Page 86 of Fresh Canvas
I knew, without a doubt, that I was in love with Amantha.
Vapor beaded on the cool mirror as I stepped out, dried off, and wrapped a towel around my waist. Slicking my wet hair back, I padded into my room. The summer sun streamed through the window, glinting off Stella’s silver picture frame. After stepping into a pair of cotton shorts and yanking a fitted black shirt over my head, I stopped to admire it.
Gosh she’s beautiful.
I grinned, recalling what a nervous wreck I had been on our wedding day too. Falling in love always contained a fine print of my insecurities. Could I make her happy? Would I be enough?WasI enough?
While Stella’s picture didn’t cause the agonizing pain it used to, I still ached for her—always would. Over the years, the harrowing grief had softened into a hollow pit. An empty void. A literal removal of her presence.
“I miss you.” My whisper condensed across the glass of the picture frame.
Despite her smile, it felt like Stella’s eyes bore accusingly into mine, as if she knew I had fallen in love with someone else. Guilt pressed hard on my stomach.
Feeling ridiculous, I pleaded with her through the glass. “I really think you’d like her, Stel.”
The silence felt unnerving. I wasn’t superstitious, nor did Inecessarily believe in an afterlife, but I wished for a sign from her. An impossible cosmic admittance of her blessing.
Despite it all, I knew I wanted Amantha in my life. She was like the sun, filtering through my shadows. Now, I just wanted to somehow know that Stella was okay with it.
The doorbell rang.
I set the frame down, then rushed to the door and pressed the intercom button.
“Come on up.” I cringed at the nerves in my voice. Once I swung the door open to the vacant hallway, I leaned against the frame and waited.
Even a golden retriever would have been ashamed of my pathetic eagerness to wait at the door. I decided to queue up the menu of Amantha’s favorite Thai restaurant on my phone so we could place a takeout order.At the sight of Amantha stepping out of the elevator, I almost buckled over.
Leg day was a bad idea.
My siren temptress wore frayed denim shorts and sandals. Instead of the casual t-shirts I’d come to expect, she wore a ruffled white blouse that wrapped around her bare shoulders. A dainty golden necklace glinted at the base of her throat. Loose sunshine brushed down her back in soft, fluffy waves.
My own personal sun.
I swallowed as Amantha stepped close, wrapping her arms around my middle. She blinked up at me, eyes the color of a silver mist over an early morning lake, and I was captivated entirely.
“I missed you,” she murmured.
That look.Amantha looked at me like a kid who’d won the lottery, and I was the candy shop. If she didn’t stop soon, I prayed she’d be able to drag my brawny, unconscious body inside—if only to close the door so the neighbors wouldn’t see how whipped I was.
“I missed you more.” I placed a single finger under her chin, lifting her lips to mine. The erratic beat of my heart took off asmy mouth met hers. I couldn’t ignore the primal rush of attraction that accompanied it.
Trouble, trouble, trouble.
Amantha broke the kiss with a shy smile, then sidled past and pulled me inside. I couldn’t help gawking after her as she walked down the hall.
More curves than the Daytona racetrack.
She sniffed the air, turning to me as disappointment knitted her brows.
“You’re not cooking?”
A cocky smirk curled my mouth. “What do you take me for? A personal chef?”
Whatever feeble strength left in my knees vanished as Amantha yanked me close to her against the wall. My arms shot out instinctively, bracing them on either side of her. That “come hither” look she gave had heat tinging the tops of my ears.
This woman.
“I’ll take you however I want, thank you very much.” Amantha’s lips crashed into mine, her soft hands sliding up my jaw.
