Page 28 of Lovers in Lockdown

‘No.’

For a second, I think she’s joking, but her deadpan expression and the abrupt way she says it has me realising that she is, in fact, completely damn serious.

The woman really is weird.

‘No?’ My brow creases in confusion.

‘No.’

Well, alright then.

I set her cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of her and go back to the kitchen, looking for something to do that will distract me from whatever the hell is going on with Honey.

Because, seriously, what the fuck was that about?

I know Honey can be a bit temperamental, that much has been obvious since the very first day when she slammed the bedroom door in my face, but I’m not sure what was so bad about me asking to see her paintings that would warrant such a defensive reaction.

But maybe she just isn’t used to people showing an interest in her work. I know that her parents have never seen anything she’s done and she told me a while ago that she’s too self-conscious to have an exhibition in a gallery.

Yeah, that must be it.

If not, she’s an even bigger weirdo than I originally thought.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Honey

Jesus Christ on a pogo stick,that was a close shave.

If Noah knew what I’d been painting over the last couple of days, the humiliation I would face as a result would end me. Seriously. I would just shrivel up like a mortified, disgraced prune. I’m not one to be dramatic, but I think I would actually die.

Okay, dramatic is like my middle name, but I swear I’m not lying.

The truth is, over the last couple of days, when I was supposed to be cleansing my mind of Noah and his sixteen-thousand abs, I’ve been using said abs as inspiration for my art.

I didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like I set out with the intention of painting a full-body naked portrait of him, but one thing led to another. It was out of my control, I let the paintbrush take the lead and, what can I say, the paintbrush wants what the paintbrush wants.

And apparently what it wants is Noah naked.

But over my decaying corpse will Noah ever see that painting. It is a secret of the absolute highest variety. I can only hope I played it cool enough that he doesn’t suspect there’s anything amiss.

‘So anyway,’ I say with all the nonchalance I’m capable of, ‘I have another class today, but I was thinking that maybe I could cook dinner for us later?’

Noah stops doing whatever it is that he’s doing in the kitchen and turns to me with an open mouth. ‘What?’

‘Thought it could be fun,’ I shrug. ‘You’ve made dinner every night for the past few weeks.’

‘Oh, I see,’ he raises his eyebrows. ‘Think you can do a better job than me, huh?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ I squint at him, his sensitivity taking me by surprise. Didn’t realise he was so territorial over the kitchen.

‘It’s what I heard.’ He turns away from me and starts fiddling with the wooden spoons that are hanging from a wire rack on the wall.

‘No, no,’ I stutter, confused, ‘I just meant -’

‘Relax,’ he grins at me, his green eyes twinkling.

He’s messing with me.

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