FOURTEEN
A devious smile curls my lips when I see Kayla’s painting on the backseat. She forgot about it. Or perhaps, she had the intention to give it to me.
“Hm.” I place the bag with her easel next to it and shut the door, leaving right after.
When she asked me to touch her, I was so surprised but sure as hell wanted to.
Fear stopped me, and it’s for the best.
I know I won’t be kind to that mouth or her body. I’ve thought about what she looks like under her clothes more times than I can count. How she’d feel on my cock.
Fuck. I guess I’ll be beating off in the shower tonight again.
Reaching home, I pull into my spot in the four-car garage. Mom’s Porsche is here.
Grabbing the stuff from the backseat, I head to the guest house. I lean Kayla’s oil painting against the wall in one of the bedrooms and start to assemble her easel.
At the sound of the sliding door, I stall, nerves on alert as my mind flashes back to that day.
Anxious, I clench my fists.
My body relaxes when Britney peers into the room. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I huff and resume screwing the pieces together. “Next time announce yourself. You know I hate it.”
“Sorry.” She plops down on the side of the bed. “Whose easel and painting?”
“Kayla.”
She giggles. “So, my brother finally got himself a girlfriend.” Britney gives me a sly smirk when I peer up at her from the carpet. “I like Kayla. She seems sweet.”
“Kayla’s a good person,” I say, refocusing on the easel. “She deserves better than me, but I still want her.”
“You’re good, too,” Britney mutters. “You need to realize that.”
I pause with a screw, considering her words. I haven’t felt that great since that horrible day.
She straightens on her feet. “Anyway, Mom asked me to tell you we’re eating dinner together.”
“I’ll eat when I finish this,” I say without meeting her gaze.
There’s a brief pause, then Britney utters, “She’s on her fourth glass.”
I slowly turn my head in wonder. “What else is new.”
Britney lingers in the spot, quietly watching me.
“I hope it works out with Kayla,” she murmurs before leaving.
I look at the painting of the vase and tulips. A peaceful feeling grows in my body, akin to what I experience when viewing Kayla’s sketch of the sunset.
I’ve only ever felt that way with her and through her art. It’s why I want her. Perhaps she’s the peace that will tame the monster inside, once and for all.