Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Phillip

Quietly, I pull the door to Toby's bedroom closed, leaving him alone with the comforting glow of his nightlight for company on the off chance he wakes up. He has finally drifted off after all the excitement and I am more than ready for some alone time with Rose. I was tormenting myself as much as her with all of my teasing touches throughout the evening. Now I can barely focus on anything except the urge to tangle my hands in her golden hair and rediscover her mouth with mine. But first, I need to apologise.

Keeping my steps light, I eagerly make my way down the stairs. At the halfway point the living area comes into view and panic grips me. Rose isn't on the sofa where I left her. Did she change her mind? No. She wouldn't leave without saying anything. Noticing the door out to the workshop is ajar, a beam of light spilling through the door guiding me to her, I follow her trail ready to make things right between us once and for all.

I scan the workshop, relief coursing through me when I spot Rose sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the set. Her delicate fingers tap away on her phone and the now empty mug of hot chocolate I made earlier sits in her lap. The seafoam-green jumper she's wearing has slipped down on one side, revealing the smooth skin of her shoulder and a pale-pink bra strap. She gathered her hair up into a messy bun while we were baking earlier, unintentionally showcasing the slender column of her neck. If only she'd known how tempted I was to trace the graceful slope with my tongue all the way down to that enticing sliver of pink.

Pushing my desire aside, I take a calming breath and step into the room. I tentatively approach her, ready to do anything to earn her forgiveness.

Rose

Absorbed by my work, making notes on my phone of the details that still need to be added to the set, I jump in surprise when the interior door swings open and Phillip steps into the workshop. I came out here for a quick breather, needing to centre myself before our talk, but I must have been gone longer than I thought if he's already done tucking Toby in.

"You're here," he croaks, taking a hesitant step forward. I smile up at him and that's all the encouragement he needs to finish crossing the room in an instant. Then he's right there, joining me on the floor. He reaches for my free hand before seeming to think better of it, his brows lowering. I abandon my phone and reach out, the warmth of him comforting as I slide my palm into his. "Can I get you another drink?" he asks, voice hoarse.

"No, I'm OK." I set my empty mug off to the side, the quiet scrape of ceramic against concrete loud in the tension-filled room. Phillip huffs out a self-deprecating laugh, running his free hand through his hair.

"Sorry. I planned out all these things I wanted to say to you, how I'd apologise… and now we're here I can't remember any of them. Seems like I can't stop messing this up," he admits, looking distraught.

"You haven't messed anything up," I tell him firmly, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "I need to apologise too, you know. You never gave me any reason not to trust you. I should have given you the chance to explain instead of freaking out and jumping to conclusions. I'm sorry."

"No, I shouldn't have waited to bring it up. You deserved to know about the opportunity right away."

"I appreciate that, but as soon as I calmed down enough to think it through, I could understand why you waited. I'm not the most approachable when it comes to my art—wanting to find the right time to tell me makes sense."

"But the right time kept getting interrupted by one thing or another. I should have just come out with it. Instead, you ended up feeling like I was purposefully hiding it and using you and that's not OK. It won't happen again."

"I never should have accused you of just wanting to sleep with me before telling me, I know that's not who you are. It was unfair of me."

"It hurt, but I thought about it after you left and realised how it could seem that way."

"I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my mouth, but I was too angry to take it back. I treated you like another Malcolm and you are the opposite of him in every way."

"I promised to be there for you and, no matter how good my intentions were, I broke that promise. I really was planning to tell you before Blake showed up."

"I believe you." Taking a deep breath I continue, "You should know that I spoke to him. Blake, I mean. About the art show." Phillip's eyes widen in surprise and he sits up a little straighter.

"Yeah?" He tries to keep his expression and voice neutral but the hopeful lilt to his question gives him away.

"Yeah. He tried to talk to me on your parent's porch but I wasn't ready to hear anyone out yet." I smile sheepishly. "Once I got home and cooled off, I realised how much I messed up. With both of you, but especially you." My throat tightens with emotion and Phillip squeezes my hand in encouragement. "Anyway, I thought it through and decided I owed it to myself to hear what he had to say." I take another calming breath then let it out in a whoosh as I blurt, "I'mgoingtodotheshow."

"Did you just say…?"

"I'm doing the show," I confirm with a nod. "Are you mad?"

"Mad? Why would I be mad?"

"Because I flipped out at you over the very thing that I have now agreed to do anyway?"

"You had every right to be angry when you thought I was going behind your back," he replies firmly. "Are you sure this is what you want though? I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you into it. I'll love you just the same if you do this or if you never sell a painting ever again."

My heart stutters to a stop and my breath catches in my chest.

"You love me?" I croak out, surprised.

"I think I've been half in love with you since you first yelled at me in the supermarket. Getting to know you over the past few weeks, it's only made me love you more," he answers earnestly.

"So, it took me yelling a second time to finish the job?" I tease and he laughs. It's only been a couple of days but I have really missed that sound. I've missed him .

"Apparently, but let's not go for a third time," he jokes.

"Agreed." I nod with mock-seriousness before the silliness of the moment fades away to a rawness that is simply us . "I love you too, Phillip."

"Yeah?" He lifts our clasped hands to brush a gentle kiss across my knuckles.

"Yeah." My quiet, almost reverent response acts like a match to a firework—sparks of desire, and hope, and joy lighting up between us. Phillip tugs me onto his lap and captures my mouth in a claiming kiss.

His tongue tangles with mine in a rhythm that drives me wild. My hands grasp at his flannel shirt, pulling him closer. His length hardens beneath me and I shift my weight to grind down on him. Suddenly I'm falling forward onto Phillip's leanly-muscled chest as he loses his balance and lands with a sharp exhale on the concrete floor. My hands fly up to protect the back of his head just in time and I narrowly avoid cracking my forehead on his chin.

A beat of silence passes before we both burst into laughter. The deep, musical sound washes over me and I tuck my face into the crook of his neck as I giggle.

"Maybe the garage isn't the best place for this," I say, making Phillip snort with laughter from where he lies sprawled beneath me, hands resting on my hips.

"Clearly," he replies, one chestnut-brown brow raised, his cornflower-blue eyes dancing with mirth. I shift my weight back to rest on his thighs before grabbing his large hands in mine, helping him sit up. Our foreheads rest against each other as we take a moment to breathe and collect ourselves. My jade gaze meets his and I press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you," I say.

"I love you too. Let's go to bed."