Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Rose

"Good morn—" Cutting off Phillip's greeting in favour of a much more satisfying one, I eagerly pull him towards me for a kiss right there on his front step. Large hands immediately come up to grip my waist as our tongues tangle together.

"Hi," I breathe the word against his lips.

"I think I like your version of good morning better," he jokes, with a cheeky grin. This close I'm unable to resist popping up onto my tiptoes to press a quick kiss to one of his dimples.

"Thanks." I smile, letting my heels fall back to the ground.

"Someone's in a good mood today." Noticing the large bag I hastily filled with art supplies this morning, Phillip takes it from me and walks inside.

"Well, I had a pretty good weekend," I reply, following him to the kitchen. He places my bag on one of the high stools before turning back to me, brows raised.

"Pretty good?"

"Some parts stood out more than others. Dinner on Saturday was lovely," I tease.

"It was but I preferred dessert." The heated gaze trailing up and down the length of my body leaves no doubt as to what he means by dessert . Delicious indeed. Clearing my throat, I lean against the counter and change the subject before he gets any ideas.

"How was lunch with your family?" That snaps him out of it and he turns to make our morning cups of coffee.

"It was great, they're all excited to meet you."

"Really?"

"Of course. That reminds me, is there anything you don't eat?"

"I'm allergic to shellfish. Other than that, I'll eat whatever."

"I'll let Mum know." He quickly types out a text, presumably passing on the information before returning his phone to his back pocket. "Oh, by the way I know you were starting to feel a little anxious on Friday about when you'd be able to start painting so I finished getting all of the panels put together yesterday." An excited gasp escapes me as his words register.

"You finished them? I can start today?"

"Yeah, they're all yours now."

"That makes me feel so much better, thank you. It'll be easier having them on wheels now too although I will miss watching you lift them."

Shaking his head with a chuckle at my exaggerated eyebrow waggle, Phillip picks up our drinks, heading towards the living area. We usually go straight out to the workshop but it's nice taking a moment to catch up with him before we get started. I know it's only been twenty-four hours since we last saw each other but I missed him.

"What about you? How did you spend your Sunday?" he asks, settling onto the sofa with his arm draped across the back, body angled towards mine in invitation.

Snuggling into his side I sip at my coffee before deciding to take a leap. The only way things will move forward between us is if I continue allowing myself to be vulnerable and really give this relationship a chance. Phillip's been so open and honest with me, he deserves the same in return. I can trust him with this.

"Actually, I um…" I clear my throat and try again. "I started a new painting, a portrait." Phillip leans back a little so he can see my face properly.

"Yeah?" he asks, a wide grin already taking over his face.

"Yeah." I smile shyly, watching as his gaze softens fondly.

"That's great, I'm proud of you, Rose." His arm drops from the back of the sofa to squeeze me to him.

"I mean, no actual paint has touched canvas yet but I've made a start at least," I rush to explain, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

"I don't know much about painting but from what I've gathered, there's a lot to do before you actually put brush to canvas, right?"

I nod. Soft lips brush across my temple. Neither of us can get enough of these small intimate touches now that we're allowed to be affectionate.

"I'd like to see it when it's finished," he hedges and I stiffen in his arms.

Forcing my muscles to relax on a deep exhale I take a moment before immediately refusing. I want to share this part of my life with him. Hell, I want to share everything with him. That doesn't make it any less terrifying but Phillip is worth being brave for.

"Maybe…" I take another sip of coffee then try again, staring into my mug like it holds all the answers. "Maybe I could just show you some of my older stuff for now. If you want?" Phillip's arm tightens around my shoulders before he sets his mug down and turns to cup my face. His cornflower-blue gaze demands all my attention.

"I would love that." The intensity of his stare as his calloused thumb sweeps across my cheek leaves me feeling stripped bare like he can see through me all the way to my very soul. It's a vulnerable thing to be looked at and truly seen but I don't turn away. "I'm so damn glad that other artist quit so we could find each other again."

His lips capture mine in a deep, passionate kiss, dominating my mouth in the most delicious way. Embers of desire ignite between us fanning into a roaring flame. Quickly, I set down my mug and loop my arms around his neck, needing to be closer. Lost in the heady rhythm of his lips against mine and the slight sting at the base of my scalp where he grips my hair, I become desperate for more. More of his kiss, more of his bare skin on mine, more Phillip .

