From Bully To Beloved

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I’m about to tuck myself in on my couch when I realize I’ve forgotten to get my clean uniform out of the bedroom. I usually try to get it before I go to bed so I don’t have to wake Coltonup in the morning when I’m getting ready.

Well, hell.

Hopefully, he’s asleep already and I can sneak in, grab what I need, and get out.

Easing myself off the couch, I quietly make my way down the hall.

Under the door, I can see that the light is still on, and I knock softly.

“Cal, you awake?”

I hear nothing, and when I test the doorknob, it isn’t locked. I knock again, a little louder this time.

Nothing.

Certain that he’s asleep, I quietly poke my head in.

Okay, I admit, now I’m being nosy. But only a little bit.

The room is bathed in soft light, and Coltonis out cold in the middle of the bed. I notice how neat and tidy he keeps his side table, really the whole room. There’s only what appears to be a thick, shiny business-oriented motorcycle magazine next to the clock, Revved Upor something. His phone lies next to his hand as though he passed out without meaning to. He’s shirtless, with the comforter wrapped around his waist, his muscled legs sticking out the bottom. He’s facing away from the door, but even without looking at his face, I know he’s fast asleep by the soft rise and fall of his tattooed chest. His image is one of utter relaxation and comfort.

Inspiration strikes hard and fast.

I have to sketch him. This will be the sweetest revenge ever. Tit for tat. Colton Ashton captured for eternity by the woman whose drawing he burned as a child. Yes!

Quickly, I tiptoe back to the living room, dodging the squeaky parts of the floor like some deranged creativity-driven ninja. I dump my bag out onto the floor and grab my sketchbook and a pencil.

When I get back to the door, he hasn’t moved.

Perfect.

He looks great exactly how he is. I push the door open a little more, pausing when it lets out a quiet squeak. I freeze, and Coltonshifts a little before settling back down, still asleep. I don’t trust myself to breathe a sigh of relief.

I slip into the room all the way and begin to sketch him. My hand moves across the page on its own, starting with the basic outline of his sleeping form and then getting more specific. He’s gorgeous.

I’ve studied the human body, and I’ve never seen one as perfect as his.

Hell, this isn’t even the artist talking. This is Seraphine talking. In this low light, he’s the most stunning vision of masculinity I’ve ever seen in my entire life. One word: chiseled. All I can hope is that my drawing can do it justice. Creativity takes the wheel, my hand moving quickly across the page almost on its own.

I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this struck by inspiration. It’s been a while, for sure. It’s like my hand has a mind of its own.

I’m putting the finishing touches on the shadows around his body when he shifts again. I don’t stop drawing, too far along not to finish what I’m doing. However, when I glance up from the page, the new visual is enough for me to come crashing back to reality.

Instantly, I freeze, my hand gripping the book tight enough to turn my knuckles white.

The bed cover has slid down a teensy bit further, now revealing his “V.” Sweet Jesus. There’s a vein trailing down right at the edge.

I’ll be mortified if he wakes up and catches me drawing him.

His face turns my way, and I let out a sigh of relief to see he’s still sleeping.

Thank you, Universe.

I amentirelyunprepared for him to roll onto his side, letting the comforter slide all the way down. Because that’sexactlywhat he does andexactlywhat happens.

My pencil snaps, my grip even tighter than it was a second ago.

Oh. My. God.

He’s not partially naked. He’s fully naked.

My brain short-circuits and all thoughts fly out of my mind.

That’s…yup, that’s his dick. I’m staring directly at his dick.

I should look away.

Seriously, Sera, look away.

Do not be nosy!

I turn my back on him, clutching my red sketchbook to my chest. The drawing isn’t done yet. I can’t leave it unfinished, but I also can’t just stay here staring at him naked.

No.

I can’t do something crazy, like finish the drawing.

Right?

Thankfully, I’m able to make it back to the living room without Coltonwaking up. That would’ve been one for the books. Shoving all my art supplies back into the bag, silently, I shut off the light and bundle myself up in my pile of blankets.

“It’s fine. It’s just a naked man. You’ve seen a naked man before. And a dick. Stop acting like it’s a big deal.”

Big.

Oh, God, I’m so screwed.

Andnotin a fun way. Unfortunately, telling myself to sleep doesn’t work.

I don’t get much rest that night, and for once, it has nothing to do with the couch. Every time I close my damn eyes, I see naked Cal.