Afterward, licking sugar from our fingers and wandering empty streets, I pulled a can of spray paint from my dirty backpack and shook it. The mixer inside clicked against the metal. “Fancy doing something not exactly legal, little ostrich?”
I waited for her to shake her head in shock, but instead, a dainty smirk twisted her lips. “With you? I’d do anything.”
And I fell head over heels.
No one else could compare.
No one else meant this much to me.
Of course, I’d known for a while now that I was in love with her.
I knew it each time my heart flipped when she wriggled in her seat in front of me in class. I tasted it every time she touched me, smiled at me, cooked for me, and studied with me.
But right there, I knew I loved her to my very core while standing beneath a streetlamp on a dreary English night.
I loved her.
I wanted to keep her.
My life would be infinitely better the moment it was just the two of us.
No matter how much time passed. No matter what shit I put her through, I would always love this girl because she owned me heart and soul.
“So...you’re a secret rebel?” I chuckled under my breath. “Who knew.”
“I’m a rebel if you’re a rebel.” She plucked the can from my fingers and shook it. The rattle made my heart pick up speed. “You’ve done this before?”
“Done what?” I crossed my arms, feigning innocence.
“Graffitied some innocent building.”
I laughed cynically. “No building is innocent. Most of them house monsters. I’m just making them pretty.”
“So you have done this before.”
“Maybe.”
“Show me?” Her sneakers scuffed the pavement as she came closer. So close the gold in her hair glittered beneath the streetlamp and her eyes were more green and stars than hazel and reality.
Without a word, I grabbed her hand, looped my fingers in hers, and together, we jogged to the last place I’d ‘decorated’.
It didn’t take long to get there, but excitement coursed through me to show her how my art was improving. Always improving. And improving fast with the amount of time I dedicated to it these days.
I barely slept. I hardly went home.
I focused on a talent that’d been hidden from me but I never wanted to lose again.
“Oh, wow. Gil...” Olin broke away from my touch, running toward the wall where the trio of colours I’d been able to steal blended together to form a monochromatic landscape of flamingos.
Pink, red, and black were the only colours in snatchable distance when I’d gone to the warehouse that housed art supplies.
I didn’t like stealing, but I had no cash to my name.
I’d pay them back...when I started earning.
Olin’s fingers traced the feathers of the largest flamingo. “This is so good, Gil.” She spun in place, her face alight and eyes full of pride.
I smiled, enjoying her response. “Glad you like it.”
“Like it? I love it.”
“Next time, I’ll try to get browns and fawny colours.”
She nodded in excitement. “To do woodland creatures?”
I shook my head, crowding her against the pink splashed wall. With a hand on either side of her, I trapped her.
I didn’t mean to. It just happened.
But with her imprisoned, my system drenched with hunger that I’d been ignoring for way, way too long.
“Not woodland creatures.” My eyes locked on her lips as she licked them.
Her chest rose and fell, brushing mine with her rapid inhales. The silence of the evening thickened until it hummed with energy. Energy that electrocuted me.
The chemistry that constantly burned between us scorched my veins.
She moaned a little. Her eyelids fell to half-mast, becoming as drunk as I was. “What then?”
Fuck, I needed her.
I couldn’t stand the pain anymore. The self-imposed celibacy when all I wanted was her mouth on mine and my hands all over her.
Bending closer, my brain fogged with lust. My body clawed for more. I leaned against her, her frame flush with mine. I shivered with how goddamn good she felt. “Owls. Lots and lots of owls.”
“Oh.” Her voice was just breath.
“Owls for O. For you. I’ll do an entire portrait with every animal starting with O.”
She melted into my touch as I cupped her cheek and held her still. We stared at each other. Our senses turned primitive...only taste and touch remained.
Her hands landed on my chest, bunching fistfuls of my T-shirt as her head fell back against my graffiti. “Gil...”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think...would you...I mean—”
“You want me to kiss you?”
She shuddered; her eyes closed.
She nodded weakly.
I closed the final distance, her breath so delicate and sugary on my lips. Her skin so soft and her body so intoxicating.
I’d waited so fucking long for this. I’d reached the end of my control.
“O...” I brushed my lips on hers.
Just once.
A simple graze.
But it was enough to punch through my ribs and drag a gasping, bleeding heart out of me.
I groaned.
She moaned.
I struggled to stay the gentleman she knew and not the bastard she didn’t.
Her chin tilted upward, seeking my mouth.
I went to kiss her.
To give in to her.
But then, her phone rang.
Shrill and demanding, it sliced through the thick intimacy that’d bubbled around us, kicking us back into the world like a bucket of ice water.
I cleared my throat, stepping away and adjusting the constant agony in my jeans.
Olin stomped her foot, her face wild and eyes annoyed as she jerked the offending device from her pocket. She paused. “That’s strange. It’s my dad.”
“Answer him.”
It would give me time to get myself together.
What the hell had I been thinking?
Kissing her in a dark alley, alone in the middle of the city? Anything could’ve happened. What if I couldn’t stop? What if I’d done something as horrendous as all the johns who visited my father’s whore house?
I hadn’t even told her I was in love with her.
She hadn’t told me.
I’d promised not to touch her until I was sure she was mine in every way.
“Hey, Dad.” Olin answered the call on the fourth ring. “Yep, I’m good. Uh-huh. Nope. Oh, really. Ah, okay. Yeah, I guess.”
I couldn’t make out what her father said, but by the time she hung up, the strained pressure in my jeans had faded enough for me to be semi-coherent. “Everything okay?”
She shook her head, shock and trepidation on her face. “They want me to join them at the gala.”
“What? Now?” My eyebrows rose. “It’s late. And...you’re not exactly dressed.”
She smoothed down her grey hoodie and jeans. “I know, but he said they feel awkward not having me there. They’ve probably been asked a lot why I’m not there, seeing as it’s kids related, you know?”
“I understand.” I raked a hand through my hair, forcing a bright smile for her. “See? They’re finally realising the benefits of having a daughter.”
She laughed sadly. “Yeah, right.”