It took Josh a long time to get to sleep. He wasn't used to falling asleep sober in the studio. And next to someone who was going to stay the night.
And it took him as long to wake up. But it was the sound of paint tubes being tossed into the bin that woke him.
Skye was cleaning up. She was standing at one of the large wooden desks in a singlet that barely covered her arse. In one hand, she gripped a mug. The steam rising in tiny little curls.
Her other hand was wandering over the bench, picking out paint tubes that had had the life squeezed out of them. When she found one, she casually tossed it into the bin.
Josh wrapped an arm around her waist and immediately felt aroused.
They exchanged muffled hellos before going back to bed.
He had trouble concentrating and pulled out. She asked what it was, and he apologised because it was going to sound stupid.
She assured him.
"I collect the old paint tubes. Not like collect them. Just don't throw them away. They all mean something to me. In some strange way, they are part of me."
She promised to not throw them away as she pulled him back.