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Why the hell can’t I seem to escape her? It’s not like I lived peacefully before she barged into my life, but I wasn’t getting haunted with images of using her body as I see fit then either. I really don’t need this right now.
My hand slowly curls around the clay flower, ready to crush it, but I can’t do it. It’s too pretty, too much like her. Instead, I place it in the kiln next to my own pieces, wondering if the sight of them all together will bring a smile to her face.
Chapter 5
Wren
After I get in my car, I get my breathing under control, but I can’t start the car until the shaking in my hands subsides. Once I get home, I lock myself away in my bedroom and lay on my bed, starting at the ceiling, replaying every single moment of the day.
Pierce doesn’t leave my mind once.
Finally, however, I get sick of my own looping thoughts, I decide it’s time to at least try focusing on something else. I think about texting Maci, but then I recall one of the goals I set for myself after we got started in our planners. Maci wants to study for at least two hours every night, whereas I want to read something interesting every day for potential inspiration. I sigh, and close my text app, and pull up my browser instead.
I decide to look up an old interview about Pierce and pour over it, marveling at how acclaimed he’s become even though he’s only in his thirties. With a pang of shame, it then occurs to me that I might no longer have a job, so I text Freddy, telling him I think I might be fired. Of course, I don’t tell him it’s because I’d got caught up in a moment with Pierce, but just thinking about it all over again makes me feel hot. The moment replays over and over in my mind, stopping just short of him stepping away, until Freddy finally texts me back.
You’re not fired. Pierce is just a little rough around the edges. He’ll get used to you, and he really needs your help, so please stick with him!
It wasn’t what I was expected, and as I get ready for bed, I find myself feeling confused and nervous for the next day. I finally cave and decide to text Maci, though I feel a little guilty because I might be interrupting her studying time. I’m just so mixed up inside. I really do need this job, and it’s an amazing opportunity. Surely, I can manage not to let my desire for my boss get the best of me, right?
My text to Maci is simple: I hope your new week has been going well so far! Today was good, I finally got to make something in Pierce’s studio. Made sure to read something interesting and feel excited for tomorrow. None of it’s a lie, exactly, but it feels strange leaving so much out. It’s probably better to let it come up organically. I can’t just drop the “I want to make out with my boss and maybe more” bomb on her if she’s busy.
I stay up for a little while longer, but Maci doesn’t text me back at all, so I decide to get some sleep. I’m not sure what tomorrow is going to bring, so it’s better that I rest up so that I’m ready for whatever happens. Snuggling down, I turn my thoughts firmly away from Pierce’s hands, finally falling asleep, only to dream about them.
***
There’s finally a text from Maci when I wake up, but it says only that moving in and adjusting has been a lot more hectic than she’d expected but that I shouldn’t worry. She even said she’d managed to keep up with her studying so far. That makes me happy to hear, but I worry that she’s been having a hard time adjusting.
I push down my concern and try to focus on getting ready instead. I don’t know what it’s going to be like going into Pierce’s studio today, but I want to be as prepared as I can be. I think about wearing the same pants I wore yesterday, but the very thought of them reminds me of his cock as he—
Nope. Better not. I want this job, and even if I’m attracted to him, I still respect Pierce as an artist. I can be an adult about this. It’s what Maci and I are trying to do, after all—stay focused on our goals. And my goal is to learn from one of the greatest living sculptors living right now. I’ve always admired the unabashed freedom and wildness in his work, so it’d be a waste for me to stop doing the internship.
I decide to put on a pair shorts and a soft t-shirt that I find in my shop clothes drawer. The shorts are a little short, maybe, but they’re good for the hot day ahead. I’m already sweating as I walk up the little gravel pathway to his studio. I’m not sure if it’s the heat making me sweat or my nerves at seeing him again, but it doesn’t matter. My heart is pounding as I ring the bell, the uncertainty at how he will react when he sees me makes me to bounce in place as I wait.
Pierce opens the door abruptly and immediately retreats back inside, leaving me to follow and shut the door. I don’t even realize he’s on the phone until his low voice barks out, “That’s not my problem, Steve.”
He listens for a moment, staring at the floor. The dark scowl on his handsome face suddenly intensifies at whatever is said on the other end of the line. Then, he responds, “Look, I don’t care what your client says. I don’t make changes to my work once it’s finished, and I sure as hell won’t alter a piece that represents the wild and untamable nature of fire to make it more symmetrical. Do you even hear yourself right now? You can tell your client he should be honored even to have one of my pieces. My work and reputation are more than enough to make the purchase a valuable investment. If he’s suddenly got buyer’s remorse, that’s his problem.”
Without another word, Pierce hangs up and tosses his phone onto the workbench with a soft curse, crossing his muscular arms over his massive chest. When he turns to me, his expression softens slightly. “Grab the pieces from the kiln and bring them over here, please.”
I’m a little taken aback by the sudden appearance of his manners, since I’d assumed he didn’t have any. I hadn’t gotten a single “please” or “thank you” all last week, nor any this week.
“Sure,” I say quietly, before turning toward the kiln. I’m shocked when find several pieces he must have fired after I left yesterday. Seeing his work like, raw and unfinished, this makes me forget for a moment how attractive he is in his faded jeans and tight black t-shirt. It reminds me once more why I’m here in the first place. His mind is just as interesting as his body.
“You fired mine?” I suddenly ask, shocked to the humble flower I made yesterday sitting next to his magnificent pieces. Next to it is a row of tiny birds, each rendered in exquisite simplicity. “Wow. These are stunning, Pierce.”
He shrugs off the compliment. “I’m about to add the first glaze if you want to help. Or you can keep cleaning the studio.” His stare is focused and intent, making me warm all over, as he waits for my answer.
Did he remember I wanted to learn his unique glaze technique? Or is does he just need to get it finished? Regardless, he’s already done waiting for my answer and has parked himself in front of his workspace, barely noticing me sidle up next to him with pieces as he starts mixing. I get a flutter of nerves about being so close to him, but I have to see how he manages the colors.
“Why did you make birds?” I ask as I watch. “They look like wrens.”
Our arms touch. His skin is hot, his muscles tense. I lean a bit closer to see the feather detail on the wings, my hip swishing up against his. He jumps as if I’m on fire and glares down at me.
“Unless you want a repeat of yesterday, you’ll keep your distance,” he growls.
His eyes lock with mine. I think about how I told myself that this internship is something I needed to appreciate, how I don’t want to squander it. But something inside me goads me to take a step closer.
