by Zara Cox
But as the lift hurtled us to the ground floor, another emotion settled in.
Mild dread.
The reason for all of that was waiting to be dissected like an unwanted cadaver. And while I knew we couldn’t avoid discussing the Dan issue, and even grudgingly got an inkling of what kind of family mind-fuckery had driven her into the bastard’s arms, I wanted to spend what was left of the afternoon with Savvie without a crappy atmosphere between us. ‘So, where to?’ I asked, leaning down and kissing her soft mouth, my pulse jumping at how natural, how unbelievably sweet she tasted. ‘We could hit the food first? You feel up to eating now?’
She nodded. ‘God, yes, I’m starving.’
For a moment I wondered if she’d have been able to say this to anyone without judgement. Then felt glad she could say it to me.
I wrapped my fingers around several strands of corkscrew curls. ‘We’ve done the Michelin-star thing. Feel like exploring the other end of the culinary spectrum?’
Her eyes widened. ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘Steamed clam and noodles at the hawkers’ market in Marina Bay?’
She gave a pleasured groan. ‘I’ll have to do double my gym session in the morning but I can’t resist a hawkers’ market.’
‘I can help you with the workout in some other way if you like?’ I whispered in her ear. And earned myself a lusty little shiver and peaked nipples that assured me she was anticipating our next bedroom encounter as much as I was.
‘Hmm, an idea worth merit. I’ll think about it,’ she said saucily as the lift doors opened at garage level.
Without my releasing her we walked towards my car and I held the door open for her. She didn’t get in immediately. Instead, she slid her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine. The invitation was too tempting to resist. My pulse jumped, my hands finding her luscious arse and dragging her closer.
Right from the start, I’d been drawn to Savannah because of her inner strength. Finding out about the insecurities that had plagued her had been a mild shock because I’d been fooled by her outward confidence.
Call me sick, but those touches of vulnerability made me want her more, but it was the unashamed desire to grab what she wanted—like a kiss in an underground garage—that attacked the walls I wanted to build around my more forbidden emotions. The ones that made me question the real reason behind staying away from her all these years. Had I been afraid of this? Where it could go? Whether I would fuck it up?
I shied away from the suspiciously affirmative answer.
But when she flicked her tongue against mine, when she whirled us about and pushed me against the car door and deepened the kiss, I called myself ten kinds of fool for waiting this long to take the risk.
Within a minute, I was hard as a rock. Desperately wishing we were somewhere more private. I wondered how she felt about front-seat sex.
Before I could drag my mouth away to ask, she was pushing off me, depriving me of her insanely gorgeous body.
I remained where I was, momentarily unsure whether my legs would carry my weight if I attempted to stand.
After a few tries, I stood. ‘What was that for?’
Her hand dropped to my fly, caressed the eager bulge in my trousers. ‘You’re not the only one who’s been waiting a long time for our first kiss, Bryce,’ she replied huskily. ‘Be warned that I might jump you every now and then until our little deadline is up.’
The reminder of our deadline soured my mood and sent my mind flying in many unwanted directions as I fired up the car’s engine. Was the reminder some sort of warning?
A sideways glance at her didn’t show the apprehension I felt but who the hell knew with Savvie?
I hated myself a little for that last thought. By all accounts while I’d been lamenting about my dysfunctional family, she’d been going through a hell of her own. Had my blindness contributed to our estrangement?
Chaotic thoughts chased through my mind all the way to Marina Bay.
A wave of heat hit us the moment we stepped out and I tossed my keys to the valet. I was used to the heat and humidity of Singapore, having lived here for a few years.
I glanced at Savvie as she fanned herself. Already a bead of sweat was forming on her upper lip. The sick sex freak in me wanted to lick it off. ‘Are you good to walk? It’s just through the Gardens.’
‘Sure. Lead the way.’
She plucked a pair of stylish shades from her clutch and slid them on and immediately I wanted to object because I couldn’t see her beautiful eyes.
God, I needed my head examined.
The walk took longer than planned because Savvie decided she wanted to wander through the Supertree Grove and take a tour of the Flower Dome. I curbed my impatience as she pulled out her phone and snapped several pictures of flowers she could use in her store for her launch.
The additional reminder that we were on a ticking clock made me shove my hands into my pockets to stop from calling a stop to this grand decision to spend even a second with her outside the bedroom.
Nevertheless, I kept my mouth shut, pointed out places of interest along the way until we arrived at the street food market.
After getting our food, we found a bench close to the water. Savvie lifted her face to the sun and I couldn’t help but stare at the smooth, dark bronze perfection of her skin. Like the sun, I wanted to worship the alluring expanse of her throat, unwrap the delicious globes of her breasts and feast on her nipples. Hell, I wanted to cover every perfect inch of her with reverent kisses—
‘What’s wrong? You’ve been brooding since we left the car.’
I skewered a piece of my chilli crab and held it to her lips. She took the offering but her eyes remained on me, awaiting an answer.
Since I wasn’t going to make an arse of myself by confessing my rampant thoughts, I chose a safer subject.
