Page 218 of Barinov

“I got a maybe, Hales.” I laugh quietly, shaking my head. “And don’t middle name me.” I peer out the window, letting the sunlight warm my cheeks. “Until then, it’s just another dream sitting in my inbox.”

Haley just stares at me for a long moment. “You’re unbelievable.”

“What?”

“Most people would’ve printed that email and framed it.”

“It’s just an email.”

“No.” She points toward the phone still resting in my hand. “It’s proof that someone who has never met you looked at one, single painting you submitted and was like fuck yeah we want him.”

I don’t have an answer for that.

She softens, stepping closer.

“So…” she says, grinning as she bumps my shoulder. “Sounds like you need to get on it, bud.”

“Profound words, Hales.”

“They’re my specialty.” She wraps her arms around my waist. “But seriously though, how cool would it be if my bestie became a famous artist one day?”

I hook my arm around her shoulder and press a quick kiss on the top of her red hair.

“It’d be pretty cool.”

Chapter 55

ZEKE

Dr Monroe’s Office - Manhattan, New York

10 days since we’ve been back.

I hate therapists. Always have. Always fucking will. I hate their judgey tones and rooms that smell like cheap lavender bath salts.

And from the look Dr. Monroe’s giving me over his glasses, I’m beginning to think the feeling might be mutual.

“Zeke.”

“What?” I snap.

“I asked you how you’ve been since our last session.”

“Oh, you mean since yesterday?” I bite back.

Bells has had me in this fucker’s office practically daily since we got home. Poking. Prodding. Asking me to feel things, like that’s somehow going to erase the nine hundred days of hell. He keeps saying I’m holding onto the trauma instead of processing it.

Personally, I think I’m processing it just fine.

I’m sleeping. Well, I’m sleeping sometimes. Marisol has helped with that. Except for that first night when I woke up damn near suffocating her because I thought she was Luca.

But that was one time and hasn’t happened since.

I’m eating. Hell, Cade practically force-feeds me enough pancakes every morning to stuff a damn horse. And I haven’t punched Lex in…

I glance up at the clock.

…almost three full days.