Page 39 of Under My Skin

Chapter Thirty-Nine

LUCY

Well, sex homework completed. If only I could finish his damn logo now. I don’t know why it’s taking me so long. I care about all my jobs, but as simple as this one is, it feels special. Everett deserves something great, and I want to deliver.

I glance at him standing behind the desk under the dim glow of the lamp. He has the sketchbook open in front of him as he runs his pencil over the page. He’s drawing me, like I asked him to. The only stipulation? I have to sit out of reach, and I can’t stare the whole time.

As if on cue, Everett lifts his gaze from the page to find me staring.

I can’t help it. There’s something so attractive about seeing him focused this way.

We lock eyes, and just having his full attention is enough to make me squirm, the heavy heat settling between my legs.

If a man is going to look as good as him, I should be allowed to stare.

From his dark, perfectly mussed hair to his deep, brown eyes, to the black ink decorating both arms .

. . no one would blame him for having an ego, but the fact that he doesn’t might be the hottest thing about him.

He points down at my tablet to redirect my attention, and I bite back a smile as I try to refocus on his logo. I say try because despite having found the right font, all I can think about is what it was like to watch him fall apart.

Focus, Lucy.

It’s just a matter of getting all the letters spaced properly and aligning the words in a way I find aesthetically pleasing. I can handle at least that much.

I’m probably overthinking it.

“How’s the logo?”

Everett’s voice startles me from my lust-infused haze, and I quickly hug my tablet to my chest until I remember he can’t see my filthy thoughts there, only the logo.

He arches an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“You’re great—I mean, it’s great.” I swallow. “The logo is great.”

Amusement shines in his eyes, but he has enough decency not to call me out on my blunder. “Great enough for me to see?”

I peek down at the design before holding it against my chest again. “Maybe?” I wince as the word leaves my lips, already regretting it because I know he’ll take it as an invitation to look at my unfinished work.

He laughs. “Only if you’re ready to share it.”

My shoulders relax. Okay, maybe he won’t wedge open the door I cracked. Craning my neck, I search for the sketchpad. “Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine?”

His gaze trails over me before he says, “Are we still talking about the logo?”

“Yes,” I say with a laugh.

“Damn,” he mutters in mock disappointment.

My smile grows, and his follows before he hands over the sketchbook he had hidden behind his back. “Here.”

My mouth falls open, and I abandon my tablet to the chair next to me so I can take the pad from him.

In a matter of minutes, he’s managed to sketch his view of me from where he stood.

He captured me sitting on this chair with my leg hitched up as I balanced my tablet perfectly.

“I thought . . .” I blink and force myself to look up at him.

“I thought you were just finishing the other one.”

“Oh, I did.” He leans forward and flips the pad to its previous page where he’s finished the portrait of me.

I look between him and the sketch. How did he do that so quickly? Flipping back to the second sketch, I take in every detail that caught his eye while he was drawing.

“It’s rough. I know. If I were going to do something with it, I’d clean it up.”

“ Rough? ’ I shake my head. “Everett, this is amazing. I can’t believe you came up with this so quickly.”

He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “Well, it’s not like I had to come up with anything. The scene was sitting right in front of me.”

“But still!” I balk at him. How does he not realize how amazing he is?

Ignoring me, he reaches for the tablet on the other chair. “You’re the one creating something new.”

My impulse is to snatch the tablet back from him, but I think better of it when he narrows his eyes at me. “I showed you mine,” he mutters as he turns the tablet over to look at what I’ve done so far.

I bite my thumbnail as I wait to hear what he thinks, but before he has the chance, I blurt, “I tried to match your dad’s keychain.”

Everett’s eyes flick up to meet mine before he looks back at the tablet, his expression softening. “I love it.” He says it so simply, like if I had asked him for his favorite color.

His reaction has me second guessing if I heard him right. “It isn’t finished yet.”

Everett’s brows furrow, and he holds the tablet further away. “It’s not?”

When he lifts his stare to meet mine, I shake my head .

He looks back at the tablet and tilts his head. “What’s left for you to do?”

“Fix it.”

He frowns. “It doesn’t need to be fixed. I said I love it.”

I laugh as I reach for my tablet. “That doesn’t make it done.”

He grins as he holds my design further away from me.

“Sure it does.” Leaning over me, he presses a kiss to my lips, and my outstretched arm falls, immediately giving up the fight.

He smiles against my lips. “Thank you.” He kisses me again, and this time, my entire body relaxes.

I don’t understand how someone I’ve known for so long can suddenly have this effect on me, but I love it.

I love how I feel when I’m around him, the familiar and unfamiliar swirling to make an Everett cocktail I could easily get addicted to.

Reaching up with one hand, I let my fingers brush over the dark stubble on his cheek before teasing the hair at the base of his neck.

Everett sets down the tablet and then braces his arms on the back of my chair, boxing me in. His tongue teases mine, and I sit back, letting my legs fall open so he can step in the space between them.

I jump at the sound of someone banging on the shop window, my heart pounding as my head whips in the direction of the noise.

