True Art

Chapter Twenty-seven

MATTHEW'S POV

Remi had left me alone for an hour before gently knocking on the door and pushing it open. “Hey. You sure you don’t want to come with me? I’m going to go to a few places, and then we can stop into the bakery, and I’ll get you a coffee.”

I glanced up, trying to stay strong, but the thought of a frothy cappuccino was too much. “Fine. I’ll need a minute to get my shoes on.”

I could have sworn I saw a smirk cross Remi’s lips as I struggled to pull on my Converse. Without saying a word, he strode over, knelt down and tied my laces.

“That’s what you’re working on? It’s stunning. You know, you can paint in the kitchen if you like? I don’t want you poisoning yourself with fumes in here.” He looked up at me, and his face was gentle, the kindness in his eyes as clear as the amber flecks that made me want to dive deep into him, into all of it. Everything. My bad mood disappeared, and I reached forward, running my fingers slowly through his grey hair. He leaned into my touch and trailed a warm hand along my thigh, the heat burning me with need.

“You said I could have anything, including you, but then outside you seemed unsure. I’m so confused.” There. I’d been honest, and now he’d have to explain himself, because if I had to do this for another five weeks, then I needed to know what was happening.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been sending you mixed signals. I don’t really know what I’m thinking. I want to be with you, Matthew, but my head keeps reminding me we’re so different. At stages in our lives where... I’m not sure if I’m being selfish by wanting you.”

What?

“Selfish? How are you selfish for wanting a relationship with me? I don’t understand.”

Remi stood and pulled me to my feet. We were inches apart, his breath ghosting across my skin as he looked at me intensely.

“I’m worried that I’m too old for you in lots of ways. Maybe you’ll feel isolated being with me, and my friends are also older. And you’ll miss the city and your social life. I just don’t want you to regret it.”

My arms trembled as I looked at him. It was time to be really honest. “Remi, I’ve got nothing to miss.”

His eyebrows raised slowly, and he slid his hands gently around my waist and pulled me closer.

I swallowed hard, recognising the look of pity in his eyes as I continued to spill my heart. “I have no money, no job, and no close friends. I’m homeless. Like, really, properly, scary-as-shit homeless. I have no place of my own and no way out. My parents are unsupportive, and I’m so close to quitting on my dream as an artist, you have no idea. And then I met you, and you saw me. The real me. You treat me like a real artist, as though what I’m trying to create actually matters.”

“It does matter. Life without art is like taking the very soul of mankind and distinguishing its flame. We need painters and artists as much as we need scientists and business. You have a place in the world, you just haven’t found it yet.”

“See, it’s when you say things like that... Ugh... That’s when I think we’re perfect for each other.” I leaned into him, shivering, as he slid his arms around me and pulled me tight.

“You’re wrong, by the way. You don’t have nothing. You have your talent, youth, your vision, and those sweet dimples that I adore.” Remi planted a soft kiss on my cheek.

I giggled. “My dimples? Really?”

“They’re pretty amazing, trust me. Oh, and you have me. You really do. I just need time to get used to being with someone so young and gorgeous. But I’d be so proud to have you by my side.” He smiled at me and pulled me against him, sealing our lips together. I groaned as his tongue slid between my lips and sent shivers down my spine.

After a minute, we broke apart and both burst into laughter.

“Right, come on. I’ll take you out and caffeinate you.”

I smiled when Remi held his hand out to me, my heart beating fast as he gripped me tight. We could make this work. I just knew it.