Page 115 of Mine to Ruin

I toss another pillow at Aubrey, but hit Kendrick instead, and we burst into laughter. He throws it back at me, then Kian picks one up, and pandemonium ensues.

At some point, Jason raises his hands and says, “Let’s call it quits. I am starving.”

After the men make a barbecue, we set the table. They bring in the meat and open two bottles of wine. Surrounded by my fiancé and my friends, ease and happiness paint my life in a rainbow of colors.

We enjoy the next two days, from ATV drifting challenges to wandering through the forest, to barbecues, and chilled nights with wolves howling in the distance.

In my studio on Monday morning, Brandon’s head appears behind a bouquet of white roses.

“I am sorry, okay? I don’t know what happened to me.” He scratches his neck and I turn to my canvas.

“I need time. I am sorry, but you hurt me, and ruined my trust in you.”

He sighs, opening then closing his mouth, then he places the flowers on my desk and leaves.

He won’t even tell me the real reason why he jeopardized our friendship. I don’t even know which hurts worse. The wound is still fresh, and the guilt I am feeling keeping it from Kian chews my insides.

I have lunch with Tara and I keep stabbing the pasta in my plate.

“Tell me,” she says, noticing my mood and I do.

She ponders for a moment. “It’s bad either way, if you tell Kian, he will never forgive Brandon, plus it’s only going to make their relationship worse. If you don’t tell him and he finds out someday, you’ll never be able to make him see reason. But Kendrick is your witness, so let’s hope it stays buried.”

Back in my studio, I let the finished painting dry and for the remainder of the day, I start a new painting that will go into the gallery.

Lorene halts in the middle of the studio, paintings on each side of her, and she claps, praising my good work. Before she leaves, she looks at my ring and says, “Congratulations.” I offer her a bright smile as I glance at my ring, but guilt rears its ugly head, dampening my happiness.

I can’t tell Kian, and not just to protect Brandon. I am utterly and madly in love with him, and if I have to keep the secret to protect him, I will.

With each day, Brandon goes back to his goofy self, to my friend. The sincerity shining in his hazel eyes makes it hard not to forgive him.

At his incessant tries, I give in. He takes me in his arms, swinging me around. I laugh, and yell at him to put me down, threatening to kill him if he drops me.

Kian enters and says, “If you drop her, I will drop you.”

Brandon nods in Kian’s direction then he dips his head and kisses my cheek, only an inch away from my mouth. “See you.”

Why does Brandon have to provoke him all the time? Am I deluding myself trying to hold onto a friendship Brandon obviously doesn’t care about jeopardizing?

“So, still innocent and all? He almost kissed your mouth.” His finger slides down my neck.

I lean into his touch and say, “I am yours, Kian.”

I show him with everything in me he is the only one for me, and still, I catch him eyeing me as if he is missing something. I think about telling him about the kiss, consequences be damned.

As a last resort, to make him realize what he means to me, the only language left is using my art. I shut myself in the studio of our home while he leaves to train, and I don’t get up until the painting is finished.

Once it’s done, I put the brush down, and stretch my hands above my head. Kian’ breath trails over my exposed shoulder, his eyes on the juxtaposing three images. A fiery red heart, a form like earth, and in the middle a male figure, layers of paintings to create depth.

“The center of your world?” He kisses down my neck and I nod.

I turn in my chair and unbutton his shirt, pecking him on the chest.

He pulls me back, seeking my eyes. “Whose are you?”

“Yours.”

He grabs my hand and ushers me into our bedroom and pushes me down on the bed.

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