Page 76 of Pink Ink

Well, he probably doesn’t think it is. It probably wasn’t his intention either. Nor is it in any realm of likelihood that he’d be doing that kind of thing with his student. But this feels pretty textbook date material.

My throat tightens. He doesn’t know how much this means to me.

“Why?” I step inside when he holds the door open for me.

The walls are emerald green set against cherry wooden floor. There’s a feature wall showcasing a large contemporary piece, and on the opposite end of the foyer, there’s a set of glass doors bracketed between sculptures of Athena and Hephaestus.

At only two stories, Halenbeek Museum isn’t large. Frankly, I didn’t know it existed until three seconds ago.

“Do you have art here?” I ask before he answers my first question.

Maddox nods at the woman behind the counter and continues through the automatic doors without waiting for me to follow. My boots squeak against the wooden floors as I race to catch up with him.

“Don’t you need to pay first?” I stumble, throwing glances back at the receptionist. Capitalism will fall before a millionaire makes their privately owned museum free.

“My painting that was here was recently relocated back to Montana, so not anymore. And to your third question, no, I know the owner,” he answers before I make it beside him. Soft murmuring filters down the hallway, getting louder the closer we get to the juncture at the very end. “And the why? You can call it a university field trip.”

I roll my eyes. “I swear, you better not be pulling theeverything is a learning opportunitycard on me. I’ve done enough learning to last a lifetime. My brain is at full capacity.”

“Is that any different from usual?”

I whip my head his way, ready to feed the man his own scrotum. But the wild grin he flashes my way makes me playfully hit his arm instead. “I’ll have you know that I won my third-grade spelling bee.”

“I’m not sure if it counts if only two people were participating,” he teases even though he doesn’t know that. “But I’m proud of you, love.”

I’m about to fire off a retort when he wraps his arm around my waist and leads me left when we hit the end of the hallway. Sparks fly across my skin. The sensation seems to last a lifetime, when he couldn’t have held me for longer than three beats.

“You can’t touch me,” I breathe out.

Maddox halts us both, rounding on me to invade my space. “It appears we have a different opinion on the definition oftouching.” His hand drops to my hip, grabbing my flesh through layers of clothing. He brushes the back of his fingers along my jaw. “This is nothing compared to what I want to do to you.”

“You can’t.” The words come out barely above a whisper.

“Tell me, is it that I can’t touch you, or you don’t want me to?”

“Youcan’t,” I repeat like a broken record.

His cologne washes over me and makes it hard to breathe. Maddox steps away, taking his warmth with him. If I don’t get it together, I’m going to embarrass myself and make everything worse than it is. I move through the open space, observing the art alongside him, shaking off the desire spiking through my veins.

“I could paint a better portrait than that when I was four,” he whispers, breaking our silence. “I could do it in the dark now, and it would still look better.”

“I’ve seen preschoolers with more talent,” I agree.

Maddox nods at the next painting. “Miss Sinaga, take a picture and print it out.”

“Why?”

“To ensure you never forget what inconsistent tones look like. It’s a novice mistake.”

I bark out a laugh and slap a hand over my mouth when people look my way. “You’re so mean.”

He shrugs, and we move to the next painting of an old man with a golden chalice. “I’ve been called worse.”

This is too easy. Being here.

With him.

How long has it been since I’ve been able to do this with someone? I love Kimi, of course, but Maddox gets it, and it’s the most at ease I’ve felt all year. Actually, it’s probably the most fun I’ve had as well.