Everything he does is sexual.
I reach for my mug and take a massive gulp so my mouth doesn’t just hang open.
“I haven’t had this in a hot minute. Sydney, that’s the friend, has been salty with me and the guys lately and won’t bring them when she comes over. She just keeps shoving these health juices down our throats. Don’t tell her, but they are kind of growing on me.” He shoots me a cheeky smirk, and sparkles erupt in my chest. Aleks lifts his muffin in my direction. “Want to try some?”
“Sure.” I’m still drunk on the sparkles, so my mouth speaks without my brain processing.
Crap.
Why’d I say that? I don’t even like chocolate.
He uses a plastic fork to take a chunk off the muffin and holds it out to me. I tuck my hair behind my ear as I dip my head and take the bite.
The richness coats my tongue as the melted chocolate spreads. It’s not great. Way too much chocolate taste. Which is the whole point of a double chocolate muffin, so I can’t really get mad at it for that. The gooiness is sticking to my tastebuds, but I make sure to school my features.
“It’s pretty good,” I offer. I’m not going to rave about it; he will be able to tell I’m lying if I go that far.
I realize the fork hasn’t moved and look up. His deep green eyes are staring at me intently, or more specifically, my lips. They flicker up to my eyes briefly before settling back down. My body is starting to warm from the attention, and I can’t stop myself from quickly licking my lips.
“Damn.”
The word is soft as it falls from his lips.
I sit up straight, putting some distance between us, trying to calm my beating heart. I take a massive gulp of coffee, the nuttiness washing out the thick chocolate.
“So, tell me about yourself, Mr. Aleks Knight. What do you do?” My voice comes out a little breathy, and I stuff another piece of croissant into my mouth to keep from word vomiting.
He drops the fork on the table and shifts around. I catch him readjusting himself and drag my eyes away from his crotch before he sees me. It’s bad enough he probably knows I’m obsessed with his arms, the last thing I need is for him to think I’m also obsessed with his dick.
He takes a long sip of his coffee and clears his throat.
“I work with computers, which means I get to work from home most of the time. But I have a lot of late nights and long hours.”
“Really? How late?”
“I’ll be working past midnight a few days a week, even weekends.”
“Wow, that sucks.”
“What about you? What does Stevie Andwell get up to?”
“I’m an artist.”
I wait to see what his reaction is. Everyone is different. But more often than not, people look at me with thinly veiled sympathy. They don’t see it as a real job, just something I’m playing at. They think I’m childish and living out some lofty dream. “Oh, look at the little rich girl fiddling with her paints.” It’s annoying and belittling.
“Really? That’s awesome. You must be amazing at it. Do you have any pictures?”
My heart blooms, and I smile up at him, unable to stop myself.
“Yeah.” I pull out my phone and open the album I have photos of my art pieces saved in. I keep records of all my work, especially since once they are sold, I rarely get to see them again. Aleks takes my phone, and I watch his features as he scrolls through the images. My nerves begin to wiggle under my skin like worms as I wait to see what he thinks. Finally, he smiles, his dimple lighting up his face as he turns to me.
“These are phenomenal, Stevie. You’re really talented.”
“Thank you.” I feel like I have freaking heart-shaped eyes right now.
“How did you get started?”
I sink back against the couch and angle my body toward him.
“I was always a hands-on child, doodling and drawing all the time. It drove my nannies crazy because I would attack any surface I got my hands on. When I began taking art class at school, I fell in love with it. I started painting and sketching whenever I could. I’m a mixed media artist, so I don’t just stick to one form, but I tend to gravitate toward oil and graphite pieces. I adore working with charcoal, but those are more like passion projects because they don’t sell as well.
“I knew I wanted to go to college, so I majored in fine arts. It wasn’t exactly what my parents wanted, but it was a degree, and it ended up being really fun. It helped me realize that I needed to be an artist, no matter what it took.” I leave out the part about how it was actually my mother who was furious at my choice. She thought being an arts major was a waste of time. Pointless. That I should’ve been spending my time finding a husband and producing babies. Of course, her tune changed when I met Chase junior year.
I take a quick sip of my coffee before bringing my gaze back to him. “Honestly, though, I was worried about becoming a full-time artist. That it would put too much pressure on something I loved and turn it into something I hated.”
Something flashes across Aleks’ eyes, but it’s too fast for me to fully understand what it is, so I keep going.
“But when I started having my pieces featured in exhibitions and had strangers coming up to me telling me how much they loved my art, I knew I couldn’t back away from it. I want to share my art with the world, these small pieces of my soul. Sure, it hurts when people reject them because it’s like they are rejecting a part of me. But it’s worth the risk to find that one person who also resonates with my work. I sold my first piece when I was a senior in college, and I just haven’t stopped.”
I’m also lucky enough that I have an inheritance that allows me to pursue my passion. Sure, my pieces sell enough now that I could easily sustain myself without the cushion. But I could never have gotten to where I am without it.
“Wow. That’s amazing. Not everyone gets to follow their dreams.”
“What about you? Is what you do your dream job?”
His expression softens. “Yeah, it’s the ultimate dream. I couldn’t breathe without it.”
I smile up at him. “I feel that.”
“You know, it’s sexy to hear you talk about something you love.” He gives me a lopsided smile and places his hand over mine. It’s a little cold from holding his coffee, but I’m warming up with the heat currently working its way through my body.