Page 210 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

“I know,” Rurik sighs, kissing my wrists. I tense when his thumb grazes the scars there. “I apologize for my behavior. I have no right to be pissed off over what you wear. But, for the record, I’d still find you beautiful even if you were wearing a stained, oversized T-shirt, sweatpants with holes, and your hair thrown up in a messy bun.”

I grin.

Awww… He looooves me. I know it!

Okay, if he doesn’t, then I’ll manifest that shit out of it.

“It’s okay to be jealous,” I tease as he stands up and pulls me with him.

“I’m not,” Rurik snaps, leading me to the closet. “Now, pick out whatever you want to wear. But I swear to fuck, Briar, if I catch some asshole eyeing you like a piece of meat, I can’t be held accountable for what happens when my fists decide to pound something.”

I just kiss him. “I get it. I still remember how insanely jealous I felt when I saw those girls at the gym flaunting their gym shorts and sports bras around you. You’ve no idea how many times I threatened those women in the locker room.”

He frowns, “I thought the first time you went to the gym was when you stopped my treadmill?”

“Sure. Let’s say that.” I just grin. “You’re so sexy, angel.”

Rurik’s eyes narrow, and he looks about to say something, but my phone vibrates on my bedside table. He grabs it and offers it to me.

“Who is it?” I ask while I’m in the process of putting my clothes on.

“Marcus.”

I stiffen.

“Briar? Who the fuck is Marcus.”

“Don’t answer it.”

“Why? What’s wrong— He just sent a text. He said it’s an emergency.”

*-*-*-*

Fuck. What the hell does my uncle want now? It’s been a while since I came over last time. What could possibly be an emergency? It has to be about money again.

I glance at Rurik sitting next to me and feel a new set of anxiety washing over me at the thought of seeing his reaction when he meets my biological family. I tried to get him to stay in my apartment and even told him he should go home and probably spend the night there instead.

But he refused. Now he's coming with me to visit my dear uncle, and I'm terrified as hell.

A hand lands on my knee, and I immediately look at it and the owner.

"Relax," Rurik says, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against my thigh. "You okay?"

“Yeah, angel. I’m good.”

Rurik stares at me for a few seconds before nodding slowly.

As soon as we park in the driveway, Rurik gets out of the passenger seat and runs around to open the door for me. I take his hand, and he kisses the back of it, smiling.

“I can’t believe I finally get to meet your family, baby.” He grins, looking excited.

Oh, fuck me.

I’m sweating like crazy; it’s disgusting.

“You haven’t properly introduced me to yours,” I mutter, trying to calm my nerves.

“Right,” Rurik ducks his head and sighs. “Soon, okay? I promise I won’t hide you anymore.”

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