Page 92 of The Muse
By the time I get out, she’s at the front of the car, reaching for my hand.
“What is thethisthat you love?” I ask as we make our way to the front door.
“Everything with you feels easy. Life is simple, the way it should be. Eating pizza in the car is a fantastic day. Being alone for a few hours feels like winning the lottery.”
“The lottery?” Before I open the door, I pull her into me. Then I slide my thumb along the scar on her lip. “Well, at least the lottery is real. I’m pretty sure you’re a dream.”
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
I grin, loving how fucking alive I feel when she whispers those two words.
“Soon,” I say, reaching past her to unlock the door.
“You’re such a tease, Flynn Morley.”
We take off our shoes in the entry.
“I know you want to find a guest room and immediately get naked,” I say.
She rolls her eyes, but her grin tells the truth.
“But I want you to do something for me first,” I say, guiding her up the stairs.
“It’s not sex? But is it sexual?” she asks.
“It is to me.”
“Now I’m intrigued. Wait.” She pulls on my hand to stop me from going into Callie’s bedroom. “No. We’re not doing anything kinky in her room. In fact, I don’t think we should be in her room if she’s not here.”
“Fine, then you stay here.”
“Flynn!” She protests, but I release her hand and disappear around the corner.
“What are you doing?” she asks, poking her head around the door, whispering like the Rawlings can hear us.
I pull the cello from the top shelf in the closet. “I want you to play this for me,” I say, meeting her at the door. “Naked.”
Her gaze snaps from the cello to me. Eyes wide.
I chuckle, nodding for her to head back down the hallway. “Kidding.”
“Why do you want me to play for you? I doubt cello music has ever been your favorite.” She leads the way down the stairs.
“You’re my favorite person, June. So everything you do becomes my favorite thing.”
She turns at the bottom of the stairs, lips pressed together, eyes narrowed. “That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Really?”
She nods several times.
“Huh. That’s crazy.” I lead her to the formal living room that overlooks the back of the house and the lake. The uplights at the base of their trees make everything look like a magical garden.
June looks around the room, then pulls a gold and white upholstered chair toward the middle. I hand her the cello case before sitting on the love seat by the window.
“What shall I play for you?” she asks, tossing me a flirty grin.
“Something that makes you think of us.”
