Page 84 of Foul Territory
It did become an inside joke between the two of us. It didn’t matter who asked us to do something, we both would always answer ‘as you wish.’ It drove Nash crazy. He didn’t like being left out. It was one thing I shared with Koa that I got to keep to myself.
Inside the cottage, there are two tables filled with different paints and stencils for face painting. Children are lined up on either side of the tables while their parents attempt to turn them into unicorns, princesses, and kings.
Koa gets in line and I giggle. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? You can paint whatever you want on me.”
I glide up to him in line. “That is a dangerous offer. Are you sure you trust me?”
Koa sits in the chair that a newly crowned princess just vacated. He drops all of his stuff at his feet and pushes it underneath the chair.
His knees spread apart inviting me closer. “My body is yours. Do your worst,” he says, spreading his arms wide.
Heat rushes to the surface of my skin. Clearing my throat, I focus my attention on all the various colors of paint. It’s much safer than looking at the guy with a pair of slanted brown eyes and cut jawline.
Oh God, I can’t paint his face. My cheeks will flush. I’ll start to sweat. No way will I survive the five minutes—minimum— needed to paint something decent on his face with him staring back at me.
I turn my head enough to gaze at him out of the corner of my eye. Of course he's already looking at me. He is always watching me. I was under the impression it was out of allegiance to my brother but now it seems it was to satisfy his own needs.
I would be lying if the thought of me satisfying his needs didn’t make me feel a little wet and needy myself.
That thought puts wind in my sails and knocks me down a flight of stairs at the same time. I wasted years believing my attraction was one sided. He had to know how I felt about him? Why didn’t he ever say anything?
I gather a few paints in various shades of blue, purple, and white. Then I turn back toward Koa. “Some of my favorite books are based on Greek mythology.” I undo the top button of his shirt, revealing more of the white shirt he’s wearing underneath. “Are you familiar with any of their stories?”
His eyes flit around the room, checking to see if anyone is paying attention to us.
“No one is watching,” I whisper, stepping closer in between his legs, while continuing to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes.” His voice is huskier than before. I pull on one of his sleeves and help him out of the right side of his shirt. I leave the sleeve dangling behind him as I push up the sleeve on his white T-shirt until it’s rolled tight over his shoulder. His skin pebbles as I glide my hand over the cut lines of his biceps and over the line of tattoos he already has on his arm. They are the perfect canvas for what I wantto draw.
“They believe the constellations immortalize their stories.” Holding the pot of blue paint in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, I carefully start drawing on Koa’s upper arm. “That the stars serve as a reminder of their legacy.” I exchange the blue paint for white.
“Stars represent truth and destiny. They are constant and reliable.” I continue to paint stars on his arm in an array of shapes and sizes. “You can even use stars for navigation to help guide you to where you need to be.”
I blow gently on his arm encouraging the paint to dry faster. Koa’s eyes shutter closed and he grabs my thigh for support. I write out a few words in between the clusters of stars.
“No matter what. Our story will be remembered in the stars.” I barely get the words out before my emotions get the best of me. Giving him my back, I busy myself cleaning off the paint filled brushes with a baby wipe they have available.
“Sydney,” he pleads, grabbing my elbow urging me to turn around. His face begins to blur as tears pool in my eyes. “No matter what,” he says. The warmth and softness in his voice dull a few of the sharp edges of my heart.
“No matter what,” I repeat.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and passes it to me. “Can you take a picture for me?” he asks. I nod and snap a quick photo of his arm before handing his phone back. The corner of his mouth twitches, forming half a smile before he puts the phone away.
“Do you like it?” I can’t helpasking.
“I love it. Switch places with me.” He grabs hold of my waist and helps spin me around. Once I’m settled, I wait patiently for Koa to get started. The way his eyes wander over my body feels like he is stripping me bare.
“What are you going to paint?”
“At first I was thinking about a crown.” His pointer finger slips underneath my bangs and pushes them to the side. “But I don’t want to get paint in your hair,” he says, as my curls bounce back into place.
I had my hair in braids last semester. As soon as I took them out, I had an itch to cut bangs. It’s usually something I would do and regret but I’ve loved the way they frame my face. I’m even more grateful knowing they are saving me from having Koa within kissing distance. If he were that close, nothing could stop me from staring at his plush lips. I shouldn’t be thinking about his lips or kissing him. One of his kisses will only make me want more.
He pulls out another chair and sets it in front of me. Before he sits down he selects a pot of red paint. His finger glides down the side of my neck and over the top of my cleavage. I’m afraid to move, to breathe.
“How about a pretty little necklace?” he asks, placing his hand at the base of my neck. “Would you like that, baby?”