Swinging my leg over his thighs to straddle him I ask, "Is this OK?" If the hard length pressing against the confines of his jeans is any indication, at least one part of Phillip is very happy with our change of position but I want to make sure he's comfortable. Just because we slept together once doesn't automatically mean he'll want it to happen again or right now.

"I'm good with whatever you want," Phillip replies, between trailing kisses down the side of my neck. Thank God for that. He explored my body on Saturday night and now I'm more than ready to do some exploring of my own.

With one well-defined arm circling my waist, he pulls me closer still until I'm flush against the hardness beneath me. Growing in confidence, I draw his mouth back to mine while grinding against him. His large hands cup my ass through my jeans, encouraging me to rock against him and helping me find a rhythm that has us both panting.

"I want to make you feel good," I breathe against his lips, nipping lightly then soothing the sting with my tongue while I shift my weight back a little, hands dropping to his waistband. At his nod, I undo his jeans and free his cock, my core clenching at the sight of him. He's long and thick and it makes my mouth water. Taking him in my hand I give a few firm strokes before sliding down into the gap between the sofa and coffee table. He groans at the sight of me on my knees before him.

"Fuck, baby. You're every fantasy I've ever had come to life." Emboldened, I lean forward flicking my tongue over the head of his dick and collecting the drop of precum that's gathered there. His hands latch onto the back of my head as I lean forward, tracing my tongue along the length of him. He's not gripping tight like he's trying to direct my movements, more like he just needs something to hold on to. His soft moans only grow louder when I finally take him in my mouth.

Heavy-lidded blue eyes blaze down at me like the hottest of flames and my thighs rub together unbidden, my lust addled body automatically searching for its own release.

"Touch yourself, Rose. I want to see you come." No need to tell me twice. I have my jeans unbuttoned and my hand in my panties in record time. Unable to take all of him in, I use my free hand to stroke the base of his dick while my mouth lavishes attention over the rest. Soon he's unable to keep his hips still and starts thrusting up to meet me. Teasing my clit, I moan around his length. Almost there.

"I'm close," he warns and I redouble my efforts, needing to taste him. I work both of us faster until Phillip grips my hair tighter, shouting out with his orgasm. Swallowing his release, I keep working my clit, tilting my head back on a moan.

"Fuck," Phillip mutters watching me fall over the edge soon after. "Come here, beautiful." He tucks himself away then reaches down, pulling me up to sit in his lap, our foreheads resting against one another while we recover.

For a while, we simply enjoy holding each other, basking in the afterglow but eventually it's time to get to work. We have another progress call with Aria this afternoon and, now I know I can dive straight in, I want to have my design outlined on at least two of the set panels by then.

The rest of the morning is filled with stolen glances at each other across the workshop. Phillips's lips pull up into a teasing grin whenever he catches me looking his way, entranced by how the tendons in his forearms and large hands move while he works on adding more detail to the blanket box. The man is, to put it simply, really fucking hot.

Opting to call Aria from the sofa this time, we head out to the living room mid-afternoon ready to update her on our progress.

"Hey, how's it going?" Aria's face fills the screen, her usual curls smoothed into a sleek ponytail today.

"It's going well. Phillip sorted out the panels over the weekend so I've been able to start outlining my design on them this morning. I've got two of the panels done so far, and I'll get some basic colour on one of them before the end of the day." I'm actually excited about it and eager to hurry this chat with Aria along so I get started.

"That's great news! Phillip, you know you don't have to work weekends on this right? There's still plenty of time."

"I know, but I want Rose to have as long as possible to paint. Nothing takes the joy out of a job like having to rush through it in a panic." Catching myself smiling up at him I quickly wipe the goofy grin from my face but one look at the screen tells me Aria's noticed. We didn't end up crossing paths on Sunday so I haven't had the chance to fill her in on how my date with Phillip went, but the knowing glint in her eyes tells me she has some idea.

"Well, I'm glad everything's on track." She smiles brightly. "Phillip, would you mind if I catch up with Rose for a minute?" At my nod he bids Aria goodbye, leaving to give us some space.

"Alright, spill it," Aria demands, all traces of the professional businesswoman from moments ago replaced by my absolutely feral best friend.

