Page 91 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

“I don’t like you, Briar,” he repeats for the 1000th time.

I indulge him anyway. “Not even when I swallowed you whole?”

Rurik's face flushes crimson once more, his jaw tightly clenched, and a flicker of anger ignites within that captivating gaze.

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” He snaps, his eyes wide and wild. He points at the exit door, “Go find another obsession, Briar. I won’t be your next plaything. We may have done some things, but I still don’t want you. You’re just too chaotic, and it’s too much.”

Ah, there you are, asshole. Can’t say I missed you.

Fury and rage surge within me as I fix my gaze on him. My heart races so rapidly that I can feel my body temperature rising and sweat beginning to form. With clenched fists, I struggle to quell the storm of anger raging inside me.

Calm down, girl.

I tuck my hands behind my back, concealing the blood I can feel seeping from my palms where my nails had dug in with force.

Focus on that pain instead.

My nails dig deeper, and the stinging in my palms becomes sharper.

Shit, he’s watching my every move. I clear my throat and offer him a charming smile. "Be careful, angel. The more you shower me with compliments, the more I might start to believe you actually like me."

Rurik's eyes remain fixed on me, unblinking, as his gaze slowly roams from my face down to my arms, then to where my hands are concealed. With a furrowed brow, he returns his attention to my face.

What the fuck is he judging me for now? Did he expect me to explode, throw shit, and hurt him? I could never.

He may be a fucking uptight dick, but he’s my uptight dick.

He lets out a frustrated grunt and walks past me, pausing with his hand on the door handle.

A sudden surge of hopefulness replaces my resentment but quickly diminishes when he opens the door and walks out.

*-*-*-*

As soon as I clean my hands and fix my appearance — My lips are swollen as fuck, and my hair looks like something birds would love to settle in.

In other words, I look like I snuck into my best friend’s bathroom to fuck my lover with my mouth. And it was hella delightful.

Until Rurik ruined it by continuing his push-and-pull game.

“Girl, where the hell were you?”

I blink, clearing my thoughts as I notice Nat staring at me with her arms crossed. She looks at me as if I'm her kid caught eating from the dessert cabinet before dinner—she’s not wrong. She seems disappointed and... amused.

“Bathroom,” I say, totally not lying at all.

“That’s funny,” Nat says, raising a brow. “That’s where Rurik said he was too.”

“Huh,” I say lightly, shrugging as I approach her. “That’s hilarious.”

She rolls her eyes, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Where did he go?” I ask as we both walk to the living room.

I look around and am surprised to see how clean everything looks again and that there's nobody there.

That was fast.

“We gathered all the trash while you were gone, and Rurik came out and said he had to go,” she explains. He took the trash bags with him and left.”

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