The Artist's Wife (BWWM)

Chapter 20~ Do

"What? Why?"

"Because I hate when your girlfriends bitch on me whenever you pick me over them, go meet her. I'll talk to you later." I hung up and tossed my phone away. I knew I wouldn't like it either if some girl called my man in the middle of the night claiming they were just friends. Besides, I had gotten bitch slapped a lot in the past by his jealous girlfriends, so I knew when to take a hint.

I placed a hand on my forehead and realized that I still needed to talk to someone. My feet lifted me and I headed out of my room, his room was my destination, I didn't know why but it was.

He was probably asleep.

He probably didn't want to talk.

I pushed away all apprehension and made my way to his room, wanting to at least feel his presence and stop the gnawing feeling of loneliness. I was surprised to meet his door wide open, light streaming out.

I stood by the door and noticed him lying upside down on the couch, his dark brown hair falling away from his face and touching the rug. He was holding his sketch pad and biting down on his lower lip, face set in deep concentration.

I thought he went to sleep immediately we came back from dinner with JT because he just went off to his room, bading me a quiet goodbye. My heart leapt a mile when he looked up to meet my eyes, he studied me for a second with those expressive, dark circle lined jade eyes before correcting his position and standing.

Even he could tell something was wrong.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked quietly, moving towards me while I tried to ignore the fact that those grey sweats made him look swoon-worthy. I liked the fact that he didn't ask if I was okay, that question usually annoyed me because I had to lie every time I was asked.

I was not okay, I wanted to crawl up a dark hole to forget everything that had ever happened to me.

"No, I don't," I replied, looking down at his bare feet. Lord, even his feet were sexy. "Can I stay here with you?" I half expected him to say no, so his answer came as a big surprise.

"Sure."

Maybe it was still the numb feeling I was getting from the dream that led to it, but I did another unexpected thing, which surprised even me. I tackled him in a hug. His hands stayed by his side as he tried to recover from the shock of me hugging him. Also, I knew very well that he didn't like touching me.

"You're terrible at hugs," I murmured into his hard chest, my voice muffled. He smelled nice, like a combination of fabric softener, fresh apples and a hint of what smelt like turpentine. Intoxicating. I squeezed him harder, looking up to meet his perfect face still looking confused, his jade-green eyes staring down at me from beneath his long lashes. He looked ever so innocent.

"Hug me back," I whispered, biting down on my lower lip and controlling my fingers from inching under his shirt and just exploring his skin. He would probably stop the embrace if I did that so I restrained myself.

He gave a resigned sigh before wrapping his arms around me and enveloping me in a warm hug that seemed to melt all my worries away. He rested his chin on my head, his finger rubbing tiny circles on the small of my back, which sent shocks of pleasure down my system.

I released him from the tight embrace when it seemed like I was holding on longer than normal. I sighed, peering down at my heaving chest through the peach camisole and decided I needed a shower. To clear my head, I didn't understand how I was feeling anymore.