Page 34 of Siren's Heart

Pinching my tongue between my lips. I get to work. First, she made it into a kind of hill in the middle of the wheel. Then she pushed it to become long and thin if I remember correctly. So I try to do that.

When Luca starts chuckling beside me, I look up. "What?"

"Nothing." He bites his lip in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his grin, then eyes my clay.

"Oh, come on," I start giggling when I realize how phallic it looks. "Penis jokes? On the first date?"

"Hey, you said it. I just laughed," he points out and raises his clay-clad hands in a defensive gesture. I flick a bit of dirty water on my fingers in his direction, making him break into gentle laughter.

"Well, the joke's on you; maybe I'm making... a penis-mug," I say with narrow eyes, but I can't stop the corners of my mouth from betraying me.

"If you want something penis-shaped today, I'm sure we can come up with something."

I tilt my head and lazily look him up and down, eyebrow raised daringly. Looks like he does have a dirtier side. It's a very nice change from the gentlemanly side he's shown me so far. And, I mean, he's hot. It'd be a lie to say that I haven’t thought about sex with him. The way his face would look, flushed between my legs, my hands buried in his hair.

I’ve thought about it quite a bit if I’m being honest.

"How about we finish our mugs and revisit that conversation then?" I wink at him, meeting dark eyes full of heat. He shifts in his seat, and I chuckle when I see why he feels uncomfortable sitting down. He can’t even reach down to adjust himself, or the clay remnants he’d leave on his pants would announce it to anyone.

I purse my lips to contain a grin, and force my attention back to my wheel.

Just like Mary showed us, I push the penis-shaped clay down with my palm and open it up in the middle. The first time I try, the shape just flops to the side, turning flabby. Ignoring Luca's chuckle, I try again and finally, it works out. Then it falls into itself when I try to pull it further up, probably because the walls become too thin.

But I'm determined. The third time's the charm and all that. Surprise! The saying proves true. Finally, I have something resembling a mug spinning in the center of my wheel.

"Yay!" I clap into my hands for a quick celebration, giggling when I realize I’ve just doused myself in droplets of muddy water.

"That looks great!" Luca says, peering over at what I'm doing. As for him, he already has a full structure standing in front of him. Handle and everything.

"How are you so quick?"

"Natural talent," he says with a wink, and I narrow my eyes at him with a pout on my lips. "And it’s not the first time I’ve worked with clay, to be completely honest. Want me to help you out?"

"No way," I laugh and shield my wonky mug with my arms. "You stay in your spot, mister! I might be slow, but I'm... uh, very meticulous? Hope you've got time. Because those ornamental mugs right by the entrance looked cute as hell, and I really want to make one."

"I've got all the time in the world for you, Sunshine."

Sunshine? I tilt my head, rolling the nickname over in my head. That's a new one. I've been 'Sweetheart,’ 'Babe,’ and 'Honey' by boyfriends, but Sunshine... I like it. It makes my heart skip a beat, and my stomach feels all fizzy.

"So, how are you enjoying the preparations for the match?" I ask him, trying to make conversation as I attempt to make my mug less wonky. He hands me one of the tools Mary left for us, and I use it to shape the outside. Yes, that works a lot better!

"It's exhausting, I'm not gonna lie," he says, now intently focused on his wheel again. It makes a cute crease appear between his eyebrows and a muscle in his jaw tick. "But it's just as fun."

"You've known Asher for a while now, right?"

"We met nine years ago." Nostalgia drips from his voice, and his answer is accompanied by a heavy sigh. "I love him like a brother, but he’s the most annoying person I know. It's like ribbing people is his calling. Just today, he decided to make his jersey number fifty-five, only because he knows his dad will watch the game, and he loves reminding him of how old he is. It’s going to drive him up the wall. I can almost guarantee that."

"Seriously?" I chuckle and lay the tool down again, deeming the mug shape acceptable now. "That’s so vile. Which number did you pick?"

"Thirteen. I figured right now I'm lucky enough." I look up, and blood shoots into my cheeks when I see his intense gaze on me.

"You're such a sweet-talker," I point out with an embarrassed smile and admit more quietly, "I like it."

"If you like that, you should hear me in bed." And gone is the cute moment. I pull a piece of clay off the chunk Mary left for us and chuck it his way. When it hits him on the shoulder, he picks it off and laughs.

"Don't make me horny when I'm trying to be cute and artsy," I whine and shake my head disapprovingly, squirming in my seat. Now I want to hear him in bed. I bet he's not as sweet when it gets hot and heavy between the sheets. I can't wait to find out.

"So, how are your rehearsals going?" He steers the conversation towards a safe topic again.

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