Page 170 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

My lips twitch. “A siren?”

He nods, “Yeah. You use your beauty to trap men.” He makes a face and adds, “Fuck, that explains why I had no chance with you. You used your charm and voice, and now I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Shut up,” I laugh, playfully slapping his chest. “And you just confessed that I'm always on your mind and that you find me charming.”

“It’s because you’re a siren,” Rurik snarks. “Maybe I should change your name on my phone to Siren instead of Baby.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s My Crazy Baby, but I wouldn’t mind My Crazy Siren as long as you keep the My part,” I tell him with a shrug.

He chuckles, the low rumble vibrating against my hands. He pulls my face to kiss me and mumbles, “I think I prefer calling you my baby, anyway.”

Goosebumps prickle across my arms. Goddamn.

There he goes, melting my fucking heart all over again.

“Can you tell me about your family?” I ask him, loving the feeling of his fingers going back to running through my hair.

He stiffens for a second. “What about my family?”

“You mentioned you and your mom are close. What’s she like?”

He relaxes, his face immediately looking bright as he says, “She’s great. My biggest fan. She’s the one who pushed me to pursue my dream of becoming an artist.”

“I love that,” I smile. “And the rest of our family?”

“The rest of my family are still in Scotland.”

“Oh. What about your family in New York?”

“It’s just me and mum.”

My eyes narrow.

Is he intentionally avoiding mentioning his stepdad, or am I just overthinking things? Should I even ask about him?

Fuck it.

“And your stepdad?” I ask, looking interested. “You mentioned he wouldn’t like me or something.”

The change was immediate. He looks super uncomfortable as he fidgets through my hair. He’s petting my hair aggressively, and I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Our eyes clash, and he squirms.

I raise a brow. “Something wrong?”

It’s like he knows that I already know. But that’s not possible. He can’t know the history between me and his stepdad.

Oh, god.

What if he does, and that’s why he’s so scared? Is he scared of how I’ll react?

“My stepdad…” Rurik swallows hard, and for once, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple isn’t appealing to me right now. It’s whatever he’s about to say. “So, mum and I moved to New York from Scotland over a decade ago. She met my stepdad when he visited Scotland, and they hit it off.”

I just nod. “Aw, that sounds romantic.”

He runs a hand through his hair and heavily sighs, staring at me uncertainly. After a few seconds of staring at each other, he says, “You know who my stepdad is, don’t you?”

I raise a brow. “Should I?”

Rurik releases a chuckle. The sound is both disbelief and sarcasm. “I guess everyone would know him.” He drops his hand from his head, touching my hand instead. “He’s a senator.”

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