I shrugged at Dan. “I don’t think he finds it as amusing as we do.”
“I’ll go help load the dishwasher,” he replied. “Then we’ll take the alcohol out on the deck. That’ll loosen him up. The guy’s too uptight. It’s like he’s always worrying about something, but I can’t work out what it is. He’s financially secure. He has no real dependents, just us two leeches. Perhaps he needs to get laid. Yeah, I’ll bet that’s it!” Parker leaned back and stretched. His tee lifted upwards revealing a dark path of hair from his belly button trailing down and disappearing under his jeans.
There’s no doubt about it. Parker was hot. Now I had to live with two hot guys who were off limits. This place was going to kill me. His talking about Daniel getting laid wasn’t helping me either. Thank god I had masturbated this afternoon or my shorts would be soaked through.
**
Parker had left to start work at the gallery for eleven. I showered, dressed and took breakfast out onto the deck, while Daniel busied himself with loading his truck up with a couple pictures he wanted to take with him. This made me giggle. I guessed that Daniel didn’t trust Parker with transporting his precious paintings.
His head shot around the door. “Are you about ready to leave?”
“Sure,” I told him. “I just need to grab my purse and I’ll be there.”
I followed him out front and climbed into the passenger side of the truck. It was high and Daniel came around and helped me up into the seat by holding my hips. God his hands were only on me for a second but I felt the loss when they were gone. I got dressed in jeans and a tank, with an open shirt, and sneakers today, seeing as I wasn’t sure how big this place was and whether I was going to be doing a fair amount of walking.
We drove in a companionable silence for a while as we listened to some music on the radio.
“So, what do you think of Parker?” He asked me.
I turned to face Daniel, despite the fact he was looking out of the window so we didn’t crash.
“Well, at first I thought he was an arrogant asshole,” I replied. “Now I think he’s a likeable, arrogant asshole.” I laughed.
“You like him, huh?” He asked me. His hands gripped the steering wheel hard and I wondered if there was something I didn’t know about Parker.
“Yeah, don’t you?”
“Sure.” He replied.
“Are you okay?” I asked him. “You seem a little tense.”
Daniel sighed. “I’m fine. It’s just strange, the three of us all being together. Patty’s still playing her games and messing with my life and we were over years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
“No,” he looked at me fleetingly then back at the road. “Don’t ever apologize for your mom, Kayla. None of this is on you. You’re as much of a victim as me and Parker.”
I shook my head. “I’m no victim. My mom can go suck the dicks of wealthy men all she wants. She has no influence on me.”
Daniel started laughing; Big, hearty guffaws that made his cheeks plump up. “Kayla Jackson, watch your mouth.” Then he laughed again.
He turned to me as he pulled up at the parking lot. “I wasn’t one of them you know. She never sucked mine. I need to talk to you sometime about me and your mom.”
He switched off the engine and jumped out of the cab so I didn’t have time to reply. I opened my own door and jumped down, then followed him as he made his way down a sidewalk holding his paintings firmly. The paintings obscured my visual of his face and by the time we entered the gallery the moment had passed, as Parker stood there before us with a grin on his face.
Chandler Square was a pretty place, with its run of white fronted stores with matching green signs above their doors. There was a coffee shop, the ‘famous’ ice cream parlor, and some vintage style shops selling shabby chic. There was also a small restaurant serving home cooked meals. I gazed out of the doorway at the surrounding buildings until a couple customers left and Daniel had moved the paintings so I could step inside the gallery properly. He had named it simply, Scott’s, his surname. Inside the walls were naturally, covered in paintings but there were also some sculptures too placed on display pedestals. Daniel explained that downstairs were paintings and other art that everyone could buy, while upstairs he had a private gallery that had to be booked by appointment. He added that it didn’t get booked much, but he had a few regulars who purchased mainly his own artwork for private sale or to sell on in their own galleries.
I followed Daniel upstairs to look at the more expensive pieces and for the first time, I saw his own artwork. Never one to show off, there wasn’t a painting to be seen in Daniel’s own home and that was a damn shame as his paintings were exquisite. They were explosions of color on canvas, some just swirls of colors meeting each other, others were portraits mixed with the explosion, like a young woman standing holding an umbrella while the vibrant colors rained down on her. There was a heart exploding outwards in further bursts of yellows, reds
, blues and greens.
“Daniel are these all yours?” I turned to him, my eyes seeking his response, my mouth unable to say another word for a minute.
He nodded.
“Wow.” I eventually managed to spit out.
“What are you two doing up there?” Parker shouted, destroying the moment. “I just sold another painting today. Come down we need to celebrate with some coke.”