Effortless (7 page)

He made a deep, satisfied noise in his throat. “Completely,” he
murmured, his smile a charmingly crooked one. I smacked his
shoulder and he peeked an eye open. Seeing that my face was
serious, his smile faded. His finger came out to tuck a damp lock
behind my ear. “I’m fine, Kiera,” he said, his tone more
subdued.

I nodded, burying my head into his shoulder as he put his arm
around me.

I kept a close watch on him for the next few nights, but he
slept soundly from what I could tell. Only the normal nighttime
adjustments that we all made during sleep, not the restless
thrashing that came from nightmares. I didn’t stay with him every
night, but more often than not I fell asleep by his side.

It was comforting for me, having him touching my body as I
drifted into dreamland, but I think it was even more of a comfort
for him. He would pop into my apartment on nights that he stayed
out late, really late, playing other clubs and bars around the
Seattle area. He said he didn’t like slipping into a cold bed.
Well, okay, the way he’d phrased it was, “If I’m going to slip into
a bed in the early hours of the morning, I want it to be warmed up
by your hot little naked body.”

I didn’t actually sleep naked. Not unless he was there to put me
to bed that way. Wearing pajamas was a habit that he was constantly
trying to get me to break, telling me, “Why do you need clothes if
I’m just going to rip them off?” But the gist of his comment was
that he wanted to be warm with me, not cold and alone by
himself.

But after a few weeks of watching him closely as he cuddled next
to me, I stopped worrying about the dreams that sometimes plagued
him. Instead, I started worrying about my upcoming reentry into
higher learning. My schedule this year was the toughest, and I knew
I was going to be studying nearly every waking moment I had. While
I was one of those weird people that thrived on the challenge of
school, I wasn’t looking forward to so much of my free time being
absorbed with it. But Kellan was patient, and a pretty good study
buddy—when he wasn’t trying to distract me with sex—and free for
the bulk of the day since he “worked” nights, so I knew I’d still
get to spend a lot of time with him.

But I meant what I said when I’d told him that I felt more
well-rounded living with my sister, and I tried to hang out with
other people besides my boyfriend. In fact, Jenny had decided that
she wanted to try her hand at art, and had cajoled Kate and me into
taking a class with her. We went every Monday and Wednesday
morning, usually stopping for espressos afterwards.

The Monday before my school started up again was my last class.
If I’d been getting graded on this course, well…I’d have received
my first “F” ever.

“Well, Miss Allen, it’s a very nice use of…color.”

The kind, older woman who taught the course out of her home,
used to teach art at one of the local high schools. She patted me
on the back, her lips in a tight smile, as she complimented me on
the only positive thing that she could say about my elementary
level bowl of tropical fruit. While I’d been working on the thing
for three weeks, it looked like something a six-year-old had drawn
and colored in one afternoon. Artist, I was not.

As the teacher walked over to commend Kate on her perfectly
proportioned apples, I wondered if the retired school teacher had
been around when Kellan was in school. Then I wondered if she’d
been at
his
school. Maybe he’d taken her class. Maybe
she’d been his teacher, complimenting him on his study of the
female form. Instantly I started to think that maybe she’d “taught”
Kellan in more ways than one; a scowl formed on my lips.

A light laughter broke my train of thought and I looked over at
Jenny watching me. “It’s not so bad, Kiera.”

With the end of her pencil, she pointed to my pathetic attempt
at realism. “It’s sort of…Picasso-ish.”

I frowned, but then laughed with her. Picasso wasn’t really what
I’d been going for, but then again, art was subjective. One man’s
garbage was another man’s Monet. Maybe I had a future in it after
all. Looking over at Jenny’s drawing, I reconsidered. No, out of
all of us, Jenny was the one with a future. She’d passed up fruit
bowls ages ago, and was on to drawing people. What she’d created
with just a pencil blew my mind.

