Sindy Kate — Chapter 28

The Eyes Say it All

WESTLEY

AFTER AN HOUR, I walked into the address Clyve gave me. The building was a little bit old, but the space was huge. There was nothing yet to see, but this would be great in a few months.

I was happy for him that somehow he quickly moved on with his life. Cut the crap. I was hurt that he didn’t seem to care about me anymore, but this was my life now—people come and go. Those real and who cared for you were the only one who would stay, like Keene.

I pushed the door open that led the way to the studio. I let my eyes wandered. There were lightings, shelves of color-coded paint tubes, paintings on the wall, two easels on the other side. A table area with a dark couch at the corner with sketch pads, jars of pencils and paintbrushes, palettes, and two paper cups from the Steaming Cafe.

On my left was the opened window, at the far corner was a bookshelf and a plain white wall from my right. He probably prepared it for a mural.

A single bed with a dark blue sheet at the center caught my attention. Before I could take a closer look, Austen walked in carrying two canvases.

“Hey, sis!” He was wearing the same style as yesterday, but he changed from sneakers to work boots today.

“Oh, hey.” I stepped closer to kiss him on the cheek. “Where’s Linton?”

“Right here.” His voice made my heart speed up in unsteady beats. He was carrying a tripod with his camera slung around his shoulder.

“Morning, Westley.” He set the tripod and hooked the camera easily, then took a look at the angle without even looking at me. Great! “Perfect,” he muttered. “I’ll be here, and you can choose the angle you want, Austen.”

Well, a deal is a deal, and I have to deal with him even if he’s giving me the cold shoulder.

“Sure.” Austen moved the wooden easel stand just a few feet away from Clyve’s tripod, then he placed down an empty canvas.

I felt instantly out of place, at the same time, I was amazed at how they became instantly closed as if they did not just meet yesterday.

“Where’s our model?” Austen asked.

“Right here,” I sang, waving my hand.

Austen snapped his head toward my direction, staring at me incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” Clyve answered. “Don’t worry, mate. She won’t be posting nude,” he said half-jokingly.

“Seriously?” Austen was still pinning his gaze at me.

“Yep.” I forced a smile. “Do I really look that ugly to you?”

He chuckled. “That’s not what I meant, sis. No offense, but do you even have experienced with modeling.”

“None taken, but ouch. I made a deal with him. So, shall we?” I jittered.

Honestly, I was more nervous than in front of the camera, knowing I was going to have a photoshoot with Clyve. I didn’t want to be a disappointment. Added to the fact that Austen was about to paint me, and he knew what was going on between me and Clyve.

I suddenly didn’t know where to put myself. This was awkward. The least that I could do was to act like a professional model.

“Very well, then. There’s a sheet inside the room, go ahead, and change.” Clyve pointed to the door. “And I’ll tell you what to do next.”

Thirty minutes later, I was posing at the center of the bed with only a cream satin sheet wrapping around my body. My shoulders were bare, and so as my legs. I wore my hair down that cascaded at my back. I couldn’t help but not tense while Clyve captured me in all angles.

Click.

Click.

I lost count of clicks. My shoulders started to stiffen.

He told me not to move—just my head, and whatever he told me to do so.

At the corner of my eye, I noticed Austen was sitting on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest with his lips pressed into a thin line.

He wasn’t impressed

A few seconds later, he groaned. “You are not a statue, Harry. Show some emotions to that pretty face. Mr. Linton told you not to move, but it doesn’t mean you show us your emotionless expression.”

“I’m already numb.”

I was sure I heard Clyve groan.

“That’s not it. For the love of God, express something through your eyes—your passion, loneliness, love, desire, even your anguish. Look at Clyve.” Clyve stiffened when Austen mentioned his name, but nothing could stop my brother. “Think about him as if it’s just the two of you alone in a dim-lit room while you two are looking at each other, touching at each other, baring your souls...” My mind went to the scene Austen was creating. My body instantly responded, my breathing started to quicken. I could feel my nipples hardened and poked against the thin satin sheet. The heat started to burn my skin, rushing my neck up to my cheeks. I blinked and stared at him in disbelief. “Wait a second. Seriously, Austen?”

There was no way I could do that because right now I felt embarrassed. My skin was burning further the way Clyve was staring at me through that lens as he focused his camera on me. I could sense it, and I did my best not to squirm while every fiber in my body was aware of the intensity of his stare. If my brother was not around, I would be happy to oblige and flirt with him.

Unfortunately, we were not alone.

He stood up. “Yes. I need a beautiful model to paint, and I want those emotions and not the reluctance you are showing to us right now.”

When I looked at Clyve, he seemed to agree with Austen.

I pressed my lips together before I spoke. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Have a problem with that?” my brother asked.

“Yes!” Scowling, I fisted the sheet, stood up, and stormed away toward the room. “I quit!”

“Westley!” Clyve called me urgently.

“I said I quit!”

“This is a bad idea,” I murmured and squeezed my eyes shut as I leaned against the door.

“Westley?” Clyve knocked softly, and he just made the situation more difficult for me.

“Give me a minute.”

“Open the door, please? Let me in.”

Oh, God!

I tucked the sheet securely around my chest and took a deep breath before I pulled the door open. “I know, it was stupid and childish and unprofessional. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do my best next time. It’s just Austen, he gets under my skin. Just give me a few minutes to calm down, okay?”

Clyve seemed surprised by my admission. His eyes drilled into mine, unblinking—the same gaze that haunted me when I thought of our nights together. I was right after all, and he didn’t even bother to hide the emotions clouding in his eyes.

“And seriously? You could just send the address through text, Linton. You don’t have to bother it through email unless you blocked me. Oh no, you called me with your number yesterday.” I crossed my arms over my chest, and his eyes landed to my chest, right to my hard nipples poking against the sheet.

I raised a brow. “Or unless you want to keep everything between us nothing but a business deal?”

He let out a deep breath. “Look, Westley...” He seemed to have trouble forming his words—he scratched his head and pursed his lips tightly.

“Linton—”

He stared at me in the eyes long enough that made my brain freeze. The shiver started to travel down my spine and unfurled to every cell in my body.

“Bloody hell,” he uttered before he grabbed the back of my head.