'Finnley Felton is suspected to be dating Natasha. They were chummy at the benefit Wednesday. Will keep you posted.'

I bit my bottom lip and opened an instant message to him. Then jealousy reared its ugly head as I stared at the pictures of them together.

J: What the hell?

The little cursor started moving at the bottom and a miniature mobile phone displayed. He typed on the go.

F: Pardon?

J: Two words. Natasha Dragtonsa.

F: You're ridiculous.

J: YOU ARE!!!!

F: Jealous?

J: Angry.

F: Let me guess. Google? That's cute. Can't get enough of me, can you?

I imagined the look on his face, probably smirking.

F: Jealousy will destroy you if you let it.

J: I need to know where we stand.

F: Don't ruffle your panties. It's not my secret to tell, but she's a lesbian. So STOP googling me. You might find more things you don't like. Woman-child.

J: Ass.

F: If I'm the ass, you're the hole.

I had no response. What does a person say to that?

I slammed the laptop shut and pushed it to the side. Luke turned on some classical music and began working. Pianos and violins filled the room as he dipped his paintbrush in blue-white. Brush stroke after brush stroke and the canvas was covered with different shades of color. He took a step back, moved his hair from his eyes with the back of his hand, and studied the canvas. Then he walked to his next blank slate and dipped a wider paintbrush in black, highlighted with a bit of white, and painted that one too.

I curled up and watched him work.

Luke glanced over his shoulder at me. "Boring isn't it?"

"No. You never told me what the project was for."

"In celebration of the French Revolution. A ceremony will take place in July. The museum contracted me to create different pieces to be presented to the founder."

"Wow. That's amazing and kind of like the story behind the Eiffel Tower."

He smiled. "It's not that amazing."

"Just take a compliment for once."

Splatters of paint covered his hands, and his long sleeves kept slipping down. I walked over, and he stopped painting when I stood beside him.

"Do you need help?" I carefully rolled one sleeve past his elbow. Then I moved to the other side and did the same. My fingers brushed across his skin, and he watched me.

"Thank you," he said, and my fingers lingered long enough for him to look at them then, back at me. I sucked in a deep breath and placed my hands in my pockets. The song changed, and I took that time to change the subject.

"This one reminds me of dancing in college." I removed my flats and pointed my toes.

"I would have loved to watch you dance." Luke pulled me toward him. I held my breath because the way he looked at me was too intense. Friend-zone.

"You're distracting me."

I swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Luke released my hand. "Coffee? There's a café on the corner."

"Sure, I'll go get us some."

"Here's my phone. The museum is in my favorites. Call me if you need anything. You really should have brought your phone with you."

"I know. I didn't want to though."

He handed me a credit card, and I left.

I made my way down the street and took in the architecture of the city.

The coffee shop smelled of cinnamon and sweet bread. The menu was in French, but coffee was a universal language that I knew very well.

The woman smiled at me as I ordered one white and one black coffee. I knew it was my accent. All the French seemed entertained with my Southern drawl.

On the way out, a man bumped into me and caused liquid to drip from the small hole at the top of the cups. Dark eyes stared into mine, and I smiled then apologized to him.

I took my time walking back to the museum, sipping my coffee, and admiring it all. Before I rang the buzzer, Luke's phone vibrated. I dug in my pocket and pulled it out as I pressed the button to be let in.

Finny. He calls him fucking Finny. I answered with a 'What?'

Finn cleared his throat when I answered.

"What are you doing, Miss Downs," he asked, incredulously.

"Is that any of your business?"

"You are my business."

I laughed. "Only if I want to be."

"Keep telling yourself that you're in control, because we both know you aren't. Where is my brother?"

When Luke opened the door I handed him the phone then continued to the studio with our coffees. Luke agreed to call his mother. I walked away not wanting to eavesdrop.

"Mum insists we meet for dinner tonight."

"What? I'm meeting your parents?"

"Seems so."

I had no words. Completely fucking blindsided, again. How do I explain who I am? Oh, hi Mrs. Brand, I'm Jennifer, your younger son paid your older son to have sex with me. Might as well tattoo whore across my forehead. Yeah… no thanks.

"Can I skip?"

"No. She knows you're with me and is expecting you. Little tip, there is no getting out of it once Mum has made up her mind."

"Must run in the family," I mumbled.

"I'll be working for a few more hours. If you want, you can go home and get ready."

I took the hint and packed my things. I knew I distracted him, and my thoughts were scattered into a million little pieces. I wasn't ready to the meet the parents.

The walk back to the flat was pleasant, though I couldn't get ahold of myself. Cool air nipped at my skin and a shiver coursed through me. I would soon be meeting the woman who raised Luke and Finn. That alone scared the shit out of me.

Hours, I had only a few hours before we would catch the train.

Fuck, I needed to get a grip.

I threw the suitcase on the bed and shuffled through the clothes I brought. Yes, every girl had a black dress for occasions like this, and luckily, I packed mine. I hung it on the bathroom door and searched for the perfect panties: white lace, elegant and sophisticated in every sense. Underneath my pile of pretty lingerie lay the black pouch. Yes, the one that held little F, as Lori named him. A smile crept across my face as I deviously grabbed it.

Before I flipped my shit, I sat on the edge of the tub and ran the water as hot as it would go. The steam coaxed me calm. The mirror fogged, and I slipped out of my clothes.

Finnley. Hearing his raspy, sexy-ass voice today stirred my emotions. I pulled little F from his suede holster and looked at the purple toy with amazement. Waterproof came highly recommended. But I still couldn't understand what the excitement was about. I had a dildo on legs, and he wanted to fuck all the time. Only problem: he was a thousand miles away, and I was pissed.

I dipped my toes in the tub, and although it was almost too hot to be comfortable, I took it. My skin instantly pinked. I sighed and leaned back. Thoughts of Finn fucking me against the patio door, the look on his face when he handed me the keys to the Aston, the confetti check on the counter…

God, he was a beautiful man—an asshole, but damn, still beautiful.

I turned the vibrator on low and looked at it for a moment before placing it down below.

"Oh, God," I whispered. I sunk deeper in the tub as little F worked his magic on my clit. After minutes, my nipples went hard and every muscle tightened. Before I came, I pulled away and turned off the vibrator. I would tease myself. I wanted it so bad, but I didn't want to come, not yet. My breathing slowed, and I pulled little F from the bottom of the tub and inserted the length into my wetness. I gasped as I turned the vibrator on and moved it in and out slowly.