Home > Pining(13)

Pining(13)
Author: Stephanie Rose

Kissing Anthony wouldn’t be just nice.

What I felt for him crawled under my skin and wouldn’t let me go. The notion that he could be feeling some of that for me had me nervous, excited, and terrified all at once: nervous about how to tell him what I’d found out tonight, excitement from the spark of hope of having a real chance together, and terrified once I put it out there, I’d lose the tiny piece of him that wasn’t even really mine, but was still important to me.

“Well, I don’t have it yet. I have to interview and show him more of my work first. I’d have to organize my portfolio, which right now is a large sketchbook of random drawings with no rhyme or reason, but at least this gives me a chance I wouldn’t have otherwise. Doesn’t hurt to try, I guess.”

“I’d love to see more of your work.”

“It’s the scribbling of a madman, or at least that’s how it looks now.” He chuckled as we walked down the block.

“You always downplay your talent. Some may call that fishing for compliments.” I lifted a brow.

His head fell back with a hearty laugh. “My apartment is right here.” We stopped in front of a small, red brick building. “If you don’t believe me, come up and take a look.” He jerked his chin toward the lobby door.

His apartment? Alone? Oh, Jesus.

He climbed the outside stairs and held open the lobby door for me to enter.

“I’ll show you the mess, so you don’t think I’m fishing.” The side of his mouth curled, and my knees liquified. I sucked in a deep breath to shake it off and quell the pounding of my heart before I followed.

“I’ll warn you, it’s a small place. But for just me, it works.” He shot me a shy grin over his shoulder before he unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open.

I scanned the room as I made my way in. It was a typical guy’s studio apartment. Bed, modest-sized TV on the wall, laptop on the nightstand, and hotplate in the corner with a one-cup coffee machine. My eyes kept coming back to the bed as much as I tried not to look, my skin prickling at being inside his private space. I had overwhelming inclinations to both bolt out the door and to roll around on his sheets to see if they smelled like him.

“This is nice.” I nodded, shrugging off my coat and searching the room for a chair, preferably as far away from where he crawled under the sheets at night as possible.

“It’s fine,” he sighed and picked up the chair in front of what looked like a tiny laptop desk. “Have a seat.”

I nodded a thank you and sat down, wrapping my arms around my torso as a shiver ran through me. I wasn’t sure if it was from how cold his apartment was or because I was alone in such a small space with Anthony.

“I’m sorry.” Anthony grimaced at me before rushing to the window. “I have a thing about keeping the windows wide open. I’ll shut them a little for you.”

“Even in winter?” I asked as my teeth chattered. “I thought your heat was out for a second.” My words came out shaky, both from the cold and the adrenaline coursing through me.

“I don’t like enclosed spaces. Even though it’s tight in here, I like it…open. I know it’s weird.”

“I guess you know a lot of awesome hot plate meal ideas.”

“Enough to survive. I have a toaster, too. If I want something bigger, the deli downstairs has good, cheap sandwiches.” He shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed before reaching over to his tiny nightstand. “Where I came from—well, I don’t need much. My gym is up the block and open all night, and the subway station is right on the corner to get me to both jobs.” He plopped a large, spiral bound sketchbook on my lap. “And here’s my portfolio, if you can call it that. Still think I’m fishing for compliments?” His mouth curved into a small smile before he rested his elbows on his knees.

“Can I look?” I pinched the corner of the cracked, worn out cover between my index finger and thumb, afraid to turn the page and have to figure out how to unsee something else.

“I wouldn’t have handed it to you if I didn’t want you to see, sweetheart. Go ahead.” He tipped his chin toward the book.

I lifted the cover and flipped through each page carefully. The lines on each paper that were so deep they almost punctured holes. Thinking of him sketching with such passion and purpose gave me a chill. His detail blew me away on every page.

“This is amazing, Anthony,” I told him, breathless from my pounding heart. Between the different cityscapes and battle scenes, I didn’t spot a green-eyed heroine in any of it. I exhaled, mostly in relief, but couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment. It made me doubt what I’d seen and why I thought it was there.

“Hey,” he crooned as he caught my wrist. “Why do you look like you’re afraid to see a ghost or something?” He laughed and tightened his grip on me when I wouldn’t raise my head.

I sucked in a quick breath before I met his gaze. His eyes, as translucent as they were deep and dark, made me squirm in my seat. I sighed, closing the book and setting it on the bed next to him.

“I read the rest of your comic book. You were talking to Jonny for a while, and curiosity got to me. I wanted to know why you snatched it away from me before I had a chance to read the whole thing.”

The mirth dancing in his eyes vanished as they grew wide with panic. A long moment of silence dangled between us. I didn’t get a verbal confirmation or denial, but the way his shoulders squared as his body went rigid seemed like a yes to me.

“It’s me, isn’t it? I guess I’m reading too much into it but …” My head fell back as I searched the ceiling for the right way to say this. “I wanted to believe I was in your head as much as you’re in mine.” My eyes landed on where his hand was still wrapped around my wrist. I turned my palm over and threaded our fingers together. He didn’t lean into me, but he didn’t pull away.

A humorless laugh fell from his lips. “You’re in my head, Victoria. All the fucking time.” He shook his head, sliding his palm away from mine before he stood from the bed. “But we can’t.”

“Why?” I popped off of the chair and closed the tiny distance between us. “Because you work for my father? He’s not going to fire his best mechanic.”

“Josh gave me the chance no one else did. So yes, I can’t disrespect him when he obviously isn’t thrilled with the idea of me and his daughter.”

“What else aren’t you telling me?” I moved even closer, so close that his chest rose and fell against mine. I’d been afraid to go here, but now that I was, I wasn’t backing down.

He cupped my cheek, cradling my chin with his thumb as it glided along my jaw.

“You’re beautiful, smart, and good. Too good for my bullshit to bring you down.”

Anger filtered through me, and I wanted to swat his hand away, but I wouldn’t. His dark eyes heated with a want and reverence that pinned me where I stood.

“You’re beautiful, and smart, and good.” I reached up to grab his wrist. “Why don’t you believe that?”

His teeth sank into his bottom lip as if he was starving and had to force himself to not take a bite.

For my entire life, everyone put me on this annoying pedestal, and I was sick of it. I was stronger and tougher than anyone realized and didn’t need to be treated as if I was made of glass and could shatter at any moment.

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