Page 54 of Outside the Lines
“Sure you can.” I collected my wallet and keys. “I want you to have it.” A little piece of me. “Paint it. It can be . . .” It could be a memory of us.
“All right.” His voice was reverent and soft.
I packed the sculpture in bubble wrap and a random cardboard box, and Simon carried it down to the car. Bliss when he looked at the contents. Adoration too. Simon seemed to have an infinite capacity to love. I didn’t understand it.
On the way to his house, we held hands when we could, and I succeeded in not letting out any of the tears in my throat or the ones lurking behind my eyes.
Simon touched my thigh. “What will you be working on next?”
At least I could talk shop without cracking. “A flashback scene. Have to recreate the ambiance of Bluewater Bay from the seventies. It uses trick photography and angles, so I’ll be building individual miniature pieces, rather than a big set.”
“Sounds like fun.”
My smile came easily. “Yeah, it should be.” My humor fled when I turned onto Simon’s street. In moments, I pulled over in front of his house.Theirhouse. “Say hi to Lydia for me?” My throat felt tight. I’d miss her too. Dexy and Jesse. My temporary little family.
“Of course.” He laughed and pulled me into a hug that turned into a kiss, which turned into me indulging in a last taste of those lips and that mouth. I swallowed one of Simon’s delightful moans.
“God,” he said, when we broke apart. “You’re too much.” He stroked my cheek. “Call me?”
“Sure.” I was so damn good at lying. “I’ll see you around, Si.”
“You better.” He opened the door and climbed out into his life.
I pulled away from the curb and headed back to mine. “Goodbye, Simon,” I said to his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Once I was back on familiar roads, I let the tears fall.
My feet felt like they weren’t touching the ground. I was sore in all the right ways and I had a gift from Ian in my hands. When I got into the house, I made my way into the kitchen—if Lydia were home, that’s where she’d be. And she was, sitting at the kitchen table, her Kindle in front of her and a mug in her hand. Purrbody occupied the chair next to her, looking regal on the light blue cushion. The whole place was white and blue and yellow, and our royal kitty somehow knew he was as pretty as a model sitting there.
Lydia grinned at me over her coffee. “Wow. Looks like you had a good time.”
Hell, yes, I had. I set the box down on the island and crossed over to her. “Overall, yeah.” I gave His Royal Fluff a scritch on the head, and he presented his cheeks for me to scratch as well. “The filming was a bit rough. Hard to see something you worked so intently on go up in flames, but it came out great on camera, and the director explained the camera and the shot to me.” I sat down across from Lydia. “And I met Hunter Easton.”
Her coffee mug clanked down on the table. “No, you didn’t!”
Purrbody seemed downright disgusted at the outburst, but he didn’t move his fluff, just swished his tail.
“I did! Honest! I should’ve gotten a photo, but I didn’t want to ask . . .” I mean, it isn’t every day you meet an idol, but . . . he also was a local.
She sat back. “Yeah, I get that. I wouldn’t have asked, either.” Probably for the same reason.
“Right? Anyway, after that, I was pretty out of it, so Ian took me to his place.”
“And you had a blast.” Her sexy sly smile was back.
I shivered from the memory of Ian’s hands over my body and the press of the gag’s cock in my mouth. His grin when he cuffed me to his headboard. “He’s . . .” I spread my hands, helplessly and met her gaze. “I’mreallyin love with him.”
“Si, Iknow.” Her smile didn’t diminish when she took another sip of coffee. “I’m so happy for you.”
“I think . . . I think we need to talk about long-term.” Me and Ian. Her and me. All of us.
This time, she set the mug down slowly, but there was no shock on her face. “Figured we’d get here soon, too.”
Sometimes Lydia knew me better than I knew myself. “When?”
“When he came to dinner the other day. The way you looked at each other.” She stretched out her hand across the table, and I took it. “You looked at Ian the same way you look at me when you’re under the impression I’m not noticing you.”
Oh. I guess thatwouldgive it away.
She squeezed my hand, and her smile was open and real. “We’ll make it work, Si. I love you and want to see you happy.” Those were an echo of the words I’d spoken to her when we’d first talked about her and Dexy’s dad, Vince.
