COMMISSION. vol. 2
SUMMARY — rhett fixes the back door while you try to watch his parent's wedding video... mostly you space out. then, reality smacks you in the face... a couple times. PAIRING — rhett abbott x fem!tillerson!reader WORD COUNT — 8.1k WARNINGS — swearing, allusions to reader being shorter than rhett, ivy is a hardcore shipper, drinking, mentions of past use of marijuana, familial fighting, no use of y/n — is referred to as ms. tillerson, little sister & warlord, rhett being a tease gentleman, crying, fear of disownment, ivy being the best hypewoman & friend, writing this made me realize how much i use em dashes,,, i am okay with that (there's a lot of them), kissing, trevor, luke & billy being good brothers—but also bastards, arguing, angst, soft!rhett near the end A/N — i came to the realization that i don't think i've actually written any kissing scenes in like 2-3 years so i'm sorry if it's cringe. but thank you for all the love on part one!! i really appreciate it and all of you <3 i hope y'all like this part, and hopefully i'll have part 3 up next week sometime!!
MASTERLIST
"alright, i want details and i want them two hours ago," ivy says, settling in the chair rhett had occupied just a few short hours ago.
luke had literally just left, he'd stuck around to grill you about rhett's visit, and then promptly reminded you who your loyalty should be to. the totally shocking (not at all shocking), impromptu verbal power point concluded with a pointed glare and a grunted, "you're a tillerson—act like it."
"what did the king tell you?" you ask, because you know that luke wouldn't just not prattle on about it, even if you weren't there to hear it.
"abbott's bad. tillerson's good." she says in a caveman voice, then rolls her eyes.
"oh, great you're all caught up. did he give you the full history?"
"oh yes, it was thorough."
"fun..." you reply, and she gives you a look that says "go on" and you sigh. "rhett and i went to high shool together, had mutual friends. we get along, we're not friends or anything."
"oh puh-lease he either has the saddest eyes i have ever seen or he's in love with you." she fires back, and your mouth drops open. "his eyes never left you. i mean when he was looking at the wood, yes, but when you were moving the cabinet— girl his eyes were on you."
you feel kind like someone slapped you, or threw ice water at you. you stare at her, you're really not sure what to say to that, and you sure as hell don't believe her.
"and!" she nearly shouts at you out of excitement, "he talked himself into doing more work for you. he could have just said "thanks" and carried on. he wants tohave an excuse to be around you!"
"no— that was just rhett being rhett. he's right, they don't really equate—"
"stop being logical about this. he likes you. he likes you."
you open your mouth to protest, but she jumps up, and dives out of the room.
"NO." she yells, her voice muffled by the wall between you.
you stare at her through the glass wall, eyes narrowing as she busies herself on her computer at the reception desk. she's insane. you love ivy, she supported your art when your brothers weren't all that impressed with your divergence from the family legacy, you really do. but she's legitimately batshit insane sometimes. like, she's literally dating your brother luke. this is one of those moments. at least that's the file you're choosing to file it in. she pops up out if her seat, and scoots over to your open door.
"did he get your number?" she asks, and you raise your eyebrows at her, she squeals. "he already had it, didn't he?!"
she cackles like a witch, and yanks the door closed behind her as she leaves you again. and yet, you're somehow the weird one. you shake your head, then decide to leaf through your portfolio. you open it across your desk, and flip through. when you get to the picture of rhett, you squint at it. the shot had been mid buck, his free hand raised high above his head, the curve of his shoulder, the intensity in his posture. no, not a single chance in hell rhett actually saw this and knew it was him.
you laugh, and flip back to the group photo and your blood runs cold. you didn't even notice it before—why would you?
rhett was wearing the exact same shirt in the group photo.
your boots click against the marble floor as you walk deeper into your childhood home, you don't miss it. not really. there are stuffed animal heads on nearly every wall, which always makes a shiver run down your spin. you hate them. they're fuckin' creepy.
"you're early," luke comments, leaning against the railing leading to the stairs.
"yeah, well i have someone comin' to fix the back door. so i kind of have to be at the studio to let them in," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest.
"trevor and i could fix it tomorrow," luke offers, his grip on the railing tightens a fraction of an inch.
"like i said; i have someone comin' already."
"ivy told me—seriously, abbott?"
"jesus luke, don't fuckin' start. i get it okay. you don't want me hanging around him, but i'm an adult—i can make my own goddamn decisions."
"even if it's hurtin' the family?" he asks, eyebrows raised, lips set in in thin line.
he throws that around so often you're starting to resent the sentence all together. it might have worked to keep you in line in high school, but you don't feel that same guilt like you used to. when you'd moved off to new york you'd experience true freedom. no one barking at you about how to sit, when to speak, no one lying to you to keep you safe or whatever the excuse happened to be. no manipulations. no endgame. no power struggle. just, free, honest living. if you didn't love your hometown so damn much—and billy, mostly—you might just buy yourself a plane ticket and go back. because it might have only taken a couple of years, but you were starting to remember why you'd left in the first place.
you scoff, "i'm not hurtin' shit, but you—you don't see the damage you do every time you throw that at me."
you don't give him time to reply, you just breeze past him, taking the stairs two at a time. you find billy sitting at his keyboard when you get to his doorway. he smiles at you softly and you sigh.
