“Oh.” She breathed as I handed her a print of my painting,The Vennel. It was an iconic spot in Edinburgh. Many a photograph had been taken of the castle from the top of the Vennel Steps because of the way the castle towered over the old buildings, the Victorian lamppost situated in just the right place.
Last winter, there was frost in the air and on the ground. You could see it sparkling on the lamppost glass. As the sun was setting, I’d started taking photographs at different angles. A couple, oblivious to me, passed. She had stopped at the top of the steps to take a photograph while he ventured down the first flight. He turned back to her and held out his hand to help her down the icy staircase. I’d taken the photograph of them and captured the adoration on his face when he looked at her.
Afterward, I’d returned to the studio and began work on a painting that attempted to catch the romance in one of Edinburgh’s most romantic spots. It was one of my bestsellers.
“How much?” Lily looked up at me.
“Twenty-five pounds.”
“Done.”
Realizing she wanted to buy it, I smiled so big, I probably looked insane. “You’re not buying a thing.” I pulled another copy from the stack and handed it to her. “It’s yours.”
“I have to pay for it.”
“Consider it a wage for helping me this morning.”
“Really?” Her hazel eyes were bright with joy.
Well, that could get addictive quickly, I thought with slight alarm. Because in that moment, making Lily happy felt like a bit of a kink.
Bloody hell.
I looked away. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” She wrapped an arm around me, giving me a squeeze.
Incapable of ignoring said gesture, I pulled her more tightly into my side and kissed the side of her head. “You’re welcome.”
A few seconds later, after she’d set aside the print like it was made of bone china, Lily opined, “I think you should seriously consider this as a career, Sebastian. I don’t know if you realize how talented you are. How you look at a canvas and imagine what you then bring to life by flicking and scraping paint around on it … it’s kind of genius.”
Uncomfortable with the subject, I replied quietly, “I appreciate that. I do. But I’m going to be a civil engineer.”
“Sebastian—”
“Lily.” I cut her off and then bit back my impatience because she didn’t deserve it. My expression softened. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Why?” she pushed.
“Isn’t it enough that I don’t want to talk about it?”
My friend considered this, then ominously replied, “For now.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LILY
For how strangely attached to him and vulnerable I felt, I might as well have slept with Sebastian last night. Perhaps it was the act of sharing a bed with him, or the fact that he’d let me into this private world no one knew about. Whatever the reason, once we’d finished packaging up the prints and dropped them off at the post office, I didn’t want to part from him yet.
“What are you up to for the rest of the day, Thorne?” I asked as we ambled in the direction of my flat.
His long strides were edging mine out and I smiled at the sight of the romantasy paperback tucked into his back pocket.
“Other than going home for a quick shower and change, I don’t really have plans. I suppose I should do my coursework for my Research Methods class.”
I nodded, not wanting to distract him from schoolwork. In fact, I should probably work on my Science of Close Relationships essay. However, I knew by how restless I felt that I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.
“What are your plans?” Sebastian asked.