She’d drawn the band…our band. It was a close-up of them on
stage—Griffin and Matt on their guitars, jamming away, Evan beaming
with joy behind his drums, and Kellan, singing away on his
microphone. She’d even managed to capture the devilish curl of a
smile that Kellan got when he sang. It was breathtaking, and put my
sad little bundle of grapes to shame.

Sighing, I pointed at her drawing. “That’s amazing, Jenny.
Really, you’ve got a knack for this.”

Her face blossoming into a wide smile, she looked back at her
picture. “Thanks.” Erasing a minute pencil line on Matt’s guitar,
she looked back at me. “I was thinking of having Pete put it up at
the bar when I was done with it.” She shrugged. “You know, as an
homage to his boys.”

She giggled and I nodded. “No, that’s a good idea.” Watching her
perfect a shadow line across Kellan’s jaw, making the masculine
right angle stick out even more, I shook my head. “I think they’d
really like that, Jenny.” She nodded as she went back to work on
it, and thinking of the bassist she was working on, I snorted a
little. “You should probably draw a flasher in there somewhere for
Griffin.”

She laughed. “Yeah, definitely.” Scrunching her pale brows, she
shook her head. “What is up with him and your sister anyway? Are
they together or not?”

Sighing as I turned back to my misshapen fruit, I shrugged. “No
idea. They don’t act like they’re together, and they certainly
aren’t exclusive if they are.” Looking back at her, I shook my
head. “But they, um, see each other at least a few times a
month.”

Jenny nodded, her blonde locks dangling around her shoulders. “I
know. He talks about it whenever they do.” She shrugged one
shoulder. “I asked him once what they were and he said…”

Biting her lip, she didn’t finish that sentence. Not sure if I
really wanted to hear anything Griffin said about my sister, I
raised an eyebrow. “He said what?” I asked cautiously.

Avoiding looking at me directly, she sighed softly and looked
around. I didn’t take that as a good sign. While no one was close
enough to hear her, she leaned towards me anyway. “He called her
his…fuck buddy.” Her lips twisted into a grimace and she rolled her
eyes.

My cheeks flamed red hot and the only coherent sound I could
make was one of disgust. Seeing my expression, Jenny shook her head
again and went back to her pencil drawing of the revolting man.
“Yeah, I know,” she flicked the image of him on her paper with her
pencil, “he’s a tool.”

Adjusting the eraser of the pencil to his waistband she grinned
at me mischievously. “Maybe I should just neuter him?”

I busted out laughing, the entire room of quietly working,
artists-in-training twisting to look at me. My cheeks heating even
more, I dropped my head into my hands and let the giggles take me
over. If only taming Griffin could be that easy.

Kellan and I had the evening off together, so after art I headed
over to his place. Driving over there, I considered how rare it was
for us to get a matching night off, unless I asked for one on an
evening he wasn’t playing anywhere, it usually didn’t happen. As
school was starting tomorrow and I was a bundle of nerves about it,
I began to wonder if Kellan had asked Matt to keep this night open
when he’d lined up the gigs for the month. It wouldn’t surprise me
if he had.

Jenny dropped me off at his place and she and Kate waved
goodbye. I had a car, Denny’s beat-up little Honda, but Anna had
pretty much taken it over. She always asked before she could use
it, but I was actually a little relieved that she did take it so
much. It seemed more like her now than my ex boyfriend. 
Besides, I was horrible with stick shifts.

Kellan was out when I got there, his front door firmly locked as
I jiggled it. As his car was still parked in the driveway, I
figured he’d taken advantage of the beautiful, sunny afternoon to
go for a run. Pulling my keys out of my bag, I flicked through the
ring until I found his. We’d each exchanged keys not too long ago.
“The next step,” Kellan had called it. Stepping into his home, the
coolness of his empty entryway hit me. I set my heavy bag to the
floor with a rush of relief. Knowing I’d probably end up staying
the night here, I’d packed everything I needed for
tomorrow—clothes, books, paper, pens and pencils.

