Page 235 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

I stare at my stepdad, hoping for him to understand. But he continues to glare at me, his face growing redder with each passing second that I don't refuse her.

He inhales deeply, his tone laced with warning. “Rurik.”

“Rurik,” Briar also says.

I look at her and… There.

It’s like my choices decided to attack me all at once and punch me in the face as I stare between her and my stepdad. One person has grown to mean so much to me and makes me feel like I'm the most important person in the world, versus the person who is saving my life and protecting me and my mum.

“I’m sorry,” I croak, shaking my head as my mind continues battling. Why am I even choosing? This shouldn’t even be a question—

“You’ll be fucking sorry if you don’t follow my ass home, Rurik.” Briar’s melodic voice breaks through my muddled brain. “Endless. Remember?”

That word.

Endless.

I drop my hands, not realizing I am pulling my hair like a crazy person. I glance at Briar, her eyes shining with anger. But if I look deeply, I can see another emotion she’s trying to hide.

Fear.

Fear for what?

I shake my head, turning to look at my stepdad. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t leave her.”

“Remember what I said, Rurik.” He answers. “I also pay for your medical bills. You owe me—”

“He doesn’t owe you shit,” Briar snaps, wrapping her hands around mine. She takes my chin with her fingers and forces me to look at her. “Fuck him, angel. He may be the father figure in your life, but he is no family to you.” She pulls my hand and rests it on her chest. “Let me be yours, Rurik. Let me be your family and take care of you.” She swallows hard, her eyes brimming with hope and unshed tears as she whispers so only I can hear her. “Let us be your family.”

I’m kissing her before she can continue talking. Her mouth opens with a gasp, and I hungrily drink her in, my arms tightly wrapped around her waist as I pull her into me.

Fuck.

Kissing her feels like I can breathe again. I feel like the indecisiveness, the fear, the cowardness just melt away with each stroke of her tongue against mine, with each little tiny noise she makes when I nibble her lips. I could feel the warmth of her hands radiating against my skin as I devour her whole.

She makes me feel alive. Like I'm not about to die any moment from a broken heart. How can I die from it when my heart isn't mine anymore? I can't break what's not mine.

Can she feel what I’m feeling?

Can she feel how much she means to me?

Can she feel how much she’s broken me?

I don’t give a shit if I’m kissing her in front of my stepdad. I don’t give a shit if we’re standing in the middle of the Farmers Market. I don’t give a shit that cameras surround us and that nosy people can take pictures of us and post them on gossip sites.

I. Don’t. Give. A. Shit.

Not anymore.

“Rurik, wait,” Briar sighs, placing her hand on my chest to gently push me away.

But like a boomerang, I throw myself back to her.

I release a sharp exhale, cradling her cheeks as I kiss her. I can feel her lips curl into a smile, and her soft giggles wash over me like a drug addict craving a hit.

Only she's the drug, and I'm fucking addicted.

After a few minutes, I pull away, sensing she needs air to breathe. A blanket of tenderness envelops me as I gaze at her, and she bites her bottom lip to suppress a grin. I swallow hard, noticing her eyes darting to my throat, and I fight to keep my grin at bay. She quickly kisses my Adam’s Apple and then turns to my stepdad.

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