"little sister,"
"billy," you nod, dropping onto the edge of his bed. "how much did you hear?"
he shrugs, "all of it,"
you roll your eyes, but nod, throwing your weight backwards so you're laying back staring up at the ceiling. you hear him humming softly, and you take a deep breath. billy has always been your anchor in the family—you might have cut them off a long time ago if not for him. he always listened to without judgement—something that was a luxury in a small town like wabang, and even more so in your own family. you quickly learned growing up who you could tell what, and how you'd have to say it. with billy there wasn't any of that mental chess, just, honest open discussion.
"you ever wanted somethin'—someone—so bad that it makes your chest ache? like, a smile in your direction makes your whole day, their eyes landing on you makes you feel seen even if they didn't say anything to you?" you ask softly, and billy stops humming.
"yes," he replies, his voice equally as soft as you force yourself up onto your elbows so you can look at him.
"what do you do if everyone in your life is telling you to run in the opposite direction, shove it all down, ignore it? what do you do when you've been doing that for years, and it's slowly killin' you?"
he stares at you, you can see the gears turning in his head, and you wait. you know he knows who you're talking about. he's known since the painting. billy is a lot of things—stupid is not one. spacey, sure, but boy does billy notice more than most.
"you either let it kill you," he says, twisting on the bench to look out the window behind him—towards the abbott ranch no less. "or you ask for forgiveness when all's said and done, and hope that it all works out."
your phone chimes softly around 7:45pm, just as you're finishing up the last of your dishes. you rinse the last pot, laying it to dry. you quickly turn, and wipe your hands on the tea towel hanging from your stove. you pick your phone up from it's spot on the counter, and your heart skips.
here - rhett
you look down at your clothes, you'd long since changed into your pj's—just a plain loose fitting t-shirt that you'd cut the neck off, and a pair of black plaid shorts. was this professional? no. should you change? yes. are you going to? not likely. today was hard. you sigh, then glance in the mirror hanging by your front door. your hair is in relatively good condition, so you shrug and step out into the small hallway leading downstairs.
you slip from the hallway into the waiting area, and find rhett standing at the front door with his hands in his pockets and his back to the window. you'd pause, god he's good looking even—especially—from this angle. you pause momentarily thinking about smacking yourself, but then he turns to look at you through the window. he shoots you a smile, and you force yourself forward.
"evenin'," he says when you slip the door open.
"evenin'," you reply, "uh, what do you need from me? anything?"
he shakes his head, "just gotta move the shelf back, my truck's already in the back alley."
you nod, and shuffle out of the way to let him in. he scoots past you, his chest brushing against your arm. sparks shoot through you, as you step back a little further, watching as he walks into the back. you shove the door closed, locking it again and you turn. dear god woman, get your shit together. it's just rhett.
he pokes his head back out, "gonna need your help,"
"okay," you say, voice coming out much too shaky.
you head back to where he is, and help him shuffle the cabinet out of the way. he peels off his jacket, laying it on one of the tables, and you can see the muscles underneath his white shirt contract as he removes the door. easily might you add, like stupid easy. just lifts it like it's nothing, and you find yourself briefly wondering if he'd be able to pick you up that. then you cough, and he glances back at you. your face and neck burning.
"do you want something to drink? coffee? beer? water?" you ask, eyes catching on his bicep, then quickly turning your eyes away from him altogether.
"uh, a beer would be nice," he tells you, stepping out the back doorway to grab something from his truck.
you turn on your heel, heading back upstairs. you grab two beers, at this point you need something to focus on that isn't rhett. otherwise you'll end up drooling on him or something just as insane. you shake your head, get a damn grip. he's just rhett. maybe it was the fact that years of hard labour made him even more muscular, or the way his lips curved up into a soft smile everytime he saw you— no. that wasn't real.
you think back to this morning when you'd made eye contact with him, and yes, he had smiled at you. just a few minutes ago, when you'd let him in—same soft smile—maybe ivy wasn't as crazy as you were thinking. you shake your head again, doesn't matter. he's an abbott. you grimace, and then pop the top off the beers, before deciding you need a shot before you go back downstairs. you grab the open bottle of vodka sitting on your counter, and forego the shot class all together, and take big gulp.
it burns as it slides down your throat. what could another possibly do? so you bring the bottle back to your lips, and take another long ass drink. you grit your teeth as you grab the open beers. you pop the top back on the vodka bottle, and head downstairs. he's in the same spot, hunched over, looking at the doorframe.
