“But I did like birds, especially when I found them singing. So instead, I’d watch documentaries about birds, learn about them ... and then ...” I show her a photo of one of my paintings. “This is a limpkin. They’re cute.”
Juliana takes my phone and zooms in, zooms out and really takes her time looking over the painting. I showed a few people and they’d just nod and say it was good. Though I never told them I was the one who did it.
The fact that she really takes her time ... it makes me feel uncomfortably fuzzy. I clear my throat. “It became a habit. Just birds and leaves. I’m horrible at people. I learned that. Stick drawings are better than what I can do. But birds ... I don’t know, it just works.”
“You get so much detail,” She murmurs. “I can tell you really loved doing this.”
“I did.”
She hands me my phone. “Could I commission you.”
“I would rather do it with you,” I say it and almost regret it.
“I’d ruin the painting and you know it. That’s what that face is for.” She laughs. “But I’d be willing to try. We could do a mural in the office I bought.”
“You’d trust me for that?”
She takes my hand. “Max, I trust you to protect me. I trust you to fuck me in rough ways. I trust you to ask you to work with me. Of course, I trust you with this.”
I kiss her hungrily. I pull her closer to me until she’s on my lap. We moan together as I pour all the things I’m feeling into her, all the things I don’t know how to name. When I draw back, Juliana lets out a panting breath.
“And you’re always useful to me. Not that I measure affection by usefulness.”
I smirk at her.
“You’re the first person to ever bring me flowers, Max. Other dates bring me expensive things, jewelry, things that show money. Flowers ... they’re a classic for a reason.”
I hug her tightly. “I appreciate you, Juliana.”
That word isn’t enough and I know it. Every moment we spend together just builds on the last one. A woman that knows her worth, knows what she wants, and still wants to lift other people up, even if it requires a push. Even while she’s experiencing hell.
Juliana’s the woman of my dreams and I might just find my best use, my best ambition, in proving that I adore her every single day.
15
JULIANA
When I wake up, I feel like I haven’t slept at all. With all three of my men here, it should have been the best night of sleep possible, but I tossed and turned, had nightmares, and had to fight the urge to go and join whoever was sleeping in the guest room twice.
I rub my face as I look in the mirror. The bags under my eyes, my messy hair, oh my god, I’m even pale. I groan as I stare at myself. This stress is definitely taking a toll. Next thing I know, I’ll be losing my curves and my temper. I’ll become some kind of wicked witch, warts and all.
So I take my time in the shower, lavishing myself in self care before putting on a face mask, some cucumber eye sheets, and laying in bed for another ten minutes. It does enough to help my face that makeup can cover the rest.
A knock on the door interrupts the very important mascara step. While trying to keep my place, I yell, “come in!”
Konstantin walks in and smiles gently as I finish with my last bit of makeup. I meet his eyes in the mirror. “Good morning, handsome.”
“Good morning. Max left to speak with your father.”
“Phase one is in motion,” I say seriously.
Konstantin rubs my sides and kisses the top of my head, then my temple, and finally steals my lips for a soul-stealing kiss that reminds me exactly how much chemistry we have. I sigh as he draws back.
“Gio’s texting ‘Sharon’ now.”
“The air quotes are appreciated.” I crack a smile, then shake out my hands. How am I sweaty already? “Is it hot in here?”
“Is this flirting or a real question?”