Oh, shit.

“Shit,” Everett says, speaking my thoughts aloud.

“Seriously?” Simon says on the other side of the glass just before pounding his fist against it again. He walks over to the locked entrance and pulls on the handle. “What the hell?”

Everett is already at the door, unlocking the deadbolt.

Simon pushes past him, and I jump to my feet. “Simon, it’s okay!” I say with both hands raised in a poor attempt to calm him down. It feels like we just let a bull into a china shop, and it’s only a matter of time until he breaks something.

“No. It’s not.” His eyes jump between Everett and me before landing heavily on his best friend. “This shit is not okay. I asked you—I asked both of you if there was something going on, and you told me there wasn’t.”

“Because there wasn’t!” I cut in.

Everett looks back at me. He’s so calm. Nothing about his stoic appearance suggests his heart might be beating so hard and fast that he can hear it pulsing in his ears like I can.

Simon shoves Everett in the shoulder. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Everett raises both hands and gives Simon his full attention. “I’m looking at you.”

Simon’s furrowed brows soften slightly, some of the anger melting into betrayal. “What the fuck, man?”

“I’m sorry,” Everett says, wiping a hand over his face.

Hugging my torso, I stay back. Simon is stuck with me. We’re family. If we don’t fix this today, we’ll fix it eventually. It’s more important that he and Everett sort this out.

Simon glances at me, and I shake my head. “It just sort of happened.”

His expression hardens as he looks back at Everett again. “Is that right?”

Everett nods.

“I’ve known you my whole life. You didn’t think it might be a good idea to tell me about this?” He shoves Everett again.

“You’re right,” Everett says, but he still makes no move to defend himself. I don’t want him to fight my brother, but he could stand up for himself. He could defend his actions. He could say something.

I take a step forward. “Simon, it was my?—”

“Yeah. I’m right.” Simon says, ignoring me. “And you know this shit is selfish.”

As soon as I hear the word, it clicks. Is that what Everett thinks? That what happened between us is just him being selfish? Is he not defending himself because he feels like he deserves this?

“All right. Enough.” I step forward until I’m standing between them.

“It’s fine,” Everett says. “He has a right to be mad.”

I glare at him. “It is not fine.” If he isn’t going to stand up for himself, I will. Turning back to Simon, I say, “I’m sorry you found out this way, but I’m not going to apologize for anything else, and neither should he.”

My brother’s lips are a thin line. “How long has this been going on?”

I roll my eyes. “Obviously not that long, Simon. I’ve been here less than a week.”

He looks past me to Everett again. “What the hell were you thinking? She’s upset about everything going on, and you took advantage of her.”

I groan. “Oh, my god. No one took advantage of me.”

His jaw is set when he says, “You might not think so, but he should know better than to pull this shit while you’re dealing with everything. It’s fucking selfish.”

There’s that word again. I wonder if Simon knows he’s hitting the right nerve.

Has Everett talked to him about the guilt he feels with his mom?

Or the shame he carries for prioritizing his healing?

I doubt it. I don’t think Simon would stoop so low, but at the same time, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Simon this angry.

Everett just nods. “You’re right, it was selfish.”

I can practically see him shutting down. Even if he had a good argument to give Simon right now, he wouldn’t. He might be standing tall, but I can see him shrinking.

“Everett,” I say, but he doesn’t look at me. He keeps his gaze locked on Simon. “ Everett, ” I say again.

This time he does give me his attention. “What, Luce? He’s right. I knew it was wrong to keep it from him, and I fucked up.”

I know I shouldn’t be wounded by his words. He’s right. We both messed up when it comes to Simon, but I can’t help wondering if that’s all he regrets. “You fucked up?” I ask, hoping for some type of clarification.

“We both did,” he says firmly.

I’m still not sure what he means, and the ambiguous responses are starting to make my own blood simmer. “Right,” I say as I gather my things.

I look back at Simon. “I’m the one who started?—”

Simon looks up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter.” When his eyes settle on me again annoyance flickers in his features. “Can you go? I need to talk to him.”

I check in with Everett, and he gives me a subtle nod. Nothing in me wants to leave. I want to stay and make Simon understand. I don’t want him angry with Everett over something I did just as much as him. “We’ll talk later?” I ask Simon as I gather my things.

“Yeah. Okay,” Simon says, but he’s still glaring at Everett.

When I give Everett my attention one last time, he looks from Simon to me.

He doesn’t say anything, but the depth of those brown eyes shows me how sorry he is.

I just wish I knew which part of all this he was sorry about.

Heat prickles behind my eyes, and I quickly blink back the tears.

I nod, accepting his silence for whatever it is, but before I leave, I turn to Simon.

“Just so you know, it was my idea to keep it from you.”

Without waiting for him to respond, I head out into the cool night air.

Even as I walk in the direction of my parents’ house while I order a ride on my phone, I can’t help wondering if what Everett and I had is over.

As fleeting as it was, I don’t want to think about a world where he goes back to being just my brother’s friend.