Examining the book bag with narrowed eyes, I took a mental
inventory for the hundredth time. Just as I was wondering if I’d
packed the Lit book that I needed, Kellan’s front door opened
again. I glanced over at him, looked back to my bag, then snapped
my head back to him. He’d gotten hot while running and his shirt
was draped over his shoulder. His lean, toned body was glistening
as he stepped through the door, wiping his face off with the edge
of his tee. His breath was heavier from his exercise, and his abs
clenched and relaxed in such an appealing way that I could not stop
staring.

I finally did when he chuckled at me. “You’re obsessed, you
know?”  he laughed out, scrubbing dry the edge of his hair
with his shirt. I flushed instantly, thinking he meant me staring
at his body all the time, but he raised an eyebrow and pointed to
my bag. “You’re going to be just fine.”

I relaxed, feeling my embarrassment sliding away. Rolling my
eyes, I shook my head. “I know. I honestly don’t know why it twists
my stomach so much.”

Grinning, he turned and shut his front door. My eyes darted down
his bare back to the loose track pants he had on, but I managed to
snap them back up to his face when he turned around again. “I know
just how to get your mind off of it.”

Enjoying the playful look in his eye, I tilted my head as he
came up to me, slinging his arms around my waist. “Oh?” I asked,
lightly resting my fingers on his damp chest, his skin deliciously
soft to the touch.

Grinning crookedly, he raised an eyebrow and looked down my
body. “Yep.” I bunched my brows at the amused look on his face.
Laughing, he released my body and kissed my cheek. “Just let me
clean up first.”

Watching him move around me to go upstairs, I nodded, my lips
still twisted as I wondered just what he’d come up with to occupy
me. Still laughing at my expression, he smacked my bottom before
hopping up the stairs two at a time.

Smiling at him, I shook my head and walked into the living room
to distract myself from the thought of him in the shower. It got a
little hard to do when I heard the water turn on. I had to turn the
television up and force myself to be suddenly fascinated with
marine plant life. 

By the time I actually
was
interested in estuary
ecosystems, even leaning over my knees as I focused on Kellan’s big
screen, he finally came back down. Twirling a lock of hair around
my finger, I didn’t hear him at first. Not used to being ignored,
he grunted and leaned over to kiss my neck. I startled when his
lips brushed my skin, then smiled and closed my eyes. I tilted my
head to give him better access.

“Is this how you’re going to distract me?” I asked lowly,
starting to feel like he could distract me that way all afternoon
long.

Chuckling deep in his chest, he grabbed my waist and pulled me
from the couch in one swift, playful move. “Nope.” Smiling, he
flicked the end of my nose with his finger. “I have a better
idea.”

Taking in the sight of him dressed in my favorite deep blue
shirt, a color that made his eyes seem impossibly beautiful, I
pursed my lips. “You’re not interested in…playing with me?” I‘d
really thought that would be his plan.

His lips curved up into a smile that screamed sex, but he shook
his head. “Oh, I intend to play with you.” Laughing, he grabbed my
hand and led me into the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he added,
“Just not the way that you’re thinking.” Sitting me down at his
table, he leaned over the back of me and kissed my cheek again. “At
least, not yet anyway.”

As I shook my head and bunched my brows, wondering what the heck
we were doing, he started rummaging through his kitchen drawers.
Humming to himself, a small smile permanently on his face, his hair
wonderfully messy and slightly damp around the edges, he opened and
shut every junk drawer he had.

When I was just about to ask him what the heck he was looking
for, he finally made a happy noise and grabbed something shoved in
the very back of a crammed drawer. A crooked smile on his face, he
looked back at me at his table and lifted his hand to show me what
he’d found.

“Playing cards?” Smiling, I shook my head. “Are we playing
pinochle all afternoon?”

Frowning at me, he raised an eyebrow. “Pinochle? Are we sixty?”
His grin returning, he opened the pack of cards, tossing the jacket
back to the counter. Shuffling the cards, he sat down opposite me
at his table. “No, we’re playing poker.”

Shaking my head, I murmured, “I’m really not that good at
poker.”

His smile brightened gorgeously. “Well, that is actually
perfect, because we’re playing strip poker.”