Page 60 of Bad Influence
A part of me wants to shrivel up and I don’t let it. With all the confidence I don’t feel, I nod. “This is what I’m going to wear. Is that a problem?”
Killian’s heated gaze meets mine. “Fuck yes, it’s a problem. You can’t do this to me.”
I tilt my head curiously. “What am I doing to you?”
“You’re going to sit in front of me like that and you expect me to do nothing but paint? I’m not even sure I’ll be able to focus enough to paint.” He sounds almost angry when he says this.
My lips tilt up into a coy smile. All the doubts and the questions disappear. I move further into the room, my bare feet padding softly on the floor until I’m standing directly in front of him.
His jaw is clenched tightly, veins popping up in his neck and through his arms because of his clenched fists. Slowly, I reach upand set my hand gently on his cheek. Instantly, his jaw relaxes and he breathes out, his head tilting slightly into my touch.
“Who says you can’t do anything?” I ask in a quiet whisper.
His eyes flare with heat and this time there’s no mistaking the desire in them.
“Caroline,” he growls. He thrusts his hand into the back of my hair, pulling me closer. Our lips hover inches from each other. “Don’t push me. You’re not ready for that.”
“How do you know?” I demand.
“You need time to heal, butterfly,” he whispers, his eyes focused on my lips. If I tilt my head forward a little, I can kiss him. His response to my outfit made something open inside me. Something I’ve buried deep.
“I’m not injured,” I protest.
He smiles softly, his eyes leaving my lips and moving up to mine.
“You’re making too many sudden changes, butterfly. I know you want to put everything behind you and take every opportunity. I don’t want you to regret anything.”
I hear his concern and also what he’s not saying. He doesn’t want me to regrethim.As if I ever can.
“I think you worry about me more than anyone else,” I say.
“Somebody has to,” he says.
Tilting my head, I lean forward and softly press my lips against his cheek.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” I say. “But I wouldn’t have regretted this.”
He eases his fingers out of my hair and releases me. “Maybe I need more time.”
I nod in acceptance. I might have barely been in the relationship, but we can’t deny the fact that I was engaged to his brother. He didn’t even want me living in his apartment let alone…whatever this is now.
“Where do you want me?” I ask, changing the subject. I do it for my benefit as much as his. I don’t want to wonder if he justdoesn’t want me enough. I’m used to being an afterthought, but I’d rather not be with him.
Pushing a hand through his hair, Killian breathes out. He walks to a chaise which is set up against the wall and pulls it to where he wants it in front of his easel.
It’s a blue velvet chaise, which is going to mix perfectly with the red of my robe. I walk towards it softly and Killian grabs my hand.
“Wait,” he says. “Just give me a minute.”
I nod, and he leaves the room, giving me the chance to look around. The windows here have the same view as the living room; they are high and set deep into the wall. Canvases line the wall, some blank, some with paint on it that looks like Killian was just trying to scribble. They’re also canvases which are facing towards the wall. There are drops of paint here and there on the floor.
Killian walks back into the room and asks me to turn around, which I do.
“I’m going to pull your hair up,” he says.
His fingers brush against my bare neck and shoulders as he grabs my hair and pulls it up. He deliberately lets some strands fall messily out of the bun.
“You’re not going to showcase these, right?” I voice the thought I’ve been worried about.
