Page 55 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

He bites back a smile and scratches his chin, looking me up and down. “Agree to disagree.” With a solid slap to Milo’s back, Jos adds, “Come on, son. Let’s not keep our first interviewee waiting.”

Milo sets the car seat down next to me. “You good?”

“Yup. See you in a few.”

They disappear into a room at the back of the building as I bend down and rock Peanut’s car seat a few times. It’s weird in here. Quiet. The shop must be closed because I’m the only one in the waiting area. It’s separated from the main part of the shop with a half-wall. A few leather chairs are scattered around, and I take a seat on the closest one, dragging Penny’s car seat with me.

So this is it. This place stole Milo’s heart, and it’sstillmanaging to steal most of his time. It’s the only place where he feels like he really belongs.

And he does belong here.

I can see it.

Hell, I can almost feel it.

The rough brick. The urban decor and splashes of color littered along the walls. The frames showcasing Etch 'N Ink’s talented artists.

My breath hitches as a certain sketch catches my eye among the multitude of artwork. Standing back up, I inch closer, my fingers outstretched but still hesitant as if it will disappear if I touch it. It’s a simple drawing on white paper. The lines are gray and short as they portray a naked woman, her silhouette shadowed from a bright light to her left as she lays on a bed with the sheets tangled around her.

I remember this moment. It was one of my favorites. We’d been laughing, joking about how sex can still be fun when it’s between two people after we both gave in and finally hooked up without Gibson there for the first time. It’s when I’d hinted I liked being with him andonlyhim.

He’d brushed off my compliment, positive I was talking shit after a few good orgasms, and my brain cells would stop short-circuiting if I gave it a few minutes.

I’d dropped the subject, not wanting to push my luck.

But my stupid brain cells never came back.

Nope.

I fell even harder for the bastard.

Dragging my finger along the simple black frame, I memorize the drawing and try not to choke on the lump in my throat.

He kept it? Why? We’d been joking when he offered to draw me. I figured he would’ve burned it after the hell I put him through. But it’s here. In his home away from home.

The hinges squeak from the back room door, and I drop my hand to my side while trying not to look guilty, even though I have no idea why I should feel sorry. If he didn’t want me looking at the drawing, he wouldn’t have hung it up.

“We’ll be in touch,” Jos informs a girl as she flips her long dark hair over her tattooed shoulder. Actually, her entire arm is covered in bright, swirling ink.

Virgin skin she does not have.

She smiles sweetly and offers her hand for Jos and Milo to shake. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“You too.”

Her heels click against the polished floor as she slips past me and out the front while Milo and Jos are left whispering near the back room like a couple of hens. Staring at me.

“So…” I hook my thumb over my shoulder toward the exit. “Should we…?”

“Start the interview?” Jos offers. “Sure thing. Milo, you mind waiting out here?”

“I thought I was supposed to learn about how to hire employees?” Milo challenges, more amused than frustrated, as they both make their way toward me.

“Meh. I got this one.” Jos grins.

“I’m not applying,” I interject.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s do this in the back, yeah?”

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