Page 24 of Takedown Artist
But is it only the sex?
“Oh yeah. I remember,” Arlo says with a small smile.
He squeezes my shoulder, then goes back to reading his book. That’s one of the best things about Arlo. He doesn’t push. That also means I’ve got to push myself.
Well, if Troy can do it, I can too.
“Ready to go home?” Troy asks from the office door.
I’m beyond ready. I’ve been on pins and needles all day long. Thanks to my discussion with Arlo, I’ve decided tonight is the night. Best-case scenario, I get laid. Worst-case scenario, I spend the night drawing instead. It’s all good. I’ve got this.
The ride home is tense, and I know that’s all me, but I can’t seem to sit still. Troy’s probably gonna kick me out of the truck if I change the radio station one more time, and I can’t keep my legs from jiggling. I just need to do this. Now. So I can finally relax.
“We should have sex tonight,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant and completely failing.
Awkward much?
Troy’s head jerks up, and then he’s staring at me with wide, shocked eyes. He takes a breath, lets it out.
“Okay. I’d like that.”
“Cool. Good. It’s settled then.”
Why did I think that would help? If anything, I’m even more keyed up. Troy keeps giving me the side-eye as if he’s verifying I’m still here with him. Not like I can leave while the truck’s moving.
Because we’re both excellent at being awkward, we sit in silence for the rest of the ride home. Thankfully, it’s only a few minutes. Jesus, how do normal people do this?
James is out watering his flowerbeds when we pull into the driveway. He waves before calling Troy over. Sweet relief.
I wave to both of them, then head inside. I need a hot shower and a few minutes alone.
Showers have to be one of the best things in life. You go in all messed up and come out clean and refreshed. As if the hot water washes away everything, and then you can start again with a clean slate.
Stepping under the steamy water is bliss. I stand there, soaking in the warmth and trying not to think too hard about what’s going to happen later. My body’s humming with nervous anticipation, and I’m half hard thinking about what might happen tonight. I grab Troy’s body wash by mistake, and its spicy, masculine scent doesn’t help my dick situation.
When I come out refreshed and feeling new again, Troy is in the kitchen working on dinner. The smell of garlic and onion cooking in butter hits me, and my stomach responds accordingly.
He’s only wearing gray sweatpants, and his back still has beads of water running down it from his shower. I pause to admire him because, damn, that man is hot and we’re about to get naked together. Between that amazing ass and those sculpted thighs, I’m practically drooling.
Relax. Dinner first.
Grabbing my sketchbook as a distraction, I open it up to the drawing from earlier today. Nox is preparing for a big battle against another demon. They used to be friends, so it’s going to be an angsty situation, and he needs some kind of advantage that I haven’t figured out yet. I do some random background drawing while I figure out how to handle it.
Troy’s ass is far more interesting than my sketchbook, apparently, because I can’t seem to keep my eyes off it. He catches me staring once or twice and gives me a knowing smirk. I don’t hate it. I’m not even paying attention to what I’m drawing.My hand is moving on autopilot. I’m just blatantly checking him out and possibly even flirting a little.
When Troy comes over to set the table, he whispers in my ear, giving me the best shivers.
“See something you like?”
“You know I do,” I reply, biting my lower lip.
He just smirks and walks back into the kitchen. I don’t even know what’s for dinner, and I’m not even sure I care. I’m going to be far too turned on to eat if I don’t distract myself for a bit.
I bring my focus back to my drawing. Fuck. Looks like Nox has a partner now, and he appears to be eerily similar to Troy. I’ve just sketched the outline, but there he is, standing behind Nox, solid and steady. My artist’s brain can’t leave it like this, even though my heart is beating wildly and there’s a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I fill in some texture and muscular detail, and outline the shape of his weapon. Of course, my brain goes right for a dick joke. I resist, but I do take a minute to appreciate Troy’s gray sweatpants. They’re the gift that keeps on giving.
Troy brings us dinner just as I add the last detail to the new weapon, setting a plate full of food next to me while I finish sketching.
The minute he sees it, everything shifts. He goes stiff beside me, before whirling around and retreating to the kitchen.
