hand toward Seb and the Gucci. “I don’t want people looking too hard at the art or they’ll see how bad it is.”
The two of them reeled and dumped the jackets on the bed.
“Those paintings are fucking amazing, Brax,” Seb cried.
“Stop talking down about yourself. Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone is coming to see your art because it’s good.”
“Yeah, but… the subject matter is…” I fluttered my hands again and let out a high-pitched noise of pure nervousness.
“Hot,” Wyatt said.
Seb nodded. “Very sexy.”
“Provocative,” Wyatt added.
“E-vocative,” Seb purred.
“Controversial?” Wyatt asked.
“Hm, non-commercial. But sellable! Don’t worry, they’ll sell!”
I covered my face in my hands - gently, minding the make-up - and groaned, “I don’t want anyone to buy anything and have them on their walls. What was I thinking?”
Seb sat on the edge of the bed and bounced as he grinned at me knowingly. “Seems to me like you were thinking about how good it feels to be in love.”
Love. The idea had been banging around in my chest for months and now, standing in the middle of my art show, it was thumping in there louder than ever. But Ry wasn’t there yet. The gallery was packed and I was kept distracted by handshakes with art dealers, offers from new agents, congratulations from gallery owners, and of course - celebration with my brothers. They crowded me in a semicircle with the biggest piece behind me, and Matt held up his phone so Sean could see me and the work on FaceTime all the way from his overseas posting with the marines.
“A-zing! Cong-lations, -ax,” he said through sketchy reception right before it cut out.
I couldn’t stop grinning and the six other brothers raised their glasses to me.
“It’s like I’m at work.” Hunter glanced around at the work and wrinkled his nose, but quickly turned to me and winked. “Just kidding. I couldn’t get anything done if he came to work looking so good.”
Hunter pointed to the piece behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know what he was talking about. My show was an entire series of real-life stills, portraits of the thing I was most passionate about. Ryland.
The piece behind me was my favorite. Topless, he stared at the viewer, his bright eyes a stark sapphire blue and full of love. I’d captured the tautness of his muscles and the adoration in his eyes when he looked at me. I hadn’t realized I was painting the portraits for an audience until I’d amassed over ten of them, my own secret stash of Ryland moments I’d wanted to capture forever. It was the love he’d shown me and confidence I’d built on my own that had given me the balls to show them— and paint even more for the exhibition. But it didn’t stop me from feeling sick with worry he wouldn’t like them. Or worse, that he’d be offended.
Richie turned as Cameron arrived and brought him into the circle, and Cam wolf-whistled as soon as he glimpsed at the painting behind me.
“This is amazing work, Brax. The detail of his ripped body…” He whistled. “Impressive.”
Richie frowned and quickly turned to talk to Owen, who was busy looking over at the sales table where Howie was chatting with the gallery owner.
“I’m just going to…check how you’re selling.” Owen made a beeline for Howie.
“Seriously though, Brax.” Hunter raised his glass to me. “You can see the love in every brush stroke. I’m happy for you. Congratulations.”
“Congratulations!” Derek raised a toast, Eli clinked his glass, Richie cheered, and I raised my sparkling water in gratitude.
Suddenly, arms laced around my waist and I fell back against the firm muscle behind me with a laugh. Ryland spun me around, put a gigantic bouquet of flowers in my arms, and immediately kissed me with passion easy to melt into. I only pulled back when I felt the entire gallery looking at us, clearly recognizing Ryland from the work. It was kind of a spotlight. And so was my Gucci jacket, of course.
Ry noticed the attention too, and he looked around with a suspicious expression until he caught a glimpse of the paintings. He gasped as he looked at the artwork adorning every wall. Poignant images of his profile; sexy, sleep-tousled full-body paintings; my man in his suit, ready for work; moody paintings of him on his phone looking serious and stern. Every painting was in black and white with a few strategic splashes of color—pink blush on his cheeks, colored socks, or just his blue eyes.
I