"behind you," you mumbles so you don't startle him, and he glances up as you pass him one of the cold beers in your hands.
"thanks," he says, shooting you a small smile. you nod, and pull yourself up on the counter just beside the door, crossing your legs up under you.
you're not sure if staying—hovering more like it—is a smart move on your part, but he doesn't seem to mind. after a few minutes of fiddling he stands up, goes down the steps and returns holding something.
"before i forget," he says, handing it to you. "had to bribe perry to get ahold of this."
you take the vhs from his outstretched hand, and your fingers brush his. you feel your face getting hot, again. another jolt of electricity parks across your chest as you make quick work of examining it, it's got a peeling yellowed label that just reads "royal + cecilia" followed by the year they got married.
"perfect," you say, "i think i have one of those vhs player tv's in the storage closet. if it's not a bother, i'll watch it now and make some sketches while you work, then you can take it back with you when you leave."
he nods, stepping back to give you space to slide of the counter. your lose your balance, squeaking in fear, but rhett catches your elbow, steadying you. you straighten yourself, and glance up at him.
"you ok?" he asks, an amused expression written across his features.
"yes," you huff, annoyance bubbling up in your voice.
gosh, he's pretty... and you're a mess. you shuffle across the room, his eyes fully still on you. you pop open the storage closet, and tug on the string hanging from the ceiling. yellow light floods the room. it's not a big space, maybe two feet by two feet, the walls lined with shelves upon shelves of art supplies. on the very top shelf, just inches out of your reach is the damn tv.
"fuckin' trevor," you grumble, and you hear a chuckle from behind you.
"need a hand?" rhett asks, and then you feel his presence behind you.
"yeah, i guess, goddamn tall fuckin' asshole brothers of mine," you say, and he laughs again.
he leans forward, his chest brushing your back as he easily maneuvers the small box tv off the shelf. you're not even really aware of how hard your breathing is when you glance up at him. he's smirking at you, like he knows some goddamn secret you don't. you lick your lips, incredibly aware of how close he is. how easy it would be to just lean forward, and press your lips to his. his eyes flick between your eyes, and your lips, and you have the overwhelming urge to scream again. fuck, you might be a little drunk. vodka was not the move.
you ease the tv out of his hands, brushing past him, "you need to stop lookin' at me like that,"
you set the tv on the counter by the doorway, and glance back. he's staring at you with that soft fucking smile. you melt a little.
"like what?" he asks, taking a step towards you.
you know damn well it's the vodka boosting your confidence, and removing your filter, but you can't help but say it, "like you want to kiss me,"
he's so close to you now, you can feel the heat radiating off him, he leans forward slightly and puts his hands on the counter on either side of your body. he's got you caged against the counter, and your heart is slamming against your ribcage with a ferocity that you haven't experienced since high school gym class. you want so damn badly to lean in, but you also know how goddamn complicated that would make your life.
"but i do," he says, it's so soft, so matter of fact.
it sends you reeling. what the actual fuck. is he insane?! you gulp, like actually. you'd literally stopped breathing there for a second. he's eye-level with you, a smirk on his lips. you want him so badly. but you're very obviously too drunk for that, and he steps back.
"however, i'd like you to remember it."
you pout, "i'd remember it."
he looks at you, one eye brow quirked up in a way that just screams he's challenging you. you roll your eyes, and pick your beer back up. you take a long drink, and turn your attention to the tv. you're not really focused on it. but hey, if he thinks you're too drunk to kiss, you might as well keep drinking. totally flawed thinking by the way. you know you're going to regret this later, but oh well. you plug the tv in, and pop the vhs into the player. rhett's moved back to the door, and is working away as you pad to the office to retrieve your sketchbook.
you settle on the edge of one of the tables, knees pulled up to your chest as you watch the tv... actually you're watching rhett's back. you don't even realize you zoned out until he turns, catching your eye. you drop your eyes to your sketchbook, and then glance up at the tv. you're trying so hard to focus, and at this point you're not sure if it's just rhett being handsome and distracting, or if it's the alcohol. probably both. definitely both. you catch a small moment on the tv—a small flicker of an expression on royal's face as he stands at the front of the room.
you slide off the table, and pad to the tv to rewind it. it's so miniscule, such a small moment—second really. but it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. he looks so in-love with cecilia. it's like for a moment, he can't believe she's going to be his wife. you rewind the tv again, pausing it just as the look returns. you turn the tv and lean against the counter to sketch what you're seeing on his face. it's not what rhett had asked for, but you're not sure if cecilia had ever noticed this particular moment. you sketch it out, roughly, eyes jetting back and forth between your sketch pad and the tv.
then, you look around for your phone. you're sure you brought it down with you. you huff, and rhett looks up at you.
"what?" he asks softly, pausing what he was doing.
"can i borrow your phone? i'm not sure where mine went, and i just want a picture of this."
