wrung my hands nervously as I watched him taking it in.
“I…can’t believe you did this,” he said quietly. “I don’t understand how you…could do this.”
My heart shuddered to a stop and I couldn’t find my breath.
“I’m… Shit. Are you angry?” I grabbed his arm, desperate to show him I didn’t mean to hurt him with the art. “Did I come on too strong? I’m sorry. Shit, I -”
“No.” He turned to me and looked right into me. “I’m not angry, baby. I mean—is this how you really see me?”
My pulse still hammered but I was able to take a breath. “How I see you?”
“You’ve made me look…so handsome.”
I stammered and then laughed, shaking my head at him in disbelief. “Yes, it’s how I see you. You’re a beautiful, gorgeous, serious man. You’re…a hero. My hero.”
I put my hand to his chest and felt his heart beating just as fast as mine.
“I see every part of you, and I wanted to show you how much I love all these sides of you.”
His lips twitched. “‘Love’?”
I hadn’t meant to say it so flippantly, or at all. But everyone in the damn gallery could see I loved him from the work, so what was the point of covering it up anymore? I smiled proudly and nodded. “Yeah. I do. I love you, Ry.”
He pressed my hand firmer against his chest. A quiet hush filled the gallery. Ry’s throat bobbed and he searched my face for something, like I was about to take it back. My nerves started to flicker again. I adjusted my grip on the flowers. I bit my bottom lip. I looked to him for any sign of reciprocation, or even a whisper we’d need to talk about this later.
Suddenly, he took my face in his hands and tilted my chin up as he grinned down at me like he was proud. “I love you too, baby.”
My heart thundered and my pulse roared in my ears, and before my smile could fully beam at him, he kissed me. Applause from the crowd burst through me and wolf-whistles made my cheeks glow hot in Ry’s hands. I laughed into our kiss and he chuckled back, then pulled back to kiss my forehead and slip an arm around my shoulders.
He stayed like that all night— right by my side as I made big sales and got booked for commissions and showings. I even got interest from sponsors for the art workshops for homeless youth.
“Almost sold out, brother.” Richie gave me a thumbs-up from the sales table at the end of the night. “Just two to go.”
I shook my head. I was officially sold out. There were two paintings I was keeping—the very first portrait I’d done in secret, and the one we’d just declared our love under. Even though I knew in my gut Ry would look at me with his expression of adoration for the rest of our lives together, I wanted to remember the moment forever—the moment when I truly trusted my feelings and was brave enough to go first.
26
Ryland
Brax’s shimmering jacket dropped the floor the moment we stumbled into my house, all hands and lips and teeth and tongues. I was so fucking turned on by him and his talent. The art show had been flattering, of course, but it was the way he held himself in the crowd, upsold his work, and impressed even the snobbiest judges that had me rock hard for him by the time I got him home.
I went to lift him up, but he wriggled away and held up a finger. He grabbed his jacket, shook it out, and gently placed it over the back of the couch, then leaped right into my arms. My delightful fashionista. I spun him around as we kissed, and then set him down in the middle of the living room. He reached for me with his lips again but I stepped back and stood tall.
He immediately fell back and his eyes went glassy. He knew what was coming. We both did.
“Strip,” I said sternly.
He didn’t hesitate. He made quick work of his button-down shirt, revealing that his nipples were already hard. I wanted to nibble them and make him squirm, but I stood stoic and pointed to his slacks. Soon, he stood in nothing but tight purple briefs. I wanted to touch his cock, already hard and straining under the fabric. A guttural groan of adoration came from the back of my throat when he peeled off the underwear