I’m on a serious mission today, and I’m not gonna waste time arguing. “Give me your keys. I’ll just drop by Home Depot again—”
“Nah, I’m just joking. I think I have some in the bottom drawer.”
My hands fall limply to my sides. I stare at him, incredulous.
“I’ll get you back for that,” I say determinedly.
A smug smile slants across his face.
“I’ll go get the tarp,” he muses.
Half an hour later, we’ve moved the little furniture we have to my room temporarily and covered the entire living room with the tarp. I’ve changed into a high-school art smock and an old pair of shorts. By the time Kayden has put on some clothes, I’m already opening the can of my selected shade of paint.
Kayden’s face twists with disbelief when he peers into the can. “You are not painting my apartment that ghastly shade of yellow,” he says strictly.
“Why not?” I whip around to face him with a pout.
“Does it not remind you of sunshine? Could help warm up that dead soul of yours a little.”
Kayden rolls his eyes at my comment and lifts the paint roller from the floor. He does a slow walk along the cans of paint lined up in front of him, a finger tapping lightly against his jaw in contemplation as he deliberates which color is the best. Eventually, he leans forward to dip his roller into the crimson and lifts it back up. “How about red because you’ve been a pain in my ass lately?”
“You wish.” I click my tongue, dipping my roller into a pastel-blue shade. “Maybe a bit of blue because you need to chill.”
He lifts a brow. “Oh, I need to chill? Says the girl with the revenge quest.” He flicks his roller at my direction, the sudden movement sending paint splattering all across my neck and chest. My mouth drops open when I press my hands against my chest, my palms now smeared with red paint.
“Are you kidding me?” I scowl at him.
“That—that—I didn’t mean to do that,” he mumbles, trying to stifle a smile at the same time. Oh, it’s on. With a wicked grin, I push forward and sweep my paint roller across his chest. The blue paint drips down his shirt, pooling at his feet in a big puddle. When he lifts his head, his eyes connect with mine in a cold, deadly sweep.
“Sienna,” he says, his voice low and threatening. “You did not just do that.”
“I believe I just did.” A coy smile dangles off my lips.
“What are you gonna do about it?”
“Come here,” Kayden growls, shooting toward me.
I laugh, circling around him as he chases me around the living room, his paint roller lashing forward to try to get to me. I duck under the ladder, sliding over to the other side but as if Kayden had anticipated the maneuver, he catches me by surprise by picking up one of the paint cans and splashing it all over me face-first.
I let out a yelp, slipping in the excess paint all around me and tumbling to the ground. Kayden hovers over me, a victory laugh ripping out of him as he continues to drip the remaining paint all over my body.
“Stop!” I wheeze, shielding my face. “All right! I’m sorry!
Just stop . . .”
When he’s done, he tosses the paint can aside. With the remaining energy I can muster, I snatch his hand and yank him to the floor with me. Kayden lets out a yell as he clatters to the ground, splattering himself with the same paint he got all over me.
We’re both drowning in crimson.
The side of Kayden’s large body is now pressed against mine as he props himself up on his shoulders. All the laughter dies down when we realize our faces are inches away from each other. His grin has disappeared, replaced by an unreadable, tense look. His throat bobs as those smoldering eyes trace me, his fingers reaching out to wipe the splashes of paint from my face.
“Sienna.” He breathes my name, a tortured yet hopeful sound.
With just a whisper of my name on those perfect pair of supple lips, my body shifts gears. His face is so close now. My breathing hitches as his thumb floats to my mouth, gliding across bottom lip. I start to lose all train of thought, now squirming with anticipation. When he tries to pull his hand away, I wrap a hand around his wrist, my willpower taking a nose dive as I beckon him not to stop.
My gaze unwittingly falls to his lips.
If I just lean in a little more, I can end our agony—