Page 164 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“Let me show you.” He rolls over, getting to his feet and waving his arm at the three giant canvases leaning against the opposite wall.

My jaw drops. “Holy shit.”

With a dry laugh, he squeezes the back of his neck shyly, his bare ass on full display as he inspects his work.

“You should put some clothes on,” I note.

He looks over his shoulder and finds my attention glued to those gorgeous globes of beauty. “There a problem with my ass?”

“There is if you want me to admire the paintings instead of the other work of art in the room.”

Rolling his eyes, he turns around, offers his hand to me, and I take it. In an instant, I’m on my feet with my back pressed to his chest––and his growing erection––as he rests his chin on top of my head and sways us back and forth, moving us around to face his art.

“Here. Now, you’re not distracted.”

“Debatable,” I mumble, but I breathe deep and inspect his work nonetheless. The paintings are raw. And angry. Black and white are splattered across the canvas in thick, heavy strokes, but there’s so much emotion in them, I can’t help the awe accompanying the rage.

“I’m so sorry, Milo,” I whisper.

“You’ve already apologized.”

“Yet, I feel like it won’t ever be enough.”

He drops his forehead to the back of my head and breathes me in. Like I’m his lifeline when we both know it’s the other way around.

“It’s enough,” he promises. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So, what do you think?” he murmurs. “Other than the angry rawness of it all…do you like it?”

“You mean, the pictures belonging at the Met?” I ask, appreciating them in all their glory.

“Yeah.”

I shrug and peek over my shoulder at him. “Meh.”

Digging his fingers into my sides, he tickles the crap out of me and makes my legs practically give out until it’s only his strong grasp keeping me from becoming a squirming mess on the floor.

“Stop!” I laugh. “Stop! I give up! They’re gorgeous, okay? Raw and painful. But beautiful.”

He stops tickling me, and I take advantage by turning around and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“You think they’re beautiful?” he asks, his voice vulnerable.

I nod and tug him closer to me before rising onto my tiptoes. “I think they’re perfect. Just like you.”

“You think?”

“Nope. I know.”

The End

Epilogue

Maddie

“So…where are you taking us?” I ask as I look out the window. The road has been winding for a solid two minutes since we turned off the main street, fanning my curiosity even more than when he said he had a surprise for Penny and me. Trees line both sides, and the sun is shining high in the sky. It’s beautiful.

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