“Fuck that,” I tell her automatically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound rude. I just meant that I’m not an addict. I don’t need help kicking the habit. I really don’t. But thank you for the offer.”
Pause.
Longer pause.
“Okay,” Mila finally answers. “I can respect that. But let me know if I can do anything to help. I can listen if you want to talk, or try to keep you occupied, or whatever you need. In the meantime, would you like to have another date tonight? I have something in mind.”
“Oh, really?” I ask, raising my eyebrow even though she can’t see it. “And what are you thinking?”
“Well, it involves my shop and paint. Since we’re getting to know each other, I thought maybe you’d like to see what I like to do.”
I’m intrigued now, so I tell her that and then agree to meet her at her shop at 7:00. I’m supposed to bring take-out.
I smile as I head to the shower. If this is what being in a relationship is like, I think I can handle it.
********
Mila
They say not to wish your life away, but that’s exactly what I do all afternoon long as I wait for 7:00 p.m. to roll around.
After I close the shop at 6:00, I rush up to my apartment and shower, dressing in a pair of jeans that fit me just right and a soft red sweater, a gift from him. This particular sweater has a plunging neckline and I don’t wear a camisole underneath. I can see the swell of my br**sts as I examine myself in the mirror and a flush spreads along my cheeks.
“God, you’re ridiculous,” I tell myself as I dab on perfume. “You’re an adult, he’s an adult. You can dress sexy if you want to. It doesn’t make you a slut.”
And now I’m talking to myself.
Great.
At 7:00, I make my way back down the stairs, pretending to be calm while I wait for Pax in my shop. He’s right on time, thank God. I watch him walk up the sidewalk and quite honestly, he takes my breath away.
Tonight, he’s freshly showered again and wearing jeans and a black shirt that clings to his chest beneath his coat. His slender waist makes me ache to wrap my arms around it, so I drag my gaze up to his face. He winks at me.
My heart flutters as I unlock the door and let him in.
“Hi,” I say softly. He brings with him the cool winter air and his clean scent. I take a deep breath, then stretch up to kiss him on the cheek.
“Hi,” he answers. “Is that all you’ve got for me?” He grins.
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “For now. Be patient.”
“Oh, I’m very patient,” he tells me. “Trust me.”
He stops in the middle of my shop and looks around. He’s so big, but he manages to not look out of place in the midst of all the delicate furniture, easels and paint.
“So, what’s the plan? What are we doing?”
“Well, first, I’m going to take your coat. And then you have two choices. I can either teach you to paint and you can paint with me, or I’ll paint you. You can be my model. Either way, it should be fun.”
Pax stares at me thoughtfully, appearing to truly think about this.
“Well, I’m not much of an artist,” he finally says. “I don’t even know if you could teach me, to be honest. I’m just not artistically inclined.”
“I think I could teach you,” I tell him smugly. “But if you would feel more comfortable, I’d be happy to paint you and we can chat while I do.”
“I’ve never been painted before,” he announces. “Can I choose the setting and pose and whatnot?”
I’m surprised that he would care. But I nod.
“Of course. This is just for fun. I’ll do it any way that you want it.”
He beams. “Great! I’d like to be nude.”
I’m shocked as I stare at him, but as I see the sparkle in his eyes, I know that I walked right into that.
“That was a trap!” I roll my eyes. “You set me up.”
He shrugs and looks very proud of himself.
“I’m sorry that you’re not more street-wise,” he says, and I can tell that he’s not sorry at all. “But you already agreed to it. So, I guess you’ll be painting me nude.” He narrows his eyes. “Why? Does that bother you? Are you worried that you won’t be able to control yourself as you gaze upon my sexiness?”
He waggles his eyebrows now and I giggle.
“Oh, I’ll try hard to manage,” I tell him. But quite honestly, it might be a feat. I can’t believe I’ve gotten myself into this.
I gulp a big breath of air and glance around, trying to calm my quaking nerves.
“We’d better take this into my studio in the back. I don’t think you want to be na**d in front of the windows. Or maybe you do, you exhibitionist freak.”
I laugh, remembering that he has entire walls of windows at his house which doesn’t deter him from walking around naked. Then I remember watching him get a blowjob through one of those windows and it sobers me up. My cheeks flush and Pax looks at me.
“What’s wrong? Does the fact that I’m a freak bother you?”
He’s still kidding and has no idea that I have a picture of he and Jill firmly implanted into my head. I shake my head, trying to shake the image away.
“Of course not,” I joke back. “I like it.”
I turn my heel on his shocked expression and lead the way to my private studio. As I walk in, I inhale the familiar smell… of oil paint, acrylic and wood floors. I turn to Pax.
“I give private lessons in here and this is where I do my own work.”
He looks around appreciatively. “It’s perfect. I can see you in here, working away.”
He points at a painting hanging on the wall, one of a woman with her head bowed. It’s fairly abstract and you can’t see the details of the woman’s face. No one would know that it’s my sister, and her head is bowed because she’s crying at my parents’ funeral. That particular moment imprinted on my heart and I knew I had to paint it. The painting hangs in here, in my private studio, because it’s too personal to be sold.