KEL

ng and chocolate cake.

r a text from an unregistered number. Jill's quick phone call surprised me as much as it was informa

t. Paint-smeared cans, scrapped lifesize canvasses, and soiled, overused rags littered the floor of

ss and order to an impressive degree. It was also the only room where I was least w

find myself squinting. He probably liked the fairly mysteri

ked overused with patches of different paint colors. "Y

artificial flavorings and processed sugars. The juicy, meaty steak he'd cooked

N

me down here with him after I cleaned up the dishes. Did h

N

s paint cans. I stared at his broad back while

ntion the kiss now

ively precise hand painted dark strands on

nched my brows at h

he'd turn away from the canvas to grab something from his

as dark as a raven. Her slender bod

ned back at

ice almost wavered. Sheesh. Such

e at me. His grin was mild and quite forced. My odd behavi

myself internally. I should just tell him what triggered my anxiety again. How

and I should just learn to deal with my own issues singlehandedl

as having trouble eating properly. He cared a lo

d Jill

d to the hospital

ted at my reply. Miles cleared his throat

will send him home in a few days. Or earlier, if his appetite im

nd studied the colorful painting. Seconds of awk

y kept eye contact to a minimum whenever

h. His back slouched and remained facing me whil

rehead, unsure of what else to say. "I b

anna go hom

said. "I need

d money, ju

e me sigh. "Not your ob

lls or..." Miles didn't press on, but

mom wanted me home, for sure. But I still had jobs to finish this month and the next, commitments to fulfill, and pa

k on his face appeared blank instead of sympathetic. He stepped closer to where I sat, waiting for me to

contact with him. A part of me hoped he was in the mood to talk abo

nces then) and I'd been living with him for almost one, but his being tigh

thing on the paint-stained table. He bunched up his

your dad and," I muttered. "

hey're com

" I smiled when Miles only

faced the canvas and ripped open a sachet

anything else. "You don't visit or call them up,"

they were always tied up with the clan's longtime businesses. Miles had also mentioned once o

er for myself. "Why? I mean...I just

ran away twice now." Miles smirked and t

xaggeration." I shook my head and stood

the strong smell of fresh paint and thinner ass

advised when he saw

want for you

nored me and continued shading the outli

you something

ing's

read. Tonight I'd look for new and interesting novels online. "No? What

f. "Right. 'Cause that's j

quiet. I stayed standin

tory for another time. Clearly he wasn't in a chatty mood, and

on the edge of the table with the disorderly collection of painting materials. I even saw

. "The new deadlines a

back, and fumbled for my phone. "Ow!" I flinched when someth

palm was a thin

ne of bright red blood staining my pale skin. The warm liquid oozed an

How did I

Miles stopped whatever he was doing and

t my

e knife behind me just sitting on the table. He held my wr

rom touching my bloody hand. I dismissed his fussing and eyed t

t get in

t the first aid

orearm, and our small tug-of-

tensified, but I ignored it. The second I realized h

face, and before either of us could react, a bright r

y throat constricted at the sight of my

ted his paint-smudged fingers to his lips. He grinned at

cheeks burned up at his comment. "You're unbelieva

iving your parents mo

ILE

hey were devout Catholics. Like my mom's family.

g someone. But I knew they didn't really approve of our living

Mykaela around. She kept me grounded and levelheade

rbed my propensity for alcohol and drug abuse, and she was my u

o back to rehab. Because of her, I wasn't contemplating reverting to my self

been trying to complete for months now. Like the last time I tried painting a big one featurin

oth complexion as she lay still on an old couch in the middle of my art studio. Her slim arm hid half of her n

ing looked decent, the gradients quite realistic. To me at least. A gratifying

h soon. Considering I wasn't the type to always finish som

" Kel grinn

ight's done," I mut

roduct, with her arm wrapped around my back as we sto

bout my latest work. Maybe I should ask her out to dinner this weekend to tha

get dressed behind the canvas. "She looks like m

o her that I needed ne

t new arts and crafts store after the shoot." She be

me after I'd been hiding here in my studio for three day

g at the woman on the painting, her

not. But with her, it felt kind of natural and effortless. Whenever she

I knew she didn't mean to, but she didn't stop hugging me as we stood in front of the canvas, just enjo

But I'd rather not say her hug was already giving me a boner. I wasn'

nfluence. Over the past couple of months, she helped me deal with my issues. Mykaela hel

ent, more levelheaded alter ego. We just had a lot i

igrants who sought their version of "the American dream". She grew up with an olde

ng with psychologically scarring me

yed her company. Sometimes I would lust over her, imagining kissing her and f

rtable bond and our ideal living situation.

d immediately remember how fucked up my family is, and I'd instantly dismiss the thought of having any future with her. Onc

routine. I'd rather be alone and stay her friend than risk

o would be up for a friends-with-benefi