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“Uh, then we might want to make sure he’s not armed and there are witnesses.” Liam winked at him after saying that.
Definitely a jerk.
10
Why do I run when things become too much? Why do I just give up?
She was so damn annoyed with herself. She flung the paint at the canvas, knowing she was making a mess of things. But this was the only way she knew to safely let her emotions out without . . . without hurting herself.
But she refused to do that anymore.
“Am I going to get to see this one?”
She turned with a gasp, finding Nico standing in the doorway to the solarium, leaning against the doorway.
“No.” She should have known they’d come after her. But when they hadn’t stopped her from running off, she’d been worried they’d given up on her already.
“One day, you’ll show me,” he said confidently.
“Don’t be so sure.”
“You mad at me, Lottie?” He walked in and sat on the sofa across from her. She stared down at him, examining her emotions.
Am I mad at him?
Yeah. She was.
“Yes.”
“Why?” he asked, not looking upset, just interested.
“I . . . I don’t know. It’s stupid. I’ve got no reason to be mad at you.”
He leaned forward, placing his hands on his thighs. “Not stupid if they’re your feelings.”
She shook her head, closing her eyes for a long moment. “Where’s Liam?”
“Securing our stay here.”
Her eyes popped open. “What? What do you mean? Don’t you have to go home?”
It all felt too hard, too much. Them wanting to be with her. Too many obstacles.
Perhaps she was putting up all these obstacles to stop things before they even started. Looking for the negative instead of thinking about all the good things that could happen.
“I don’t know when I became so negative,” she whispered. “I never felt this way before. I could always bounce back from anything. Nothing bothered me. Maybe if I had more experience at being angry or upset or disappointed, I wouldn’t be struggling so much.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being resilient and happy,” he told her. “Or with being mad and upset. There’s nothing wrong with emotions. What is a problem, is when you let them stop you from doing something that you want to do or love to do because you’re letting them take over.”
“I get what you’re saying. But it’s one thing to know it and another to do it.”
“I get that, pretty girl. Probably more than you know. Come sit with me.” He patted the sofa next to him, and she put her paintbrush down then checked that she didn’t have wet paint all over her before she sat. He simply held out his hand, waiting for her to decide whether to take it.
Without thinking, she reached over and slipped her hand into his. His warmth filled her with a strength she wished she could always feel.
“I’m the youngest of five.”
She nodded, failing to see what his point was but willing to take the change in subject.