"sure," he stands, fishing it out of his pocket, he doesn't even blink when he types his password in then slides it in your hand.
you blink at him, but he doesn't even spare you a second glance before resuming what he was doing. you shake your head, and turn back to the tv. you take a few photos from different angles trying to keep the glare from showing up. you set it down on the counter, and then press play again. you watch their vows; and then the first kiss. cecilia has this girlish excitement as she throws her arms around royal. he dips her, and you pause the video again. you take a couple more photos on rhett's phone, then make a rough sketch. you fast forward through the reception, up until the first dance.
you pause on a section where you can see both of their faces; a look of pure joy spread across both their faces. you don't think you've ever seen royal smile, let alone this much. it's almost unsettling... or it would be if the pure adoration radiating from the pair of them wasn't so darn cute. you snap another few photos, and then rhett's phone dings in your hands. you lean back, looking at him around the tv—but he keeps working.
"your phone dinged," you say, and he glances up at you.
"who was it?" he turns back to what he was doing and you suddenly feel weird.
why was he being so trusting with his phone? your last boyfriend got weird if you even looked at his phone. you couldn't remember a single guy you'd dated that would even let you hold his phone, let alone let you check who was texting him. you slide the notification panel down and see AMY flash across the screen.
"amy," you tell him, and he nods, "she says, "goodnight,""
he chuckles, "tell her i say goodnight back,"
and you do. you still feel weird. you're not sure why he trusts you. he shouldn't in all honesty. he had every right not to. your brother's alone, where a reason enough to avoid you. but here he is, having you text his niece back like it's not a big deal. and it probably isn't. but it feels like it is. it feels almost intimate. too intimate for a client. too intimate for a handyman. but you know deep down that's not what rhett is, much less has ever been to you. today has been fuckin' weird.
"y'know, i don't remember you bein' so spacey," he says casually, like it's totally normal that he remembers things about you.
"not entirely convinced that all that weed we smoked in high school was just weed." you reply waving him off.
he snorts and shakes his head at your reply. you know exactly what he means, but you're not playing that game. not tonight anyway. you pop the vhs out of the vhs player, and turn the tv off.
"where do you want this?" you ask, holding it up for him to see.
"uh, you can toss it in the glove box. probably the safest place for it." he shrugs, and you nod.
you slide past him, bracing yourself on his shoulder, his hand comes up to the small of your back to guide you past. you step outside, and round the side of his truck, opening the passenger side door. you lean over the seat, and gently set it inside—but then something catches your attention. a photograph.
no.
not a photograph. the photograph.
the one with rhett's arm around you. your breath catches in your throat. that can't be a coincidence. can it? you tuck it back where it was, and shuffle back around his truck.
"i've got all the rot off, i'm gonna replace it and then i'll need your help to hang the door." he tells you, and you nod.
you return to your abandoned sketchbook, picking it up and flipping to another page absently. you're not really paying attention to your pencil as it drags quickly across the page, when you do zone back in, you realize that you've been sketching rhett's hands... and his back... and the curve of his jaw in the moonlight. dear god, what are you doing?! definitely not what you're supposed to be sketching. you flip back to the last page, and continue adding to your half started sketches.
you're not sure how much time passes when rhett steps back into your line of sight, "alright sweetheart, i'm ready for you."
you're caught so far off guard by him calling you sweetheart that you miss the way he looks at you in that moment. it's soft, and bordering adoration—almost a perfect mirror of royal's from the video. you set everything aside, and stand up. you follow him over to the doorway, and he sets the door up, and then has you hold it from the inside. you take notice of the way he has his foot propped under the door to help steady it, and the way his fingers fiddle with the screws. he gets the first hinge secure, and then uses one hand to hold the door, and the other to maneuver you around him so you're on the other foot side.
god, that was hot. you think as you hold the door knob tightly. he finishes securing the bottom hinge, and steps back with a crooked smile. he catches your elbow, pulling you with him, your side bumping into his chest. you're so consumed by the fact that he's got you basically tucked into his chest that you miss the words coming out of his mouth.
"huh?" you say, "sorry i— i didn't catch that."
he ducks his head down closer to your ear, and you feel his warm breath slide over your neck. the sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and your brain momentarily short circuits. and his hand is on your hip. on! your! hip! and, like actually touching your skin because your shirt had ridden up ever so slightly in him pulling you back to admire the doorframe.
"i said, how does it look?"
your brain is working double time, but damn it, damn it all to hell because rhett abbott is so distracting. you swear you're losing your mind. every touch, every look, every soft smile. it's chipping away heavily at your composure—well, what little composure you think you still possess. which isn't much.
you lick your lips, and hum, "yeah, looks good, great."
his chest vibrates against your side, a soft laugh escaping him.
"glad you like it,"
you hum again, and realize you're starting to get tired. you yawn, stretching your arms up above your head, and pad back over to the counter. you tap rhett's phone screen and your jaw drops at the time. you look back at him, sleepy eyes as wide as they'll go.
