Pink, red, and black were the only colours in snatchable distance when I’d gone to the warehouse that housed art supplies.

I didn’t like stealing, but I had no cash to my name.

I’d pay them back...when I started earning.

Olin’s fingers traced the feathers of the largest flamingo. “This is so good, Gil.” She spun in place, her face alight and eyes full of pride.

I smiled, enjoying her response. “Glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it.”

“Next time, I’ll try to get browns and fawny colours.”

She nodded in excitement. “To do woodland creatures?”

I shook my head, crowding her against the pink splashed wall. With a hand on either side of her, I trapped her.

I didn’t mean to. It just happened.

But with her imprisoned, my system drenched with hunger that I’d been ignoring for way, way too long.

“Not woodland creatures.” My eyes locked on her lips as she licked them.

Her chest rose and fell, brushing mine with her rapid inhales. The silence of the evening thickened until it hummed with energy. Energy that electrocuted me.

The chemistry that constantly burned between us scorched my veins.

She moaned a little. Her eyelids fell to half-mast, becoming as drunk as I was. “What then?”

Fuck, I needed her.

I couldn’t stand the pain anymore. The self-imposed celibacy when all I wanted was her mouth on mine and my hands all over her.

Bending closer, my brain fogged with lust. My body clawed for more. I leaned against her, her frame flush with mine. I shivered with how goddamn good she felt. “Owls. Lots and lots of owls.”

“Oh.” Her voice was just breath.

“Owls for O. For you. I’ll do an entire portrait with every animal starting with O.”

She melted into my touch as I cupped her cheek and held her still. We stared at each other. Our senses turned primitive...only taste and touch remained.

Her hands landed on my chest, bunching fistfuls of my T-shirt as her head fell back against my graffiti. “Gil...”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think...would you...I mean—”

“You want me to kiss you?”

She shuddered; her eyes closed.

She nodded weakly.

I closed the final distance, her breath so delicate and sugary on my lips. Her skin so soft and her body so intoxicating.

I’d waited so fucking long for this. I’d reached the end of my control.

“O...” I brushed my lips on hers.

Just once.

A simple graze.

But it was enough to punch through my ribs and drag a gasping, bleeding heart out of me.

I groaned.

She moaned.

I struggled to stay the gentleman she knew and not the bastard she didn’t.

Her chin tilted upward, seeking my mouth.

I went to kiss her.

To give in to her.

But then, her phone rang.

Shrill and demanding, it sliced through the thick intimacy that’d bubbled around us, kicking us back into the world like a bucket of ice water.

I cleared my throat, stepping away and adjusting the constant agony in my jeans.

Olin stomped her foot, her face wild and eyes annoyed as she jerked the offending device from her pocket. She paused. “That’s strange. It’s my dad.”

“Answer him.”

It would give me time to get myself together.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Kissing her in a dark alley, alone in the middle of the city? Anything could’ve happened. What if I couldn’t stop? What if I’d done something as horrendous as all the johns who visited my father’s whore house?

I hadn’t even told her I was in love with her.

She hadn’t told me.

I’d promised not to touch her until I was sure she was mine in every way.

“Hey, Dad.” Olin answered the call on the fourth ring. “Yep, I’m good. Uh-huh. Nope. Oh, really. Ah, okay. Yeah, I guess.”

I couldn’t make out what her father said, but by the time she hung up, the strained pressure in my jeans had faded enough for me to be semi-coherent. “Everything okay?”

She shook her head, shock and trepidation on her face. “They want me to join them at the gala.”

“What? Now?” My eyebrows rose. “It’s late. And...you’re not exactly dressed.”

She smoothed down her grey hoodie and jeans. “I know, but he said they feel awkward not having me there. They’ve probably been asked a lot why I’m not there, seeing as it’s kids related, you know?”

“I understand.” I raked a hand through my hair, forcing a bright smile for her. “See? They’re finally realising the benefits of having a daughter.”

She laughed sadly. “Yeah, right.”

Scooping up the forgotten spray can from the ground, I held out my hand for her to take. “Come on. Let’s get you to that gala, little ostrich.”

I held her hand while we waited for a taxi.

I kissed her knuckles as she stepped from the vehicle and climbed the stairs of the large convention hall.

I paid the fare with money she’d given me and made my way back home.

But I didn’t enter the house of horrors.

Instead, I crept through my neighbourhood with a half-empty can of spray paint and partook in my new form of medicine.

OceanofPDF.com

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Twenty-Three

______________________________

Olin

-The Present-

A HAUNTED NOISE echoed through the warehouse and into Gil’s bedroom.

I jolted upright, ripped from whatever dream I’d been having.

I blinked with disorientation, brain hazy and eyes fuzzy. The nest of blankets around me were warm and cosy, but whatever woke me came again, launching me from the covers.

What the hell is that?

Scrambling upright, I dashed to the door and cracked it open. Darkness yawned deep and endless, hiding familiar and unfamiliar things. The borrowed clothes hung on my slim frame. Gil’s size wasn’t exactly in keeping with my own, and I hoisted up the waistband of the black sweatpants he’d loaned me, retying the strings tighter around my hips.

I’d struggled when I’d slipped his belongings on. They’d smelled of him. Smelled of comforting washing powder and the citrusy paint smell that permeated his skin. It was a scent that hurt my heart.

After he’d left me, I’d dressed and made the bed, then sat and stared at the door, trying to decide what to do. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I’d been trying to come up with an excuse of going home. But after so many sleepless nights and a paint-smeared evening, I couldn’t fight the fatigue anymore.

A cool breeze nibbled at my bare feet.

How long have I been asleep?

A warbled grunt came from the warehouse. My protective instincts sent adrenaline flowing.

Gil!

Rushing from his room, I padded through the night-shrouded lounge. The too-large T-shirt wafted around me as I crept toward the warehouse.

A curse shattered the silence followed by a thud.

I ran.

Bolting through the office, I skidded to a silent stop as my eyes locked on Gil fast asleep on a tatty couch by the wall. Moonlight and the faint stirrings of dawn highlighted his strained face.

No one was hurting him. No one else was here.

Just Gil and his nightmare.

His legs were tangled in a plaid blanket while he lay on his back. One hand rested on the paint-speckled floor while the other was balled into a fist on his belly. His brow tugged over shut eyes while his chest rose and fell as if he’d run from a monster in his dreams.

Another groan vibrated through his body, tortured and broken, almost wet with tears.

I froze.

Chills scattered down my back with the utmost knowledge I was not supposed to see this.

“O. God...I’m so sorry.” His face switched from distraught to fury. “Don’t! No—”

My knees threatened to buckle.