Page 90 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

He’s such a walking contradiction, my angel.

He says shit that should make me think he hates me, yet he goes and does this. Does he even realize how his eyes keep darting to my mouth every time I smile up at him?

“I’d love to rock you if that’s what you mean.” I tease, kissing the tip of his nose.

His nose wrinkles in disgust, and it makes him look so damn adorable.

“We’re never going to work, Briar.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know.” His thumbs make their way under my shirt.

“Are you trying to manifest that?”

“What the bloody fuck are you talking about? Manifest what?”

“I’ll take that as a no.” I kiss his cheeks and watch as they turn pink. “So tell me. Did you miss me?”

He inhales deeply, glaring at me.

I raise a brow, waiting.

When he doesn’t say anything, I shrug. “I know society says men shouldn’t talk about their feelings, but that’s bullshit, you know? It’s just me. Just an ordinary woman wanting to know if she’s been missed.”

“I don’t think you should be categorized under ‘ordinary,’ Briar.”

“Oh my god.” I suddenly gasp sharply, one of my hands covering my mouth as I stare at him with wide eyes.

His eyes also grew as his hands tighten around me. He stares at my face with alarm. “What? What is it?”

“You just said I was extraordinary.” I grin stupidly.

He blinks, confusion settling in his features, making him look so fucking adorable I want to squeeze his cheeks.

"No, I didn't," he says slowly, as if carefully considering his words.

“You said I’m not considered ordinary.” Kissing his jaw and earning a sharp breath from him. “Which means you think I’m extraordinary.”

Rurik swallows hard. “Are you always this crazy?”

I lick his Adam’s apple because I’m that obsessed with it. “Are you always this romantic?”

He glares, and I teasingly glare back.

“Tell me you missed me, Rurik,” I whisper, playfully tapping the tip of his nose to hide how badly I want to hear him admit it.

Yes, I missed him.

Yes, I want him to admit he missed me too.

And yes, I fucking know he did.

Then, as if he realizes how cute we're being, his face drains of color, and he mutters a string of curses. His hand drops from my back as if I shocked him and he straightens up, forcing me to back away from him.

“Fuck,” Rurik says under his breath, standing up and pacing between me and the sinks.

Rurik looks like he's having some intense inner dialogue with himself. He sighs heavily here and there, rubbing his face and running his fingers through his luscious hair.

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