Page 68 of Choose the Bears

Imogen

I was a complete idiot and now everyone knew.

That was a tad overly dramatic, but hey, I didn’t exactly have an Emily Post sanctioned response to being caught dry humping one of the guys that helped you leave your shit ex by the other guy who helped you out. So right now my cheeks were burning red hot, the feeling of shame keeping my lips tightly closed.

“So one of the previous therapists had the kids playing with this paint mix.” Kyle’s voice sounded strained, which only made this ten times worse. “I think they mixed flour in with it?”

“Corn flour.” Where had that come from? Oh, me. I shook my head, then stopped. Kyle noted this and turned to face me. “They would’ve used cornflour. It makes a nice consistency in finger paint, lets kids draw with their fingers in it and then you can take a print from it with paper.”

“I knew I had the right woman for the job.” His smile was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, a welcome sight. “I grabbed some regular flour and would’ve made a real mess of things.”

Well, I knew what that felt like. I swallowed hard and put my big girl panties on, figuring the only way to get rid of the elephant in the room was to address it.

“I’m sorry about… that.”Yeah, great apology, I thought furiously. “I’m sorry you found me with Lucas.”

“Why?” The smile faded and something else rose, turning his eyes to gold. “Did Luc hurt you? Do anything you didn’t want?”

“What? No, I…” Just admit shit, I thought to myself. Stop the foreplay and confess. Foreplay was an unfortunate choice in words, but hey, here we were. “Lucas was comforting me and one thing led to another.”

“So you kissed him?”

Why did Kyle seem so pleased by that idea? Was he ready to pimp his friend out or something?

“Um yeah, at first, then the kissing seemed pretty much both our ideas.”

“And how did that feel?”

It could’ve been a cool, clinical question, but his low purr of a tone had me thinking of Crispin the tiger shifter in the book I was reading. I blinked, remembering why I’d gone to Lucas in the first place.

To ask him if he was a bear shifter.

I could do that right now, but as Kyle stared, my nerve left me. The idea seemed completely and utterly ridiculous now, so I forged on.

“Good. Really good.” I shrugged. “Better than it has…”

Ever been, I quickly realised. No one had ever kissed me like that, with such a combination of sweetness and sensuality, which was perhaps why my fingers went to my lips. It was as if by touching them I could recover that pleasure.

“Good.” Kyle shot me a smug smile. “You can go back to him if you want more. I’d advise locking the door, but?—”

“You want me to…?” I shook my head. “No, you guys are employing me to help out, so I’ll help. I’ll make up some finger paint and if I want… more of that, I’ll see if Lucas is interested once the work is done.”

“OK, if that’s what you want.” A perfectly reasonable response from Kyle, but there was a strange edge to it, something that had me reexamining my memory of him busting us. He wasn’t amused, horrified, or annoyed by catching us mid clinch. Kyle seemed…

Into it.

Like he wanted to watch every second of what was happening, right before he?—

Finger paint, I told myself firmly, moving down the hallway to find a gaggle of kids waiting by the door.

“We’ve got some eager little artists,” Ursula said, but the truth was more complex. Some kids seemed unfazed, fidgeting and moving like a happy young child might, but others…? There were shadows in their eyes. Ones we could hopefully dispel with some art, I hoped, walking in through the door.

“Ready to do some finger painting?” I asked brightly.

“Yeah!” the more energetic kids said, coming rushing in. Kyle took over, very gently shepherding the less-certain children inside.

It was nowI realised what a mistake teaching art would’ve been.

There was paint everywhere. On the tables, because we’d poured an amount on each laminated surface, ready for the children to play with, but also all over the plastic smocks we’d had to make each child pull on. In their hair (thankfully it was not the kind that would stain), on their hands, their faces.Ursula had hung around to help and was cackling at the mess everywhere.

---