‘What’s the agenda for the week?’
She shrugged. ‘More of the same. Finish setting up and contacting the agencies I use to make sure my models are all booked. They arrive at the end of next week so it’s imperative everything’s completed so they can start rehearsals.’
‘Can you carve out a few hours for me on Friday evening?’
‘Why?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
She groaned, slid off her sunglasses to blast me with the full force of her glare. ‘Why would you do that to me?’
I grinned. ‘What?’
‘I have to wait a whole week for a surprise?’
‘It’s five days. You’ll just have to trust me this time that it’ll be worth the wait.’
My statement was a little too pointed for her to ignore. And when her eyes shadowed, I knew I’d hit the nerve I’d vowed to avoid just so we could spend a few hours together without the past coming between us.
The water bottle clutched in her hand wobbled. She set it down next to her half-finished clam dish. ‘Wow, I see we’re going for the low blow.’
‘Savvie—’
‘It’s fine.’ She looked around before meeting my eyes. ‘You want to do this here?’
‘I don’t want to do anything.’
‘Tell that to your face. Tell that to your growly voice and white knuckles.’
I glanced down, noticed with an inner grimace that one hand was cupping the other so tight my knuckles were white. Consciously, I relaxed them, took several deep breaths.
‘You’re right. That was a shitty thing to say.’
‘But you meant it, didn’t you? To a degree?’
I couldn’t deny it so I didn’t. Not now I knew that arsehole hadn’t even been able to give her all the orgasms she deserved. My mood took a deeper dive at the thought of why she’d given him the time of day in the first place.
Shit, I was going around in circles of my making, on the brink of spiralling out of c
ontrol.
It was almost a relief when Savvie jumped to her feet and held out her hand. ‘Come on, it’s my turn to take charge of the afternoon.’ Despite her bright smile, I caught the sheen of hurt in her eyes.
I felt a tightness around my sternum I attributed to everything else but the fact that I hated seeing that look in her eyes. To make up for it, I let her drag me towards the nearest street while she toyed with an app on her phone.
The taxi pulled up within seconds. ‘Where are we going?’
‘It’s a surprise,’ she lobbed back.
I sighed and leaned back against the headrest. I saw her watching me but I couldn’t gather the energy to make idle conversation. And if there was one thing I could count on it was comfortable silence with Savvie.
Had everything really changed as irrevocably as I’d insisted or was I simply pushing that agenda so I wouldn’t experience that stupid bewildered anger when she left again this time?
Bloody hell—enough!
I suppressed my frenzied thoughts as the cab pulled up to another street corner. Savvie jumped out, muted excitement in her eyes.
I looked around as I joined her on the kerb. ‘Where are we?’
‘You’ll see, come on.’
I threw my arm around her waist to anchor myself to the present and let her lead the way. Two streets later, I realised where we were.
Kampong Glam.
Specifically the Sultan Arts Village. Home of street art.
‘Have you been here before?’ Savvie asked.
I shook my head. Surprisingly, I’d heard of this place but never visited.
She smiled as if gifting me with this place made her happy. I wanted to grab that happiness, bottle it exclusively for myself. But could I count on it?
I left that thought alone as the click-click-click of a spray-paint can being shaken hit my ears.
The village consisted of a few streets where graffiti was legally permitted. Wide, tall walls served as artists’ canvas and about a dozen or so people were already hard at work creating their masterpieces on the walls.
‘Wanna have a go?’ Savvie asked.
I couldn’t resist the twinkling in her eyes so, of course, I nodded. ‘Sure.’
We headed to the shop for supplies, then walked until we found an unoccupied wall.
‘Is it worth saying curb your competitive spirit and don’t put me to shame?’ she asked, tongue-in-cheek, her yellow spray can poised three inches from the wall.
With a light breeze ruffling her unbound hair and outlining her stunning body I could’ve stared at her all day. Resolutely, I redirected my gaze to my section of the wall. ‘Nope.’
Although my major had been in architecture, I’d minored in art design, primarily so I could be in the same class as Savvie. I’d never told her that and I didn’t intend to. She’d taken up enough of my angsty thoughts already.
Without hesitation, she plunged right into her mural, not one ounce of the insecurity she’d admitted to in bed showing as her arm swung back and forth in bold swipes.
She wore the front well. A little too well?
I frowned, my thoughts attempting to deepen once again without permission.
‘Are you going to stare at that wall all day?’
My forefinger hit the nozzle, and, with a little relief, I let my subconscious run free.
Savvie didn’t glance over at me once, her focus totally absorbed in her work. I was torn between admiration and irritation. None of the other women I’d dated before would’ve ignored me quite so totally. Hell, no other woman would be seen dead in this part of town frequented by poor artists, gap-year students and hippies.
The novelty of it finally seeped in. There was something wildly cathartic about spraying my frustrations on a wall and the hour passed in a blink.
When I eventually took a breath and stepped back, I wasn’t altogether surprised at what I’d unleashed. But more than that, I was interested in what Savvie had drawn.
