When I finally break the kiss, I step back and take her in. Her body is so much smaller than mine, her cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue, and her eyes are wide, glassy, and filled with need. And I know that feeling matches my own.
“I’m . . .” I don’t know what to say to her. Do I apologize for kissing her? Or do I straighten and walk away?
“I wasn’t expecting that.” Her voice is husky, and I can’t help but smile at her. She’s so alluring when her guard is down. She looks so free, allowing whatever she’s feeling to take hold of her.
“Neither was I,” I tell her honestly. And it’s the truth because I was certain she was going to slap me. Come to think of it, even if she did, I would’ve kissed her because it’s her fire that makes me want her even more.
“Was that . . .? I mean, did you mean to do that?”
Her question makes me chuckle. It’s a strange thing to ask someone who’s just kissed you, but there’s a quirkiness to her that makes me grin like a fucking teenager without any responsibilities or heartache.
“Of course I did,” I tell her. “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?”
Nea shrugs, then her cheeks darken even more. I love watching her shyness take over, and I take a step toward her. She doesn’t move away, so I cup her face in my hand and swipe my thumb over her cheek— the softness causing my mind to run wild with thoughts of the rest of her silken skin.
I tried to stay away from her, but every time she got to work, I would go to the office just to greet her. Not because I wanted to obey her rules, but because I wanted to see her. To feel inspiration hit me like a fucking wrecking ball to the heart.
“Nea.” Her name falls from my lips as a plea. “You’re the first person to see my art and understand it.” Her eyes are wide, looking up at me like I’m something more to her than just her boss. I can’t deny, there’s definitely tension between us. But I don’t want to take advantage of her and make her think that her job could be on the line if she denied me.
“Your art speaks volumes, just like your eyes,” she tells me earnestly. The rawness of the truth laced on every word. She’s right. “You’re one of the most broken men I’ve ever met.”
“Life breaks us all.”
“But we talk about it. We allow people in.”
“Do you allow people in?” I challenge her, and that’s when she finally steps back. It looks as if I’ve just slapped her with my words, and my chest aches at the thought of me hurting her. “I didn’t mean—”
“I’ll go get ready.” Nea turns and leaves me staring after her. I should follow her and talk to her, apologize, but I’ve never been good at showing emotion. As resignation takes hold of me, I head to my bedroom to get changed. The event will start in an hour, and I’d like to make sure I’m there to greet the who’s who of society in New Orleans. Hopefully, Eli and Kate will be here to break the tension that’s become so apparent between Nea and me.
I’ve fucked it up once again.
Shay would be the one to tell me that I broke everything I touched. Just like I broke her, but she doesn’t realize what she did to me. One thing Nea was right about was that I don’t allow people in. I’ve never been an easy person to be around and, over the years, it’s only become worse.
Shrugging on my suit jacket, I look in the mirror to ensure my tie is straight. The black suit, white shirt, with the deep purple tie, was meant to show Nea that I can be frivolous with color. Even if it’s only in my art or my tie. But she’s angry. She’s probably going to avoid me all night.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I pick it up to see Eli’s name flashing at me.
“What’s up?” I answer.
“We’re running late. Be there at about seven-thirty,” he tells me. “Can you behave until we arrive?”
I want to tell him that I’ve already kissed her. That I’ve already fucked it up, but I don’t. “You know me, Eli,” I say instead. “I’m always the gentleman.” This causes him to laugh out loud because he knows I’m talking bullshit.
“Yeah, sure. See you soon,” he says before hanging up.
Hopefully, he can help me fix this shit I’ve caused.
Chapter 13
Nea
In the office, I take long, deep breaths. My lips are still tingling from the kiss. The heat of him, the taste of him, is all over me. I feel it right down to my bones. I’ve never had a reaction like that to someone before. Yes, he is hot, he’s gorgeous, but I can see that the pain is holding him back. And I don’t know if I can put myself through that just to feel pleasure for one night. If that’s even what he’s wanting.
The desire from his kiss was apparent. He wants me just like I want him. But is that enough to fight the ghosts that he’s holding onto? Is it enough to fight the demons that so clearly plague him daily?
I can’t even make sense of the paintings. The purple and black, the colors that were so passionately thrown onto the canvas and melded as if two lovers were entwined together. There was something visceral about it.
Sighing, I pull open the zipper to find the dress he bought for me to wear. And when I pull it out, I can’t stop the gasp that tumbles from me. I had seen
