“Will you tell me about your father, then?” I asked.

“If it gets you talking, sure.”

I held her gaze, and I drew in a deep breath. Then I relinquished myself into her care. There was something magnetizing and comforting about her presence that made me instinctively want to open up to her. It was like I had known her for much longer than a few days.

“I saw her being rolled out of our home on a gurney one day as I was coming home from school. She had slit her wrists in her bed that morning.”

Paige inhaled sharply. “Zach, I am so sorry.”

I shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m not mad at her. Not with the life she lived.”

“What kind of life did she live?” Paige asked gently.

“A shitty one. I mean, it was full of money and luxury, but it was fucking miserable thanks to my father. She tried her best with me. Tried to turn things around when she realized how bad they were getting for me.”

“With your father?”

I nodded. “Yeah. My dad was a dick then, and I’m sure he’s a dick now. Cocky. Manipulative. An angry drunk.”

“I know the kind,” she said.

“Was your father one of them?” I asked.

“No, I just know the kind from afar.”

I wasn’t sure what that comment meant, but I let it slide. I wanted to know more about her family since she now knew the two biggest secrets about mine.

“Where are your parents?” I asked.

“Dead,” she said. “At least, I think so.”

“What do you mean?”

She took a long sip of wine. “I’m an orphan. Grew up in the foster care system. All I know is my mother was a junkie, and my father left me at the hospital to be claimed. When no one came for me, the state stepped in.”

“Which state?” I asked.

“Washington,” she said.

“So, you’re from Washington.”

“Seattle, yes.”

I winced at the mention of that fucking city as I grabbed my beer. “Have you always lived in Seattle?”

“No, I grew up in Spokane. Went to college in Seattle and just stayed.”

“Did you enjoy Spokane?”

“As much as an orphan bouncing around from home to home could,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” she said.

We ate for a little while longer in silence. The tension was thick between us, and not in the good way. I wanted to get to know her more. I wanted to know what she liked and disliked. I wanted to know how long she would be in town and what possessed her to vacation in a random town like Brookings.

But I also wanted to diffuse the tension between us, and I knew just how to do that.

“I have something for you,” I said.

“What?” Paige asked.

“A present. I picked something up for you.”

“A present?” she asked. “You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t get you anything.”

“It’s just a little something. Hold on a second.” I got up from the table.

“No,” she called after me. “Let me get you something first, and then we can exchange gifts.”

“This isn’t anything you have to repay,” I said.

“I don’t like being indebted to others.”

I walked behind my couch, where her gift was hiding out of sight. “Relax. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Zach.”

“Would you just close your damn eyes?”

She huffed with frustration, but she closed her eyes nonetheless. Shaking my head, I pulled the two-pack of painting canvases out and walked back to the table. Her eyes remained closed, but her face followed the sound of my steps before I sat back down in front of her.

“Ready?” I asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Open your eyes.”

It took her vision a second to readjust, but when it did, her lips parted in shock, and her eyes widened. She got up from her chair, immediately taking the canvases from my hands.

“They’re painting canvases.”

I nodded. “They are. I saw them at the store today, and they made me think of you. I don’t know anything about them, but the person at the store said these were the best kind to have.”

“They’re wonderful,” she said breathlessly.

The smile that crept across her face warmed me as I stood from the table. “If you don’t like them, I still have the receipt.”

“I love them, Zach,” she said, smiling. “Thank you. You have no idea how perfect they are.”

The way her eyes sparkled as she looked at her present told me she’d been downplaying how much she loved painting. It wasn’t just something she did in college. It wasn’t just a hobby. It was what she lived and breathed. It was what got her up in the mornings and pushed her through her day. I could see the passion dripping from her eyes.

She placed the canvases down at her feet and threw her arms around my neck. I was surprised by her outpouring of physical affection, but I wasn’t going to turn it down.

Her body vibrated with excitement as she hugged me close. “Holy hell, Zach. Thank you so much.”

She pulled back from the hug, and I expected her hands to drop, but instead, our lips connected. It was a quick motion that took my breath away, and my hands sank to the small of her back as her lips pressed into mine. My open eyes watched her as her arms tightened around my neck, pulling my body closer.

I could feel my cock growing behind my jeans. I decided to take a chance and lapped my tongue across her lips. At first, she didn’t budge, and I figured she would pull back away from the kiss soon enough. Instead, she stood up into her tip toes and pressed her lips to mine more passionately. My hands gripped her hips, and her tits pressed into my chest. Her body shook in my arms.

I took a step toward her, my leg sliding in between hers, and I slowly pressed her against the kitchen counter.

Her body felt so good underneath mine. Her back bowed, and our hips pressed together. That was when I felt her tongue. It swiped across my lips, and I opened myself for her, lapping up her sweetness as the food grew cold on the table. Her hands dug into the meat of my shoulders before they trailed down my muscles. I wanted to feel every part of her before she shut me down.

But she never did. She ran her hands up my shirt and began tugging it up my body.

So, I followed her lead.