"it's 3am,"
"wow, didn't realize it was so late."
"neither did i, fuck, i have an early meeting about the kids gallery."
"that's that art show the kids are putting on, right?"
"yeah, our junior kids—amy's age group actually—are putting their first one on."
you have to fight the urge to ask if he's going to come. you want him to. honestly, you just want to near him again.
"ah, yes. next week, right?" you nod, and he smiles. "amy's had us all promise we'll show up. she's very excited."
hearing that amy's excited makes you smile. amy being rhett's niece completely aside, she's definitely one of your favourite students, especially in that age group. she's so curious, and wants to learn as much as she can. it's refreshing considering most of the kids just like to make messes, and then see how many of their friends they can cover in paint.
"she's liking the class?" you ask, and he nods his head.
"yeah, it's her favourite day of the week. she's wired until she gets home, and then she just drops." you laugh at that. "she talks about you constantly."
your eyes snap up to meet his, "really?"
"yeah. she almost talks about you more than the actual class... she really looks up to you."
your heart swells with pride. that's entirely why you're doing that.
"wow. i— i don't think you realize how much that means to me."
he crosses his arms, "i think i can imagine. you talked about wanting to do this," he jerks his chin up, "all the time. every time i see you working with the kids it's like... i don't know, you've found your purpose."
you stare at him, a small smile spreading across your lips. maybe, during high school you weren't the only one feeling it. the pull. you don't really know what to say. warmth floods your chest as you step towards him. you're not really sure what you're doing until you've got your face buried in his shoulder, hugging him tightly. without hesitation he wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer.
maybe... maybe you were wrong... maybe rhett did see you.
you're miserable right now. you've just gotten out of your kids gallery meeting and you want to crawl into bed. your head is throbbing, hangover go figure, and your head just feels so heavy. you step back into your office, and immediately drop into your chair, kicking your boots off under your desk. ivy pops up over the side of her desk, leaning her head on her hands.
"what?" you groan, leaning forwards, putting your forehead onto the glass.
it's nice, soothing against your headache.
"i see the back door got fixed,"
"don't start," you reply, lifting your head to glare at her.
"what?" she asks defensively, "that was quick is all... mind you, you look like shit."
you bark a laugh, "thanks ivy, exactly what i wanted to hear..." then quietly you add, "i feel like i'm dying."
"what did you two get up to last night?" she asks wiggling her eyebrows at you.
"it's pretty hazy. i don't know, whatever it was i should likely be mortified by it. yesterday was just—embarrassing."
"i dunno, with the way he was looking at you... i don't think there's much you could do that he'd hold against you."
"cut it outttttttt. i'm serious, i'm too hungover for this. i feel like someone is stabbing me in the brain and my stomach feels like a shaken bottle of pop." you snap, but it's half-hearted, and whiney, and she just snorts at you.
"toast and coffee sound good?" she huffs, mock annoyed.
"please, i'll love your forever." you moan, dropping your head back down on the glass.
ten minutes later, she's walking into your office with white toast and hot coffee.
"ah, thank you... sometimes i forget this is literally part of your job." you say taking a small bite of the toast.
"pshhh, what? no! i just love taking care of my boyfriend's little sister." she says and you shoot her a glare. "i'm joking. i adore you. almost as much as rhett abbott does."
"ivy!"
"what?! i want you to get a piece of that hot cowboy. sue me!"
your face grows hot. she's ridiculous. and a lump is forming in the back of your throat.
"look, i saw you looking more alive than i have since you were in high school. you weren't just flowing through the motions, you were nervous and embarrassed—sure—but c'mon. that's more emotion than you've displayed in your last three relationships combined. and it's been what?" she pauses checking her watch, "16 hours since he first walked in here yesterday."
you stare at her wide eyed, and then shake your head. she sighs at you in exasperation.
"what? why can't you let yourself have this?" she's looking at you with an intensity you've never seen in her before. "what's the worst thing that could possibly happen?"
"my entire family disowns me, and i lose all three of my brothers." you choke out, then the damn breaks and you're sobbing into your hands.
"oh, shit. that won't— c'mere." she slides around your desk, and wraps her arms around her. "that won't happen. those three would lose their minds without you around. they love you so so much. besides, i'll kick luke's ass and then dump him if he ever tried to disown you. you're part of the reason i've stuck around so long. well, that and i've finally got him trained. luke loves you. he's just got a hard time sticking the landing. that's why he throws orders around. he's trying to protect you—keep you safe. he just sometimes is too focused to realize he's doing more damage than good."
your shoulders shake hard as you stuck down as much air as you can.
"and you think either of those knucklehead's could keep billy from you? he'd never let them know a day of peace, and you'd still see him regardless."
you let out a choked laugh, and she brushes your hair away from your eyes.
