Last time I was here at Whynot Paint, it looked a lot different—not nearly as lively or organized as it was now. In fact, I wasn’t sure anyone ever ran art classes out of this place before. If I remembered right, Mr. Whynot used it as his studio and sold his work, and that was about it.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, yanking my forearm away from the little old lady. “Don’t touch me.”
She scoffed. “Well then. Not very nice, are you?”
I bit my tongue. No, I wasn’t verynicewhen strangers randomly grabbed me, little old lady or not. I’d been in too many situations where someone would touch me inappropriately or without my consent simply because of my job, which was why I valued my reputation as a total dick. It was an easy mask to pull on.
I ignored her glower and shuffled to the empty table at the very back of the classroom. Taking an art class was the last thing I imagined myself doing this morning, but I'd needed a break from the PT exercises that’d been sent over to me.
Right before my great escape from the best career I’d probably ever have, I’d gone to the doctora lot. Countless appointments, countless recommendations, and ultimately a prescription—give your body a break.
I hated that. For years, I’d been the guy who was up every morning working out for hours. My diet was regimented. My life was a bunch of bottles of supplements, numbers on charts, and pushing myself to be perfect.
Now, I was broken in more ways than one.
At least I’d forced myself to venture out of the house I’d rented a couple blocks over. As much as I didn’t want to interact with people right now, I had to admit it felt good to be out.
The man that’d interrupted us earlier followed Avery into the classroom.Mateo. I tried to keep my eyes off him, but it was impossible to. The charm that dripped from his body mademy head spin as he sat down next to me. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he watched Avery with a certain attentiveness that made me wonder . . .
Were those two together? He’d certainly been pretty fucking friendly with her. Once again, my thoughts went where they shouldn’t. The idea of those two together rolling around in bed was so unbelievably inappropriate, and yet I could not get it out of my perverted mind.
I needed to think of quite literally anything else.
I’d been in Texas for a week now. In Whynot for three days. Reluctantly, I’d turned my phone back on and the amount of notifications had only increased. My abrupt announcement had tipped everything upside down, and I had over athousandunread text messages.
I didn’t know that many people. At least, I didn’t think I did. My phone said otherwise, though.
My social media accounts were flooded. My voicemails were maxed out. Every time I saw the little red number reminding me of how many unread messages there were, panic bloomed in my chest, and something in me felt dangerously close to breaking. Like my body, my life was made of glass right now.
It was just a break. Right? Whatever was wrong with me would pass. I’d had similar things occur over the years, although nothing at this level. But it made no fucking sense.
Pressure never got to me. Ever. So why now?
All I knew was I was only reading messages from my agent. Robin was in full-on crisis mode, but had given me six weeks to get my mind straightened out.
Six weeks.
Then she said we’d talk.
No one knew where I was aside from her, and it’d stay that way until I was ready to come out of hiding in five weeks.
Avery cleared her throat as she took her place at the front of the room. “Good morning, everyone. We’re doing something new today. And lucky for us, we have the best firefighter in town to keep watch.”
All heads swiveled to Mateo, who pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, completely at ease. My brain short-circuited as I studied him, trying to keep my attention off his mustache.
Damn, that was a fine mustache.
I liked kissing men with mustaches.
Get the fuck out of your horny head, Rayburn.
I tore my attention from him and refocused on Avery, as if that were any better. Whatever I’d said to piss her off earlier was clearly far from her mind as she gathered supplies, her dimples flashing as she spoke. I still wondered why her face was blue, but honestly? It kind of suited her. And the fact that no one seemed to really be fazed by it said something about her.
Somethingthat piqued my interest.
“Today, we’re trying out fumage.”
“I don’t smoke pot,” one of the older women called from the front.
