Draw Me In by Megan Squires

sure what it was.
    All
I knew was that I needed him to do it again.

 
    CHAPTER
SEVEN

 
    “ Honey, I ’ m home! ” I would have thought it was Ricky
Ricardo had I not been expecting Ian.
    The
front door slammed into place, shaking the panes of the windows in the loft in
a metallic rattle.
    “ In my bedroom! ” I shouted. I rubbed the tired pads
of my fingers together. Deep gray etched into my fingerprints, a swirling
abstract maze of skin and graphite. Pursing my bottom lip, I huffed a gust of
air to lift my bangs from my forehead and shook the loose strands free from my
eyes.
    “ Hey, Love, ” Ian said, one arm hooked around my
doorframe, the other hand holding up a brown paper sack from Lee Wong ’ s Chinese Food, the restaurant
located across the alley. The tangy smell of sweet and sour pork mixed with
fried wontons filtered into the room, causing my neglected stomach to roll with
a deafening growl. “ I
grabbed us dinner. And Joshua ’ s
coming over, if that ’ s
okay. ”
    “ Of course it is. But only if you
share. ” The hunger in my gut took over and wouldn ’ t
allow me to continue doing anything else until I satiated its noisy call. I
slid my drawing pad off of my lap and rested the pencils on my nightstand.
    “ Share the food or Joshua? ” Ian winked and placed our bag with
dinner onto my dresser, thumbing his chin as he approached my bed and said, “ Well, what do we have here? ”
    “ Nothing. ” Quickly, I drew up my quilt over the
notepad and buried it under the folds of the patchwork fabric. I wasn ’ t done and wasn ’ t ready to share it with anyone. Or
maybe I wasn ’ t
ready to explain myself. Either way, I just wasn ’ t ready.
    “ That, Jules, is not nothing. ” Ian pounced onto the mattress and
flung me aside with ease, ravaging the comforter for my latest sketch. He didn ’ t seem to care that I obviously tried
to hide it from him, and he tore back the cover to reveal what I ’ d spent the past eight hours
perfecting. Only problem was, I hadn ’ t
come anywhere near close.
    “ Holy hotness, Love! ” I could see the pulled furrow of his
brow as he analyzed the image held between his fingers. “ I thought you were done with your art
imitating art phase. ” He didn ’ t
look to me as he spoke, but continued dragging his eyes over every inch of the
drawing, the paper rustling in his grasp, echoing the choppy, embarrassed
breath that filtered out of me. I thought for a moment that I should dig out my
inhaler, because my breathing really had been all over the place lately.
    Ian ’ s gaze slid across the shoulders,
both bare and broad, two mountains hovering powerfully over a solidly formed
chest. The variance in pressure of my pencil markings created six distinct dips
and valleys across the muscled abdominals, flanked on either side by the
perfection of man in the form of that strong, etched V which I had yet to learn
the proper name of. Crosshatching detailed the fabric denim material that so
greatly contrasted the smooth, almost polished skin. It was only shoulders, a
torso, and a little bit of jean clad hips, but it took Ian a good minute to
truly take it all in.
    “ Thought you were done with your
statues, Jules, ” he said, finally. “ Though
I ’ ve never seen a statue wearing jeans
before. ”
    “ It ’ s not of a statue. ” I pulled the paper from his grasp
and shoved it back into my folder.
    “ You ’ re telling me that man exists in
reality? Because if he does, I might just have to call Joshua and tell him not
to come over. I think a man like that is worth meeting. ”
    I
rolled my eyes, knowing what a flirt Ian could be, and also knowing that he ’ d never toss Joshua aside that
quickly. He was all he talked about since their date last night.
    “ You ’ ve already met him. He spent all day
in front of your lens, Ian. ”
    “ Leo Carducci looks like that under his finely tailored suit? No
way. ” Ian laughed, and then said, “ He ’ s all GQ on