"Shhh." I frantically lower the volume of the call, darting my gaze over to Phillip to see if he heard anything. "He's only gone to the kitchen and this place is open plan," I tell her. Spotting him making my afternoon coffee, my heart melts that he's been paying such close attention down to the smallest things like when I need my next caffeine fix. I think I'll keep him.

"Something's happened between the two of you, I can tell," Aria interrupts my mushy thoughts, sounding smug. "I take it the date went well?"

"Things got off to a rocky start when we ran into Malcolm but after that it was perfect."

"Wait, you ran into Malcolm?" she screeches, making me wince even with the call at half-volume.

"I'm actually glad it happened. It gave me the opportunity to really stand up to him, and now I feel like I can leave everything to do with him in the past where he belongs."

"That's great, Rose. Really." She watches me intently for a moment before asking, "So Phillip makes you happy?" Blushing, I glance over at him again.

"Yeah, he does. It's still early but I really like him Aria. He makes me feel… safe."

Phillip follows me out to the workshop, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before crossing over to his side of the room. It's dangerously easy to imagine us doing this every day long after the set project ends. This corner of the room could become my own little art studio. I could work on my own projects and commissions while Phillip came and went for handyman jobs, working on his custom furniture in between. I'm filled with a deep longing for that simple yet beautiful future as I finish the last of my coffee and get to work.

Since the oil-based paint will be slow-drying, even though I've used turpenoid to thin it, my plan is to rotate through the set panels getting the basic colour done on all four before circling back to the first to add more detail.

The familiar routine of mixing up paint colours on my palette helps smooth the jagged edges of my nerves. While I'm finally looking forward to painting again, there's still a large part of me that's apprehensive. I can't put my finger on why exactly. True, I may be a little rusty, but I won't have forgotten all of my skills after a few months of disuse, and I have a plan to work from so it's not like I need to worry about a lack of inspiration. Hand hovering over my selection of brushes I'm forced to acknowledge, even if just to myself, that I'm still afraid I'm not good enough.

Aria and Phillip's reactions to my designs have done wonders for my confidence but I suppose it was foolish of me to hope I might conquer my insecurities overnight. I may have had a breakthrough with my own work yesterday but I still haven't put brush to canvas yet, or in this case, wood. Well, there's no time like the present to try and silence the omnipresent voice of doubt in the back of my mind. I take a deep breath, roll back my shoulders, pick up a brush, and start to paint .

Eventually carmine red and burnt orange flood the sky like the most beautiful of watercolours, signalling the end of the day. I drag my feet while packing up my stuff, nervous about showing Phillip the small collection of paintings stored under my bed. When I mentioned it earlier I thought I would at least have a few days to mentally prepare, but while we were still curled up on the sofa he brought up driving me home so he could see my work and I agreed. The orgasm high is one hundred percent to blame. Now it's actually time for Phillip to take me home, the idea is much more daunting than it was a few hours ago.

"You don't have to show me," he tells me, obviously picking up on my nerves while I fidget in the seat next to him as we pull up outside my flat.

"No, I want to, I'm just… I didn't expect to be this nervous, that's all. Let's get this over with." Flinging the passenger door open with gusto, I launch myself from the car before I can change my mind.

"Now there's a ringing endorsement," Phillip jokes, following me to the front door.

"No more little quips out of that mouth please," I warn as we walk up the stairs to the flat.

"I thought you liked my mouth," he teases, voice dropping an octave. Blushing, I open the door, ignoring his antics and leading the way to my bedroom. I know what he's doing—trying to keep the mood light so I'm not as freaked out. It's kind of working.

"If this was all just an elaborate plan to get me back into your bedroom you didn't need to try so hard." He grins, making himself at home by kicking his boots off and settling on the edge of my bed, an expectant look on his face.

Pinning him with a flat stare I reply, "I despise you."

His laughter floats after me while I rustle around under the bed, reaching for the paintings. When my fingers brush against the edge of a canvas my breath catches, chest tightening. I rock back onto my knees. This is really happening. A gentle caress down my spine startles me and I whip my head around to find Phillip crouched down beside me, eyes full of compassion.

"I am not him. I won't make light of this," he assures me firmly. With a nod I reach under the bed once more and pull out the first canvas.