I glanced over. She was standing six feet away from the wall, her eyes riveted to what she’d painted, her head slightly tilted as she exhaled roughly. Catching my stare, she glanced at me and I caught the sheen of tears in her eyes.
‘Are you all right?’
She gave a half-hearted shrug, then nodded. ‘Yeah.’
Although it was a public space, I felt I was encroaching on a private moment.
‘Am I allowed to see?’
She swallowed, then nodded.
Setting my can of black paint down, I joined her. Unable to resist, I kissed her temple, then I looked over at her section of the wall.
The scene was set on a beach, a solitary female figure sitting on a windblown dune, watching the sun rise through black clouds, frothy waves and a turbulent sea.
Despite the chaos, a beam of sun illuminated her face, its path unbroken by the darker elemental forces around it. The connection between the figure and the sun was almost sacred, a codependency so heartbreakingly beautiful, the grip on my sternum intensified.
On a stunned breath I realised the source of my turmoil.
I’d wanted to be that connection for her. I’d wanted that codependency even before I spoke to her for the first time outside the school library all those years ago. But other forces had intervened, not least of all something inside me holding me back.
That force was still there. Unexplored but throbbing, fed by unresolved issues.
But yes, also by forces she’d let happen. Forces she’d let control our personal painting. We needed to talk about that but for the first time I hesitated. If we managed to get past that, then what? What would our new landscape look like? Would that beam of light illuminate my own failings?
The strong likelihood of that churned hard in my gut.
‘You like it?’ she asked huskily, dragging my attention from the mural and my own dark thoughts. That small but mighty ray of hope on the figure’s face was reflected on Savvie’s and it brought a weird lump to my throat.
‘It’s breathtaking,’ I replied simply. ‘Everything you do is breathtaking.’
A teary smile broke on her face and I wanted to kiss every drop away.
‘Shame we have to leave it behind. But the rules are the rules, I guess,’ she murmured.
I vaguely remembered that most of the paintings lasted anywhere from a few hours to a week before another artist painted over them. The thought of her work disappearing under a fresh coat of spray paint made my teeth ache.
I took out my phone, took a few more steps back and took a picture. Even through a second-hand medium it was stunning.
‘At least you’ll have this.’
She nodded. ‘Can I see yours?’
Feeling half defiant, half stalker, I led her to my section.
She gave a soft gasp. ‘That...that’s me... And that looks like...’
‘Your favourite place at the top of the rugby stand, noise-cancelling headphones on, scowling into a book and at anyone who so much as glanced your way. That’s how you looked the first time I saw you.’
Her mouth dropped softly open. ‘You saw me?’
My head jerked in a nod. ‘Every time.’
Her gaze returned to the painting, drifted over the school-issue dark green hoodie and darker clothes she used to favour, probably because she thought it made her unobtrusive.
‘How?’
‘You weren’t as inconspicuous as you thought.’ I trailed my fingers through the dark brown-and-gold hair. ‘This, for starters. There’s just so much of it, no matter how hard you tried to hide it under a hoodie.’
She elbowed me in the ribs. ‘I meant how did you see me over the clamour and adoration of your rugby groupies and intense bro-loving?’ she asked, tongue-in-cheek.
I didn’t smile back. ‘I always wondered why you didn’t use the library in the
afternoons like you did in the evenings.’
She grimaced. ‘At that time of the day, it was tedious. I couldn’t sit five minutes without someone coming up to pick my brain about something. It was more disruptive than it was worth. That spot on the bleachers was much more peaceful once you lot left.’
I didn’t tell her how distracting her presence had been. How I couldn’t resist glancing up there every chance I got, only to find her scowling into her book. That, even visibly annoyed with everyone around her, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. ‘Hmm, that’s the price you pay for being a brainbox.’
She stepped closer to the wall, reaching out as if to stroke it. ‘I wish I could touch it,’ she said longingly. ‘But I don’t want to ruin it.’ She stared at it for another minute before she turned to me. ‘You think it’ll be here tomorrow?’ she asked, a sad note in her voice.
I shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
She took out her phone and repeated my gesture, then we stood in semi-comfortable silence for another few minutes.
A light breeze blew through the alley. She reached up to brush her hair back and left a streak of faint yellow paint on her cheek. I glanced at my own hands, saw them covered in black, dark green and grey streaks.
‘You ready to go?’ I asked, suddenly wanting to get away from here and all the inner questions now amplified on a wall.
She put away her phone and gave a solemn nod.
‘Wait, you have paint on your cheek.’ She reached up before I could use the unblemished part of my hand to wipe it off, and left several more streaks. ‘You’ve just made it worse, rosebud.’
Surprised, she looked down at her hands, then at mine. And laughed. ‘How would you have made it better with those hands?’
A reluctant grin attacked my lips. ‘Guess we’ll never know. Let’s go.’
The atmosphere was lighter as we left the artists’ village and found a cab. The paint had dried on our fingers by the time we arrived at Marina Bay to pick up my car but we were still too messy to stop at any upmarket restaurants. By mutual agreement we decided to order takeout.
My phone rang as we entered the apartment. The name on the screen made my stomach drop.