"in this particular situation—i think you ask for forgiveness, not permission. they'll fold when they see you happy, because that's all they want for you. even if that means having to tolerate rhett fucking abbott."
the next few days pass in a blur, after recovering from your hangover, you've been like a walking zombie, physically and emotionally drained. but, things look up during the kids gallery and it's almost entirely because amy flies into the gallery walk dragging perry and rhett at top speed over to her art work hanging up. the town had let you block off part of the street in front of the studio to put up makeshift walls. each kid had half a wall with their art they'd made throughout the school year pinned up. you and ivy had gone the extra mile and set up string lights, spotlights, and put up velvet ropes.
ivy shoots to your side, you think that she thinks she's being subtle—she's not. she looks at you wide eyed, and throws her head back—again, not being subtle whatsoever. you mirror her expression and mouth, "fucking stop." she stills, "he's looking isn't he? be subtle." you shift on your feet, peeking past her, then roll back, eyes wide again. "yeah, now fucking what?!" rhett had positioned himself so while he was listening to amy, he could stare straight forward at you, but also still seem like he was paying attention. that no one else would be able to tell he was staring at you, except for you.
"i think the phone's ringing," ivy says, brushing past you into the studio.
you manage to neutralize your expression before her quick exit, and you start forward eyes dropping to amy. she's bouncing excitedly as she explains her pieces, then she sees you—and she squeals in excitement.
"oh! ms. tillerson!"
"hi amy! and amy's family!" you say cheerfully, as rebecca, royal and cecila join amy, perry and rhett. "how are we this evenin'?"
"good," cecila says, and a ripple of nods follow. "this is such a neat idea,"
"thank you," you beam, "it was actually my brother—billy's—idea. he and luke helped build the walls, and trevor brought everything into town..."
cecila smiles softly at you, but you see that flicker in royal's eyes. amy may not care what your last name means, but royal—he despises what it stands for. perry shifts uncomfortably, rebecca gives you a tight smile. rhett's expression is unreadable, but his eyes are unmistakably still on you.
"and— and—" amy looks at you, "can i tell them—?"
"yes, absolutely," you say face growing hot from the number of eyes on you—but mostly rhett's eyes on you.
"one of my paintings is going to be auctioned at the gala!" she says excitedly, and everyone breaks out in coos of encouragement.
"the kids all voted on who's painting per age group should be auctioned—and they unanimously chose amy's. half the proceeds goes straight into a scholarship fund for the kids, and half goes to amy." you explain, "tickets for the banquet are still available—if anyone's interested."
you're rambling. you're also embarrassed, again. you smile awkwardly, and then amy grabs royal's hand and takes off across to a different wall. everyone but rhett disburses.
"that was painful, wasn't it?" you ask, and rhett rubs the back of his neck.
"you want the truth?" he smirks, and you immediately shake your head.
"no absolutely not; lie to me." you plead, crossing your arms across your chest, you're fighting the urge to bury your face in his chest.
not appropriate.
"it went, like, so well."
"you're either a terrible liar, or a shitty friend." you groan, and he laughs at you.
"shitty friend, for sure." he jokes, and you lose the ability to keep your lips from quirking up.
"i mean, at least you're an honest shitty friend. i'll take what i can get,"
there's a beat of silence before he speaks again, "it definitely could have been worse."
"oh yeah? how?" you fire back, unconvinced.
he pretends to think, and then snaps his fingers, "spontaneous combustion. you open your mouth to speak, and then just red mist."
you blink at him, and then burst out laughing, "what is wrong with you?"
"hey, made you laugh—the was the goal."
"you're ridiculous—but i appreciate it. i kind of needed that,"
"tough week?"
"yeah, ivy kicked in my back door like the hulk," you joke, and he laughs, and it's such a cute sound—almost like he's been caught off guard. "and then this guy who fixed it kept me up all night, and then i had wicked insomnia the rest of the week."
he tsks, "what an asshole,"
"i know right? and he didn't even apologize."
"oh he should definitely get on that—maybe he could, take you out for dinner to make up for it?"
you're stunned. kind of speechless. so, you nod. then your brain kicks in and you reply.
"uh, okay—i mean yeah, that could be an nice way to a-apologize."
his lips curl into that stupid soft smile, and your heart starts trying to kill you.
"oh, hey, while you're here, i finished the sketches. do you want to stay to look at them after?"
"uncle rhett!" amy yells, arms above her head trying to get his attention.
"yeah, i'd love to see them. i'll find you when perry and rebecca leave," he looks over at amy, "i'm comin',"
"sounds good," you reply, and his hand grazes your lower back as he heads over to where amy is.
you glance around, trying to be really calm about finding ivy. she's standing a few feet away at the refreshment table. you take a deep breath, and walk calmly over to where ivy is, and grab her elbow.
"wh-what? oh, dude, you scared me." she whisper yells at you, "are you breathing—?"
you take another deep breath, and realize—no, you hadn't been when the burn in your lungs eases.
