked on something,” she said.
“You did?” I asked. “That’s great!”
“Wow. Don’t sound so jumpy and excited.”
“Well…”
“I don’t like that, Fiona. Makes me feel like a victim.”
“Sorry. I just… you’re an amazing artist, Demi. I hope you know that.”
“I’m aware,” she said. “And this… this is called instant inspiration.”
As she began to lift the piece of paper, her hands shook furiously.
So much so she paused for a moment and shut her eyes.
My instinct was to jump in and help, but I knew better by now.
Demi did not want nor need the help.
My job was to stand there.
And wait.
And I did just that.
She finally regained herself a little bit and she lifted the piece of paper again and turned it over.
“There,” she said.
