He looked at Aaron, who nodded and went back toward what I assumed was the kitchen. Something about that silent exchange made my spine tingle. Few things in the world were sexier to me than the dynamic between an established Dom/sub couple. The near telepathy. The way a Dom didn’t even have to speak, and the sub immediately did as he was told. It was all effortless. Automatic, even. I craved that dynamic, and maybe someday I’d have it. In the meantime, I could sure enjoy watching theirs.
“Come on.” Will motioned for me to follow him down a different hallway. “Let’s go sit.”
As we walked into the living room, a painting caught my eye, and I halted. It was abstract, mostly black and white with a lot of gray, and there were a few sharp silver lines that really brought the whole thing together. This was the kind of abstract art I’d always aspired to be able to do—where there was rhythm and movement and energy, and just the right amount of contrast, sharpness, and softness. “Wow, this is gorgeous.”
Will joined me. “Thanks. I haven’t had time to paint anything like that recently, but…”
“Wait, you…” I glanced at him, then at the painting, and I realized there was a stylized WT at the bottom. “You painted this?”
He smiled, gesturing around us. “I painted most of what’s on the walls.”
My lips parted, and as I looked around the room knowing most of this came from his hands…whoa. There was no cohesive theme or style, though they hardly clashed. Some pieces were abstract, each wildly different from one to the next. Hanging on a rich green accent wall, there was a still life comprised of antique farm equipment. A broad, vibrant landscape hung above the mantel. On the thin section of wall between the living room and stairs, there was a long, skinny painting of a stylized waterfall with tree branches in the foreground occupied by colorful birds.
There were some photos on the wall too, including wedding photos. One of the wedding portraits was much larger than the others, and dear Lord, what I wouldn’t give for a man to look at me the way they were looking at each other.
And then I saw the WT on the lower corner, and realized that, too, was a painting.
“Holy shit.” I gestured at it as I stepped closer to get a better look. “You painted this one too?”
“Yep.” Will smiled, looking so utterly sweet and in love as he gazed up at the portrait. “I loved the photo, so I had to paint it.”
I stared up at the portrait. It was obviously a painting now that I really looked at it, but it was definitely photorealistic. The details on both their faces, on the champagne flutes they were clinking together, on Aaron’s wedding ring—it was just stunning.
“Wow,” I whispered. “This is all just… It’s amazing. Your work is gorgeous.”
“Thanks.”
Right then, Aaron came into the living room with two glasses in one hand and a third in the other. He looked around as if we weren’t where he’d expected us to be. Then he saw us, and he smiled. “Oh, you discovered his art?”
“Yeah, it’s unreal.” I almost told them I painted too, but…yeah, no. I was nowhere near good enough to be comparing notes with an artist of this caliber, and I really didn’t want to kick off this evening by showing my work to someone who could paint like that.
Aaron arranged our drinks on the coffee table, and the three of us sat down—Will on the armchair, Aaron kitty-corner to him on the sofa, and me on the other end of the sofa.
“So,” I said, thumbing the condensation on my water glass. “Do we do the small talk thing, or skip right to the reason I answered your ad?” Immediately, I cringed. God, could I sound a little less like someone with no grasp on social skills?
But they both laughed softly.
“Well, we can break the ice first,” Aaron said. “But we all know why we’re here.”
“We do.” Will’s voice was low and smooth, and I decided then and there I could listen to him all night. Hell, I could listen to both of them all night.
Will leaned forward and slid his hand over the top of Aaron’s knee as he held my gaze. “It probably wouldn’t hurt to cut right to the chase on some things. Neither of us wants to pry into anything that isn’t our business, but especially when we’re getting into pain play, we have to make sure everyone stays safe.” He glanced at Aaron, a look of concern crossing his expression before he faced me again. “And we’ve unfortunately learned the hard way in the past that someone who’s just come out of a bad relationship or had, shall we say, an involuntary career change, can get…” He hesitated like he wasn’t sure which word to use. Finally, he settled on, “They aren’t as controlled as they need to be.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “I hadn’t thought about that, but you’re right.” I glanced back and forth between them. “So, I assume you’re asking why I just moved here and why my life is a bit, um, chaotic?”
They both nodded.
“As much as you’re willing to tell.” Aaron rested his hand on top of his husband’s. “Like Will said—we’re not trying to pry.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Sitting back a little, I took a deep breath. “Okay, right off the bat, I’m not coming off a breakup or anything.” I laughed bitterly, but sobered. “I, um… The short version is that I moved to Laurelsburg because my dad passed away, and I inherited his house.”
They both straightened.
“Oh,” Will said. “Sorry to hear it.”
I shrugged. “It’s a long and complicated mess of a story. And as far as dating or breakups? I’ve hardly ever had the time or the headspace for a relationship since before I started medical school.”
Aaron’s eyebrows jumped. “You’re a doctor?”
“Uh, well…” The blush in my cheeks felt a lot more conspicuous than it probably was. “I said I started medical school. I didn’t say I finished.”
“Is that right?” Will asked. My first instinct was to take the question as snide and judgmental, and my hackles went up. But on second thought, as I replayed the words and his tone in my head, he didn’t sound snide or judgy at all. Cautiously curious, if nothing else.
Calm the hell down, Griffith. It’s a conversation, not an interrogation.
“Yeah. I, um…” I swallowed. “I made it to the end of my third year, and realized I didn’t want to be there. So I, um… I quit.” I cringed inwardly, bracing for the inevitable looks of pity or disapproval, since God knew that was what I’d been bombarded with ever since I’d parted ways with my father’s dream.
To my surprise, Aaron said, “That shit’s not for everyone. I went to law school with a guy who made it about that far, and one day he just said, ‘fuck it, I’m out,’ and never looked back.”
“Really?”
“Yep. He’ll be paying those student loans until he’s dead, but he’s a lot happier now.”
“Ugh. Same. Even when I realized I didn’t want the degree after all, racking up all that debt and not finishing still hurt.” I made a face. “Anyway, what’s he doing instead?”
“He went to work for his uncle’s construction company.” Aaron laughed quietly. “He said the day someone put a nail through his hand with a nail gun was still less painful than a single minute he spent in law school.”