"he asked me out." you hiss, and her posture goes rigid, turning slightly towards you so she can stare you down.
"i told you."
"not now," you snap, "need help!"
"with?"
"i'm freaking out ivy, like actually. i might be having a heart attack." she sighs, and pull you away from the refreshments and into the dimly lit studio.
"you're not having a heart attack, i promise. look, you're allowed to be scared, worried, piss-your-pant-terrified. but you're not allowed to let that control you—okay?"
"what if—?"
"i'll personally fight each and every member of your family. do you like him?"
you nod.
"do you like being near him?"
you nod again, breathe.
"do you want to go on this date?
you nod slowly, you really do.
"then, relax. enjoy this. it's the best part,"
you say good night to the last parent, and child. rhett's already inside, sitting in your office at your desk. doing what? you didn't know. that's just where he decided to land as some of the clean up crew began moving everything onto the trailer trevor would be picking up shortly. you pad inside, kicking your boots off by the door leading to your apartment. you step into your office, and you pause by the door way. he's in your chair, leaned back with his hands folded across his chest and his hat over his eyes. you knock softly on the door trying not to startle him.
he moves the hat back to his head, and sits up. he blinks a few times, and you smile.
"tired are we, cowboy?"
"tough week," he replies, as you round the side of the desk.
you pull out your sketchbook from a drawer, and set it on the desk in front of him. you quickly realize your mistake when you have to flip through it in front of rhett's face. not when you've been doodling him and his face since the last time you'd hung out. your fingers twitch, and rhett misreads your hesitation to open the book as unable to reach. he rolls the chair back enough to pull you down onto his lap, and then moves you both closer to the desk. he sits leaning forward with his chin on your shoulder, his chest pressed to your back. you briefly wonder if he can hear your heart slamming in your chest through the silence of your office. you corner check your pages as you try to find the right one. you would have thought you'd have learned after last time. but nope. here you are. you tilt the page a little wider to get a look.
he grunts, squinting, "what're you doin'?"
"uh," you're not sure what to say. "i— uh..."
"i think we're a little past being embarrassed, don't y'think?"
"no." you say, probably too quickly. "i'm just a walking-talking puddle of embarrassment whenever you're around,"
he chuckles, "that so?"
"yes." you shift, turning ever so slightly to look at him. "you seem to have that affect on me as of late,"
"i did happen to notice that. i don't think i've see you this flustered since high school."
"what? i was not flustered in high school." you scoff, rolling your eyes.
"you totally were. you still make the same face." you raise an eyebrow and he smiles, "it's a mix of oh god, i hope the floor opens up and swallows me whole and i think i'm gonna puke."
"whatever," you huff, catching the page you wanted to show him. "okay, so these—"
"woah," he breathes, eyes dropping to the sketch. "if these are just your rough sketches, i can only imagine how amazin' the actual painting is gonna look."
"thanks..." your face feels hot again, you're not sure how much of these compliments, coupled with how close he is, you can take. "look, there was this moment in the video, when your mom started walking down the isle—your dad had this look on his face, just... adoration. i think that we take that moment, and the moment when they had their first kiss, oh, and—"
his hands settle on your hips, "as much as i appreciate your enthusiasm... you need so stop bouncing around."
your face twists in confusion, and then it dawns on you. you're literally sitting on him. and yeah, you get bouncy when you're excited or talking passionately. you clear your throat, mumbling a tiny, embarrassed, barely audible sorry.
"nah, don't be sorry... just don't start something you're not going to finish." his chin is on your shoulder again, his breath fans across your cheek and a shiver shoots down your spine.
then you hear the soft click of heels against hardwood and ivy appears in the doorway. she freezes, eyes wide. rhett's grip on your hips tighten slightly, and then he lets go altogether.
"sorry... am i, uh, interrupting something?"
you shake your head frantically, "nope. what's up?"
"uh," she's not convinced, you can see it in her eyes. "trev just picked up the trailer. he told me to tell you that you've been "summoned"? whatever that means."
you groan, your head rolling forwards, "family meeting. could this week get any more complicated?"
"well, i've informed you. i'm heading home. i'll see you tomorrow," she waves as she heads back out, leaving you and rhett alone again.
"y'know, this is probably your fault," you grumble, forcing yourself to stand up. "we've had no reason to have a family meeting in like, i dunno, five years?"
"lil ol' me?" rhett bats his—unfairly nice—eyelashes at you, a ridiculous expression on his face and you roll your eyes.
"oh yes, lil ol' you. i've already been lectured—at length, by the way—by luke about not "fraternizing" with the "enemy". and that was before whatever's happenin' here—" you gesture between you and him, "so, i can only—"
"you look ridiculous pretty right now," you blink at him, your words dying in your throat as you look at him.
he's sitting back, one hand on the edge of the desk, one on his thigh, this legs spread and that damn smile. oh dear god. now you really think you're having a heart attack. breathe. you inhale sharply and turn away from him. you can not handle the way he's looking at you.
