Page 45 of Deny Me

“Yes, you are.”

“No. I’m. Not.”

He shook his head, smiling. “So sassy,” he said, turning to walk away. “You want the Hawaiian? I’ll order in the bedroom so you have some peace and quiet to work.”

“Okay.” I watched him walk into my room before I moved to the couch, grabbing my sketch pad and settling into the corner seat of my sectional. When he came out, he was wearing his jeans and moved to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

I watched him the whole time. Jameson had been to my place many times. He was comfortable there. But seeing him this time was different. He wasn’t there as my best friend’s brother; he was there as Jameson, the man I slept with, the man I was going to try and have my first relationship with.

Oddly enough, the thought didn’t feel uncomfortable that time. It, instead, brought a smile to my face. But when he turned to me, I fought it and looked back at the paper in front of me so I didn’t give him too big of an ego about it. He plopped down next to me and brought up his phone, getting some of his own work done.

I was worried having him there would inhibit my ability to get my design down, but surprisingly it came faster than ever before. Just as I was finishing up the final touches, he looked over. “That’s fucking amazing. I’m always in awe of your ability to create.”

Jameson blew me away with his simple comments. He didn’t say them to gain anything. They came out honestly, and that was why they meant so much more. I had never been with a man who didn’t look at my designing like some kind of cute hobby. Having him openly admit my talent was a breath of fresh air.

“Thank you.”

I wanted to say more to let him know how much it meant to me, but the knock at the door ruined the moment. He paid for the pizza and got everything ready so I could put the finishing touches down.

“You done?” he asked, setting the plates on the coffee table.

“Yup.” I sat back, letting the feeling of accomplishment wash over me. Getting a design out on paper always felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I had released it into the world rather than carrying it around with me. “You want to watch a movie?”

“You sure? I don’t want to stop you from your work.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” It felt good to have the reassurance that he wouldn’t get in the way of my job. That was one of my biggest worries about a relationship. But as I curled up in the crook of his arm, my biggest concern was that he would move from his spot on the couch before I was ready to let him leave.

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