Page 10 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

So damn cute.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, a hue of pink coloring those adorable cheeks. “Actually, this is a view of somewhere I used to go to a few years ago.”

Oh, his voice is incredibly smooth and deep, like velvet. I just want to take his voice and turn it into a blanket so I can wrap myself in it, feeling warm and comfortable as I snuggle on the couch.

And wait, is that a hint of a Scottish accent I hear?

Fuck me. I’m a sucker for accents.

Rurik continues, “I called it my little slice of paradise because it’s where I went when I wanted to be alone. Nobody knew about it.”

I reluctantly tore my gaze from him so I could look at the painting.

Immediately, I’m transported to a place of calm and serenity. I feel like I can deeply breathe in the open, tranquil lake while its shimmering surface reflects the blue, cloudless sky above. A dense spread of green trees stood tall and proud on the other side of the lake, framing the scene perfectly. It's a simple view, but Rurik's talent is so amazing that I could get lost just by staring at the canvas.

“Thank you for sharing your little slice of paradise with us through this painting, Rurik,” I say, focusing on him again.

Rurik glances at me briefly before clearing his throat and shrugging, “It’s no big deal. Anyone can visit that place. I haven’t been in years, though.”

The lady beams, “You’re so talented, Rurik! Your girlfriend must be so proud of you.”

I raise a brow, slowly turning my head to stare at the lady's audacity.

Is she trying to figure out if he has a girlfriend or —

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Rurik chuckles, the sound spreading tingles of something throughout me.

Wait, what did he just say?

My head whirled back to him, my eyes wide.

He doesn’t have a girlfriend.

Not yet.

I clear my throat and offer him a glass of champagne. “A gift for you. I figured you could use a little pick-me-up since you’re busy talking to everyone.”

Is he going to be a dick again and reject a glass of bougie bubbly?

Rurik looks like he wants to walk away again, but thankfully, he doesn't. He gives me a brief nod before reaching for the glass, our fingers brushing against each other.

I swear I felt sparks.

Yup, it’s official.

We’re going to be together forever.

Rurik turns red again as he takes a small sip. “Thanks,” he murmurs, his hand gripping the glass so tight that I was afraid it would break.

I grin at him. “Am I making you nervous?”

“What? No. I don’t know you.”

I thrust my hand out again, the same hand I offered earlier. The one he left hanging.

Rurik inhales deeply before finally wrapping his hand around mine.

Jesus, his hand is so smooth. I want to rub my cheek against it. Is that weird?

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