The Revolution by S.L. Scott

near the island, but I feel the weight of his gaze on me, coating my insides in ways that feel new and exciting. Slowly I glance over my shoulder and find his eyes directed on me, an indiscernible expression on his handsome features.
    His phone rings, shattering the building intensity and I start breathing again. When he looks at the phone, he says, “I need to take this. Feel free to walk around. I’ll catch up.” He walks to the back door and answers his phone. “Hey, what’s up?”
    I take the opportunity to check out the rest of the first floor. The house really is stunning. It doesn’t shout showy or celebrity. It’s not a home most twenty-six-year-olds would choose when coming into a lot of money. It’s large, but the perfect size to raise a family and have room to grow. I can see a lifetime spent in this home, changing with the different stages of life. It’s not just for show or to flaunt his wealth. Unlike some… I’m impressed with his refined taste.
    When I go upstairs, I start in the master bedroom. It’s the most important room on this level and will need the most attention to detail. There are several large windows facing the backyard, which appears to be at least two acres, if not more. The view is spectacular. Downtown visible in the distance. Prime old Hollywood real estate.
    “The house feels good, right?”
    Staring out the window, I agree. “Very good. It’s warm.” I turn around and find him leaning against the doorframe. “It’s a great home. I’m getting house envy.”
    He chuckles. “You’re welcome here anytime.” Moving to the en-suite, he asks, “Have you gotten the measurements you need?”
    I haven’t gotten any. I’ve been way too distracted. “Actually, I’ll send Lane out to do that tomorrow if that’s all right. He’s my right-hand designer.”
    “That’s fine.” Running his hand through his hair, he questions, “What are you thinking construction wise? Much to remodel or do you like what you see?”
    Looking him in the eyes, I reply, “I like what I see, and I also like the house.” A perfectly imperfect smirk resides on his face. It’s startling how disarming it is. I make a move to leave and pat his chest. “See? Two can play that flirtation game.” I leave him in the bedroom with the sound of his laughter bouncing off the barren walls.
    When the tour is complete, we end up in the living room. It’s all good until my stomach decides to let the world know I’m hungry. “How about we eat?” he asks. “I brought salads and sandwiches, soups, crackers, some cheese and sausage, grapes, strawberries, and dessert.”
    “That’s a lot of food.”
    “I didn’t know what you’d want so I bought most of the menu.” He takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen where the bags cover one of the countertops.
    “You’re very thoughtful. Thank you.”
    Kaz hops up on the counter and reaches into a bag. He pulls out a handful of grapes and pops one in his mouth. “Tell me how this works.”
    I hand him a strawberry while I hold on to another. “Usually you take it and touch it to your lips like this.” The strawberry glides over my bottom lip. “Then you bite it.” I take a bite, then lick the juice that’s about to drip from my lip.
    His mouth is hanging open before he says, “I meant working with a designer, but I like this a lot more. Continue…”
    I laugh out loud. “Ohhhh. Well, since you know how to eat a strawberry, let’s talk business. My designs depend on what the client wants. You have a Mediterranean home style wise but maybe you want a modern interior or maybe you want to match the home and bring out the home’s unique features. Or maybe we can highlight what makes you so unique. Personalizing a space is always the best. You’ll feel more comfortable when you’re home. What do you want?”
    “I want you.”
    “You’ve got me. I’m here. We’re talking about the house just like we planned. I’ve already talked to Lane about