Brant
I chuckle and stuff my phone back into my pocket.
This girl is a piece of work.
An interesting piece of work.
An interesting hot piece of work.
An interesting hot, sassy piece of work I’d like to… Nope. Not going there.
There will be no doing anything with any hot pieces of work no matter how much I want to find out what all that controlled seriousness would turn into.
Under me.
In bed.
While I stroke my hand through all those thick waves of hair and I… goddammit.
When I turn around again I spot the empty canvas on the easel and take a deep breath. It’s been like this for days. Empty and white. I have zero inspiration and it’s frustrating as fuck. This is the one thing that has never let me down and I’m getting worried. The final exhibition is only a couple months away and I have no idea what I’m doing. Maybe sketching in my journal will help.
I throw my ass down on the bed and grab the journal that’s nearly falling apart at the seams. I start by drawing a few random strokes, just letting my hand lead me in making these haphazard lines become a shape. As my hand moves across the page I let my mind wander and it goes back to the same place it’s been since this morning. Abby.
I have no idea what this girl’s deal is. She was cold and indifferent and I’m not sure a girl has ever reacted to me that way. Anger I get. Attraction I get. But this indifference and mild disgust I’m getting from her is baffling. She’s also the most anal person I’ve ever come across. The stick up her ass must be huge. I wonder who put it there? I’d like to put something in her butt, alright. What? It’s a nice fucking ass. Firm and supple but not too small. The perfect kind of butt to take a solid spanking before I grab a handful to tug her into me.
Jesus.
I look down at the page to see what I’ve drawn. Oh, this is just perfect. A woman’s silhouette from behind with a firm and supple butt, perfectly sized for a nice spanking. I shake my head and adjust the semi in my jeans. This isn’t happening today. I throw the journal onto the bed and get up. May as well get the other things on my list checked off. Starting with shopping for groceries. How domestic. Nan would be proud.
Sighing, I tug open the fridge to gain some kind of clue as to what she likes to eat. I’m shocked to find it nearly empty and wonder if she’s been starving. There is only a carton of soy milk next to couple of other boxes. I have no idea what they are so I pick one up and my eyes grow big with shock. Insulin. She’s diabetic? I thought that only happened to old people. I place the box on top of the others and close the fridge. Flicking my thumb over my phone to wake it up I go to my browser. I scribble a few items on a piece of paper and grab the keys to my truck.
“Oh, my goodness. No. NO!”
I smile to myself as I hear Abby entering the apartment. Yep, that’s about the reaction I was expecting.
“No. No, no, no. What? No.” I can hear the anger swelling up in her by the tone of her voice. She must not like the changes I made to the apartment. But, seriously, who doesn’t have a television in their living room? And this place was in serious need of some natural light and some fresh air so I opened the windows and tied the heavy curtains back.
“Coyer?”
I ignore her as I continue kneading the pizza dough down.
“COYER!”
Ok, I guess we’re up to shouting now. Best to just let her get it out. I roll out the dough on the counter and wait for her to come find me.
“COYER! I told you not to…” She stops short at the kitchen door and takes it all in. A look of complete horror on her face. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
“Oh, my goodness.” She takes two steps inside the kitchen and looks around the room with her mouth gaping open. Her shocked eyes flit from the empty egg shells dripping yolk onto the flour covered counter, to the dirty pans in the sink, to the containers of milk and flour standing haphazardly around the kitchen. OK so the place is a bit of a mess but you can’t make a tasty meal without creating some kind of mess.
“What are y…?” I look up from where I was spreading the pesto onto the rolled out pizza base to find her eyes on my chest. “You’re naked!”
I smirk at her and look down at myself. My sweat pants are hanging low on my hips and my bare chest has a few smears of flour on it. “Hardly naked babe.” I wink at her.
She snaps herself out of her haze and turns that deadly glare at my eyes. “Do NOT call me babe! This place is a mess! Oh, my gosh. How am I ever going to get all this cleaned up?! And what is that thing in the living room?”
“The TV?” I can’t for the life of me wipe the smirk off my face even though I know it’s only making it worse.
“YES, the TV?! What is it doing in there? I said not to change anything.” She crosses her arms under her tits causing them to lift and push together. The girl has a great rack. My eyes travel over the rest of her body. She’s still wearing those yoga pants from earlier today and they leave nothing to the imagination. My eyes travel back up her body and rest for a second on those tits before moving up to her face again. Her lips are plump and soft looking and it has a light shine to them like she just put on some chapstick. Her face is flushed with anger. How can she be both hot as fuck and adorable at the same time?
“COYER! Are you even listening to me?!”
“Huh?” I obviously wasn’t.
She lets out an exasperated sigh and lets her arms drop down to her sides. “I said what are you doing in here?”
“Oh, this?” I gesture to the mess on the counter. “This is called cooking.”
“I can see that! But is it completely necessary to mess up my entire kitchen to make… what are you even making?”
“First of all, this is OUR kitchen now. And secondly, I’m making pizza. I thought we could celebrate our first night of being roomies with some pizza and wine.” I smile at her. That smile that always gives me what I want.
She’s silent for a moment but then pulls herself together and that hard line to her mouth is returns. “Well, I can’t have pizza. Or wine.” She says triumphantly like she just won an argument.
“Oh, because of the diabetes?” I can tell by the look on her face that she’s not pleased I discovered her secret.
“That sucks. I found your insulin in the fridge.” I shrug. “But no big deal. I googled some diabetic friendly foods and recipes. The fridge and cupboards are stocked with healthy foods and this pizza has a whole wheat base, basil pesto instead of tomato, shrimp instead of bacon and goat’s cheese instead of mozzarella. Both delicious and good for you. Oh, and I got some wine you can drink too. Google said to only have one glass but I’m sure…”
“You googled food for diabetics?” I answer her incredulous question with another shrug and a smile.
She’s quiet for a second and I’m wondering if I really did break her brain with all this mess.
“Well, the windows need to stay closed. I don’t like dust gathering on my things. And the TV has to go. I don’t like noise. You can keep it in your room. If you agree not to play it too loudly.”
Damn, this girl will not give me an inch.
“No.”
“What?”
“No.” I look her in the eye. I don’t think anyone has ever said no to her before. Ha! We have something in common already. “The windows stay open. Fresh air is good for you. And the TV stays where it is. This is OUR place and unless you want to explain to the landlord why you won’t be making rent again, you need to compromise.”
She opens her mouth to say something but then closes it again.
“Besides, how are we going to Netflix and chill if there’s no TV?”
“Netflix and chill?”
“Yes, it’s a thing people do.” I put the pizza in the oven and grab the dishcloth from where it was tucked into the back off my pants. Wiping my hands I walk toward her slowly. “You know, when they like each other and want to get to know each other better.”
“Well, I don’t like you and I don’t want to get to know you. Problem solved.”
I smirk. I was expecting to get an answer like that. “But I do,” I say slowly, taking a step toward her. “Oh Abby… I so want to get to know you.”
“Um… I…” When I’m inches from her I hold up my hand to stop her from talking. I’m crowding her and making her nervous. I’m doing it on purpose.
“Before you agree, babe,” I let the word hang in the air and move a stray curl from her shoulder. “You had better google what that means.”
I take a step back from her to give her space. “Why don’t you go do that now while I clean up this mess. Pizza will be ready in twenty.”