Page 203 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

But a knock on the door grabs my attention. I quickly sent Rurik a Gotta Go text and jumped up from the couch to let my friends in.

“Pizza?” I ask Nat and Oscar as they both settle on the couch.

“God, yes.” Nat groans, rubbing her stomach. “Give me all the cheese!”

And just like that, my day is better because of these two.

A couple of hours later, I hear Nat singing, “Soooo…?”

I look up from my phone — No, I was not stalking Rurik’s IG. I wasn’t. A picture he uploaded of him and his cousins popped up, and I clicked on his profile. That’s it.

“What?” I ask Nat.

“How are things with you and your sexy artist?”

My face burns as I put my phone away. “We’re fine.”

Oscar hides his smirk by drinking his beer.

“I’m thirsty,” Nat groans. “Serve me some tea.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously! We’re good. He basically lives here, we hang out, we talk, laugh, fuck a lot—” Nat grins widely while Oscar looks like he’s about to barf. “What else is there to say?” I finish.

“But you guys aren’t together?”

“No. I mean, we’re friends.”

“Friends who fuck.”

“Fuck buddies.” Oscar chirps.

“Yup,” I say with a pop at the end.

Fuck buddies. I think I hate those words. It sounds so unfeeling and not at all what me and Rurik share. Sure, we don’t have the type of relationship where we can proudly announce to everyone, but… it’s something.

Who fucking needs labels, anyway?

“You’re cool with that?” Nat asks as if she read my mind. “Being in a secret relationship with Philip’s stepson, I mean.”

“It’s not ideal, but I love Rurik because of him and not because of Philip.” I immediately freeze at the same time, Nat gasps. Even Oscar lowered his drink to stare at me intently.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Nat puts her glass down and waves her hand. “Back up. Repeat what you just said.”

“It’s not ideal.”

“After that.”

“I’m with Rurik and not Philip.”

“Bitch, repeat exactly what you said.”

“I…” Oh my god. “Love him.” Shit. Am I really about to repeat what I just said? I swallow hard and inhale deeply. “Yeah. I love Rurik.”

Why am I surprised, though? I mean, I care about him deeply. I wasn’t lying when I confessed how much I cared about him and what he meant to me.

But love?

I don’t like throwing that word around. My parents have never said that to each other, nor have they ever said that to me.

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