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“I know,” he shoots back. “But I can’t help myself when I’m around you.” His tone is husky. “We won’t. I’m trying to see how the fabric is going to look. Stand up.”
I jump up from his lap and turn to face him. He eyes my breasts.
“Your nipples peek through the bra. We have to work on the color scheme, add some brown, and make the straps in the back cross,” he says, licking my arousal off his fingers.
He glances at my hardened nipples, and he licks his lips. Abruptly, he stands up from the chair, heading toward the door.
The thought of him leaving burns my chest.
“We’re done?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m not sure if your piece will be chosen, because I have to look at everyone else’s.”
Nodding, I snatch my robe from the floor and wiggle it on my shoulders, flipping out my hair.
“Please don’t go,” I say.
“I’m not. I’m going to shower, and then I’m spending the night.”
“Is that why you brought your bag?”
He nods. “It’s going to rain tonight, and you don’t need to be by yourself, having an anxiety attack,” he says before leaving me to my thoughts.
I tuck my legs under my butt as we perch on the leather couch. “Are you sure you want to spend the night? The rain has stopped.”
“Believe it or not, I enjoy your company as much as I enjoy my company.” He places his foot on my coffee table.
I giggle. “Sometimes I believe the hair gel is burning your common sense.”
He slaps me on the head with a decorative colorful pillow. “Shut up.”
We’re silent for a while, and the city is quiet and calm like the ocean on a sunny day.
He wraps his blanket around himself and doesn’t utter a word. Normally, he’s chatty and in a cheery mood.
I nudge my shoulder against his arm. “What’s going on with you?”
He rubs his chin. “When I was a kid, my mother used to read me the encyclopedia. This reminds me of those nights.”
“What is your mother like?”
“My mother is a brilliant woman. She was the one who helped my father become a billionaire, but he allowed his greed to corrupt him. When she tried to do her own business, he hindered her because he believes women shouldn’t outwork men.”
“You’re a good man,” I say.
“I try to be. Being an only child, there was a lot of pressure on me. Sometimes, I want another sibling so I can have the spotlight off me.”
“I understand. I always wanted a sister to grow up and share things with.”
He stares at me, and my cheeks flame. I’m not wearing any makeup, and my bangs are pulled from my face, so my scar is on full display for him to see. He makes me feel like I don’t have to hide from him like I have to hide from the world.
“What?” I ask.
“I admire your beauty.”
It takes every ounce in me to disagree, but I don’t want to argue. I wish I saw myself the way he sees me. My legs feel weak as my pulse accelerates at his words. We stare at each other for a beat, and I clear my throat.
Slowly, he wraps his arms around my shoulders, and butterflies flutter in my chest.
