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She looks up at me, and for a moment, the noise around us seems a hell of a lot quieter.

Her eyes drop to my mouth. There’s no fucking way I imagined it. My hand slides a little farther around her waist before I can stop myself. Romy takes a small step closer, and every thought in my head disappears.

Damn, I want to kiss her.

But then I remind myself what happened the last time I let someone get close to me, and the thought is enough to make me stop. I can’t fucking do this. Not when I’ve known Romy for less than a week and can barely figure out what the hell I’m feeling for her.

I drop my hand from her waist and take a step back. Romy blinks, and for a second, I see the disappointment and confusion on her face before she hides both behind another sip of cider. A group of people squeezes past us, forcing me to move closer to her again, but this time, I keep my hands to myself.

Romy looks around the square as if nothing happened. “So, if Gordy agreed to let me paint him, maybe you could too?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Come on, Otis. You’d make an amazing portrait. I already know how I want to paint you.”

So she’s been thinking about me too.

“You do?”

Romy nods. “Of course I do. I’ve been thinking about it since I met you.”

The thought of Romy studying me closely enough to paint every detail makes me feel all kinds of things. Honored, sure, but also uncomfortable. For starters, I liked myself a hell of a lot more before I had horns.

I shove my hands into my jacket pockets and keep walking. “Still no.”

“You haven’t even seen my work yet.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She steps in front of me, forcing me to stop before I walk straight into her. “What if I show you some of my paintings first?”

I move around her and continue walking. “The answer is still no, Romy.”

She hurries to catch up with me. “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

“I do.”

Romy laughs and turns her attention to the stalls again. “Oh look, hand-painted coasters.”

Apparently, we’re both going to pretend I didn’t almost kiss her in the middle of the town square, no matter how difficult I find it.

Especially because I now know what she looks like when she wants me to kiss her.

Chapter Seven

Romy

“Could you maybe try to stay still for just a little longer?” I ask, leaning around my easel to smile at Gordy. “I promise I’m almost done with this part.”

“But I am staying still,” he says.

“You’re right, you are, but your, um, snakes aren’t.”

I knew painting a gorgon would be interesting, but I hadn’t considered that part of my subject might have absolutely no interest in posing.

“It’s okay, though. I’ll figure it out,” I quickly add before I say the wrong thing and Gordy decides he doesn’t want to pose anymore.

Luckily, apart from moving snakes, everything else about my portrait project is going better than I could have hoped for. Gordy is only the second person I’ve painted since arriving in Screaming Woods, but apparently, word travels fast around here.