His arms were outstretched, both of his hands relaxed, inviting me into his embrace. No anger on his face. No grimace. Just worry and love.
I fell into his arms, guiding myself through a breathing exercise. He mumbled from above, chuckling to himself. I could feel it from his chest. “I finally burned somethingaround you again. Let’s just call the pizza place for delivery, yeah?”
I couldn’t help the smile on my face. It was big and happy, and so content I could’ve cried. Yeah, he’d burned our steak dinner, but he was here, and he was mine.
We were going to be just fine.
Chapter Thirty-One
We had somany kinds of paints, pencils, and four packs of three different-sized canvases. Going out had gotten easier now that I wasn’t completely terrified Jude was going to pop up randomly and harass us. I still wouldn’t go alone, but I was hoping that, one day, I’d feel safe enough to handle an encounter myself. The day I felt strong enough to handle an interaction with him in public, I’d be able to handle anything. So, until then, Crescent or Sarah went with me.
Crescent had gone a bit overboard, spoiling me as much as he could afford to. It always felt odd, letting him spend his hard-earned money on me. He’d told me to think of it as payback for all the years I’d cooked for him or dealt with his annoying shit as kids.
I didn’t need to be paid back for any of that, but I couldsee it made him happy. Happy Crescent made me happy, so I didn’t mind.
We’d even bought hooks that stuck to the wall so we could hang my paintings up in our bedroom. There were finished and unfinished ones lining the base of the walls, proudly on display since Crescent refused to cover them up with each other. It would’ve saved space, though.
I set down the final bottle of paint, a gorgeous forest-green color that matched nicely with the other greens I had. It was the last of the final batch to come out of our shopping bags, all of them now lined up neatly in a plastic organizer. There was a shuffle behind me, catching my attention enough to make me turn around. Crescent was stepping down the ladder, another hook placed squarely on the wall.
When he looked up, his hair fell against his shoulders, and the light cradled his jawline perfectly. My eyes went straight to it, and to his skin, which was almost glowing before me. I tilted my head, watching him roll his shoulders. Squinting, I noticed the small blemishes on his cheeks, one of them a small cut from his razor. I smiled to myself, getting lost in the way his eyebrows scrunched in concentration. He’d been so much happier since seeing his new therapist, Mark. The real change began when he started his meds, though. He was sleeping better, and he wasn’t as tense... I couldn't believe the difference, or that I’d never noticed how miserable he was before.
An idea came to mind, one that took precedence over any painting I’d planned to create. “Hey, sweetheart, is there anything in the world you wouldn’t do for me?”
He turned toward me, confusion deepening his brow lines. “Um, not really. Why?”
“I want to paint you.”
“Okay…” He said it slowly, drawing out the word. “You’ve painted me before.”
Shaking my head, I walked up to him, reaching out to push a piece of his hair behind his ear. “No, like, I want you to pose for me and I want to paint you like that.”
A red tint started on his upper cheekbones. “Oh. Wow. Yeah, okay, I could do that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I mean, it isn’t like it’d be difficult.”
“You’d have to stay still for a long time.”
“That’s fine. My new meds have been helping a lot, but I can just have my earbuds on standby.”
“Can we do it now?”
“Now?”
I nodded, the image of him lying there, baring his body and soul for me to put to canvas running through my mind. “Please?”
He looked down at his shirt, and then up at the hook he’d just placed on the wall. “Yeah, baby. We can do it now. Where do you want me to sit?”
My grin was wide and stretched, a giddy giggle rushing out of me. “Can you grab my easel and a tarp? I want to set up in the living room.”
“Fuck, you’re adorable.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Sure. I’ll help you set everything up.”
After moving the coffee table, laying the tarp down, setting up the easel and canvas, and moving all of my art supplies to the living room, I stood there, taking it all in. It was a nice change of scenery, really.
Everything was set up right in front of the couch. “Okay, can you lie down on the couch?”
Crescent walked over, lying straight on his back. His arms were stiff beside him, his eyes glued to the ceiling.
