Page 71 of Bound to You

He doesn’t seem mad that I didn’t tell him it was today, May must have told him I don’t like making a fuss, although that’s exactly what this is.

“I read online a while ago about paint-n-sips, and I thought it was something you might enjoy.” A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, he knows I’ve been thinking about painting again, but I haven’t had the courage to pick up a brush yet.

This is more than perfect.

I take a better look around the room, gigantic wine glasses sit on little tables beside each easel, bubbles floating to the surface of the rose colored liquid filling the glasses. Sunset colored tulips are dotted around the room.

I can feel the work Caio put in to making this perfect for me, and just like that he tugs at another piece of my heart, asking it to be his. I’m struggling to keep from handing over the whole thing.

“It’s wonderful.” I reach up on my toes to kiss him. Butterflies dancing in my stomach every time my lips touch his, the public affection feeling completely natural.

“I want you to be free to reconnect with this part of yourself with no pressure, but if this is too much or you don’t feel like it?—“

“No,” I interrupt, grabbing his hands in mine. “This is amazing, it’s too much, but it’s amazing. I love it Caio.”

“Good.” He brushes a knuckle over my cheek, some of the nervous tension lifting off his shoulders.

“Okay, well I’ll get going,” he turns to leave.

“You’re not staying?”

“I want you to be free of any expectations, do what you love without me hovering.”

“I want you to hover.” I always want him near lately.

He cracks a devastating smile. “I’ll be waiting at Marina’s when you’re done, don’t think I don’t have my own celebrations in mind.” He winks at me, those butterflies flying south. He grabs me by the shoulders and steers me towards an easel, before plonking me down on the stool in front of it.

“I’ll see you soon,” he leans down, placing a kiss on my head before walking out.

My attention draws to the group in front of me, the people I’ve come to consider my family are all here to celebrate me, and I don’t think I’ve ever loved a birthday more.

Leo letsthe cork fly of our third bottle of champagne of the night.

“Leo! Your cork nearly smudged my painting!” Marina scolds, taking this very seriously. She hasn’t shown any of us her painting yet, she said it’s a surprise for later. She’s also slightlytipsy, the girl is even more of a lightweight than me, and that’s saying something.

“I’ll be sure to tell your cousin my cock nearly smudged your painting when I see him next,” Leo laughs. Rafael chuckles under his breath from where he sits across from me.

“Your cork!” She emphasizes the “ork,” dragging out the end of the word.

“Would you two shut the fuck up? I’m trying to focus here,” Heath says. He’s painting Betty, one of his best goats, and is insanely focused. Meanwhile May is beside me doing a self-portrait that looks like a five-year-old painted it, sending us into fits of laughter every time she asks for my opinion.

The smell of paint and champagne floats through the air, carrying the essence of delight with it.

Even Rafael can’t hide the smile that I see creeping up his face every time May doubles over in laughter, or when Marina continuously blames Leo for her failing masterpiece.

I look out the window, a warm and fuzzy feeling settling over me. I realize now why Caio didn’t stay, he wanted me to celebrate with my friends. If he was here, I’d be distracted by him, either I’d feel the pressure to make sure my painting was good just in case he glanced over at it, or I’d just be staring at him the whole time. I wouldn’t feel as relaxed, not that he stresses me out, he does the complete opposite.

Caio makes me feel grounded and safe, like I’m wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, content and comfortable. Like I’m exactly where I should be. But the people closest to me have always had some expectations of me. They looked at my painting like it was nothing but a silly fantasy, like it’s not enough, and I know without him saying it that he doesn’t want me to feel like that around him, but I don’t think I ever could.

It’s a different kind of feeling with him.

Caio pushes me to do what makes me happy, encouraging me in a gentle way, as if my goals are his own, all while letting me know that it doesn’t have to mean anything unless I want it to. Giving me the freedom to leave it as a birthday activity with my friends, or to use it as a stepping stone across the stream of my nervous uncertainty.

I always felt like I needed to be so independent because of my past, never wanting to rely on anyone just to be let down, but I’m quickly becoming addicted to the feeling that Caio gives me, I never realized how much I needed someone to be that for me.

My thoughts are interrupted by May tapping the end of her paintbrush against her glass. “I just want to make a little speech for our Isla here,”

Marina hoots from her seat beside May.

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