"you can't say shit like that," you say, turning back towards him, leaning against the glass wall.
he tilts his head, "why not?"
he licks his lips, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as his eyes rake up your body then down again before settling on your face.
"it's true." he adds, pushing himself up onto his feet.
your eyes are glued to his, and your head tilts up to watch him lean over you, one arm braced above your head. his face is so close. he just stares into your eyes—you're frozen, like a deer in headlights. he essentially has you exactly where he wants you—but he doesn't push. he can sense your hesitance, and doesn't want to scare you off.
"what're you thinkin'?" he asks you softly, his free hand settling on your shoulder, and then slowly drifting down your arm, and landing on softly on your hip.
"this is complicated," you whisper, you know he knows, but you're not sure if he's really thought through what crossing that line could mean.
you want it. want him. god, do you want him. however, one of you really needs to be the adult in this situation. be realistic. because if you kiss him, there's no going back. nothing will ever be the same, and there's no saying what could happen. you'd never again have the will power to hold yourself back. you're going to fall into his arms, and you're never going to climb back out. you know that.
"it doesn't have to be,"
"no," you laugh breathlessly, humorlessly, "but i think that decision was made for us a long time ago."
"who cares?" he replies softly, but there's an edge, like maybe he's been having the same internal struggle as you, "screw them all, let them be mad, it's none of their business."
"i—"
he's right, but there's still that gnawing worry—you love your brothers, they make that an incredibly hard task, but you do. you couldn't imagine living a life without them. it made new york difficult, manageable, but difficult. you'd moved back because you missed wyoming—the mountains, the fresh air, the stars. but just under that, was your craving for home—your brother's are your home. but, rhett fucking abbott is staring at you like you mean something, and your resolve is slipping.
"don't mistake my hesitance for disinterest, rhett," you finally say, "i want this—god do i."
"then take it," he whispers, "i'm yours. have been since high school."
your heart momentarily stops beating, then starts thumping like a kick drum. fuck it, is all that crosses your mind before you're grabbing the collar of his jacket, and pulling him forward. your lips meet, and you finally understand what people mean when they talk about fireworks. heat shoots across your skin, as his other hand drops from the wall to your other hip, pulling you flush against him. your hands slide up his neck, and your fingers card through the hair at the base of his neck. his mouth is so warm against yours and—god his lips are so soft.
and then the phone on your desk rings, cutting through the silence—startling you both. rhett's arms slide around your waist, his hands resting on your lower back as you pull apart, both of you breath hard. he smiles at you softly, and your heart squeezes in your chest. the phone rings again, and you begrudgingly pick it up.
"where the hell are you?" trevor snarls into the phone. "didn't ivy tell you—"
you glance at your watch and your eyes go wide, it's midnight.
"i'm so sorry trev," you say, "i got distracted—"
"i swear to god if it has anything to do with rhett fucking abbott, i'm going to kill him. maybe luke and i'll teach him a lesson. hangin' around our baby sister, fuck that. guy's got some fuckin' nerve."
"i beg your fucking pardon," you grit out, "trevor, you're an asshole. and you need to fucking grow up. go fuck yourself."
you slam the receiver down, great, now your first kiss with rhett will always be remembered with white hot rage quickly following.
"is now a bad time to tell you that was kind of hot," he says, and you look at him bewildered—what about that could have possibly been hot? "defending me like that, when you weren't literally just fighting with me about this exact thing ten minutes ago,"
you can't help but smile when he presses a soft kiss to your collarbone, "yeah, well like you said—you're mine, and i protect what's mine."
he lifts his head, "okay that's very hot,"
he kisses you again, and then pulls back.
"you need a ride to start the revolution?"
you shake your head, "as much as i would love to rock up with you there, i think that this is a battle i need to fight myself. besides, i think they might try and jump you."
he drop his grip on you, "probably. trevor's tried to fight me for much much less."
"oh!" you say, "your list."
he quirks an eyebrow, "my list?"
you yank the sticky note with the other broken things around the studio off your computer monitor and hand it to him, "didn't think i'd forget, did ya?"
"no, you're meticulous. i forgot about it," he admits, and you snort.
"of course, good thing you're cute." you tease, leaning up to peck his cheek. "see; bad weed."
"well, warlord, you mind if i stick around and take a crack at this?" he asks as you grab your keys from the top drawer.
"you can if you want—but it's late. you should go to sleep." you say softly, and he shakes his head.
"nope, i'm not going to sleep until you get back."
"rhett,"
"no—i pushed this, i want you to have somewhere soft to land when it's over."
you think you might just burst into tears when you lean up to kiss him one more time. you'd rather stay, fall into bed wrapped up in rhett's arms. ignore your brothers, but this can't keep going the way it has been.
"i'll be back in an hour or two," you tell him, and he nods.
you take a deep breath when you climb into your truck, tonight is going to be a fucking long one.
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