"Take this one please." Phillip accepts the largest canvas and walks over to the wall opposite my bed, leaning it against the closed bathroom door. Busying myself I wrestle three more smaller canvases from the pile so I can avoid witnessing his immediate reaction just in case it's bad. Peering at the paintings before me, I decide these are as good a bet as any of the other options lurking under there.

When I stand, Phillip is frozen staring at the largest piece in my collection, mouth agape. Is that good? What's he thinking? Not quite ready to know just yet, I occupy myself with propping the other paintings up along the same wall. After swapping the middle image with the one on the far left I stop stalling and move to stand beside him.

"What do you think?" I ask, voice small.

"It's stunning," he breathes, eyes raking over every inch of the piece, making sure to take it all in. This one is a portrait with a vast array of orange hues that complement the sunset we just left behind. It took me weeks to complete. Flecks of gold leaf shimmer under the overhead light, glinting off the lilies surrounding the woman and adding to the mystical quality of the painting.

There were a lot of interested buyers when I first shared this one on social media but I never had the heart to let go of it. This piece is special. It reminds me of the kind of person I want to be, and I'll keep it until I find the courage to become more like the woman in the painting.

"You mean that?" I search his features for signs of deception. Plenty of people think my work is good, and I am starting to believe in myself again too, but not all art is for everyone. It's subjective. As long as he isn't rude about it we'll be ok, but I won't be with someone who can't appreciate my work at all, not again.

"Absolutely. When you're ready to start sharing your art again, the world will be a more beautiful place because of it. I can't speak on it from a technical standpoint, but I know what I like looking at and I don't think I could ever get tired of looking at this." He turns to look at me with a tenderness that makes my heart flutter, then quietly tells me, "She reminds me of you."

He has no idea of the depth of compliment he just paid me, how much those softly spoken words mean. Throwing my arms around him so suddenly he almost stumbles, I bury my head in his shoulder to hide the tears that are gathering in my eyes.

"Thank you." My shoulders shake with a relieved sob that I choke back. "Thank you for taking this seriously. And for not rushing me. Part of me was worried you'd see these and start pushing me before I'm ready." Not that I don't appreciate Aria and Bel's encouragement, but sometimes it makes me feel like I won't be enough for them unless I'm able to do more with my life. Logically I know that's not the case but there's still a voice in the back of my mind wondering how long before they get fed up of waiting for me to get my shit together.

For a split-second something that looks like guilt clouds Phillip's eyes but it's gone so fast I must have imagined it. He strokes my hair soothingly and tightens his other arm around me, hugging me even closer.

"I know you've been let down in the past but I will always look out for you, Rose. I might not get it right all the time but I promise to do my best for you." Phillip tilts my face up, looking directly into my glistening eyes as he speaks, and I see my raw emotions reflected in him. What he's promising is way beyond casual but I can't bring myself to care about the made-up timeline our relationship is supposed to be on. This is more than just dating and if Phillip is going to admit that so openly, then I want to do the same. I can be brave one more time tonight.

"I'll do my best for you too." A soft smile tugs at his lips and the look in his eyes makes all the stress of the evening worth it.

Phillip

Back home I sit brooding on the sofa, listening to the rain hammer down outside. Rose invited me to stay the night but I made up an excuse to leave, telling her I was worried I might have left the door out to the workshop unlocked. She was disappointed but didn't doubt my word which only makes me feel worse about the lie. I couldn't stay though. Not when I wasn't being honest with her.

I planned to tell her about the art show this morning, but when she offered to show me her work I thought that would be a better time to bring it up, less out of the blue. Then she went and thanked me for not rushing her and I couldn't make myself say the words. I run a hand through my hair in frustration. Am I rushing her if I bring up the art show? No. I won't pressure her into participating, but Blake was right, she deserves to know about the opportunity. Plus, if I don't bring it up soon they might find someone else, and I'd feel terrible for taking the chance at a gallery show away from her just because I couldn't find the right time to tell her about it.

Things have changed so much between us. We've shared physical intimacy, sure, but I hadn't been concerned with how that would go if we crossed that line. Rose has a fire within her that I knew would translate well into passion if she decided to share that experience with me. Opening up to me emotionally, though? I had worried about that considering the hurt she carried around like armour. But Rose has let me in much sooner than I ever dared to hope she would, deepening the connection between us to something unlike anything I've experienced in a relationship before. She trusts me, but if she finds out I've been keeping this from her everything will be ruined. I need to tell her. Soon.