Page 6 of Before I Lost You

I snort. “You have more confidence in me than I have in myself.”

“You need to change that.” He chuckles, and I look at him. His eyes are set intently on my face, and he has a smirk on his lips.“You’re hot, and you have a pretty face. He’d be stupid not to go out with you.”

“What if he’s not into guys?” I frown, only now thinking of that. Fuck. How did I not think of that? “What if I’m fucking this all the way up? Oh, fuck. I’m making a fool of myself, aren’t I?”

“Hell no,” he says firmly. “You’re doing this, and you’re not going to question it. If he’s not into guys, at the very least, he’ll be flattered. You’ll take the rejection with your head held high, and you’ll move on knowing you at least tried.”

“I don’t know if I can take his rejection,” I admit.

“Only because you’ve never been rejected before.” His eyes sparkle when he says it, and I roll my own. “You’ll get over it eventually. Maybe.”

“Great,” I mutter. “So maybe I’ll be reliving this day for a long time.”

“It’s possible.” Emerson shrugs. “Or he might just give you the time of day, and all will be well.”

“What if—” I sigh, rubbing a hand down my face in frustration. “What if he doesn’t even call me?”

“Then you’ll have your answer.”

“He probably doesn’t know who I am.”

“Oh, I’m sure the guy who ran out of the exhibit as if his ass was on fire won’t be easy to forget.” Em smirks.

“Thanks,” I reply sarcastically, and he laughs.

“Unforgettable,” he says, grinning. “At least he can’t say you’re boring. He might even be a little bit intrigued by the whole situation, which works in your favor.”

I nod, hoping he’s right. “We’ll see, I guess.”

“Let’s go in.”

Emerson opens the door for me, waiting until I go inside before walking in behind me. There’s a desk in the reception area, and a lady with silver hair stands behind the counter. Shelooks up at us with a welcoming smile on her face, and I steel myself. I can’t fuck this up. I won’t.

“Hello, gentlemen,” she greets. “How can I help you today?”

“Hi,” I say softly, then clear my throat. “I’m not sure if you still have the photograph available, but I wanted to purchase it.”

Emerson chuckles under his breath, and I shoot him a look that can only be translated toshut the fuck up. He grins but obliges. The lady’s eyes sparkle, and she nods, rounding the counter until she’s in front of me.

“What’s your name?” she asks, then tips her chin towards the glass doors that lead to the exhibit. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“I’m Conrad Moore,” I reply. “I was here last night, though not for very long.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Moore.” She sounds friendly. Way too friendly for this early in the morning. “I’m Glenda.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Glenda.” If we could get past the pleasantries now, I’d really appreciate it. But I don’t say that. “I can show you the portrait. Hopefully, it’s still there.”

“Sure,” Glenda says with an easy smile. “Lead the way.”

I hold my breath as I walk through the gallery, then expel it in a whoosh when I see the picture is still there. Thank fuck. I don’t stop walking until I’m standing right in front of it. I stare at those indigo blue eyes,hiseyes, until Glenda and Emerson catch up to me. Em comes to stand at my side, and when I look at him, he’s smirking.

“I can see why you’re so obsessed.” He grins. “Beautiful eyes.”

“For the last time—I’mnotobsessed,” I groan.

“Then what do you call this?” he asks, amusement lacing his voice.

“Interested.” I shrug.