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13
I feel like an idiot for believing I could hold Cassie at a distance and not open up too much. That bullshit didn’t last against her irresistible aura. It’s as magnetic as seven years ago, if not stronger.
“Don’t move,” Cassie playfully scolds me when I shift in the chair. She continues sketching, looking up every few seconds.
I take in her demeanor while she does her thing. She still chews at her bottom lip when concentrating.
“It’s hard sitting still for long,” I grumble.
She hisses. “Hold on.”
It’s been over twenty minutes since she asked to sketch my portrait following breakfast, and I’m eager to see her skills.
“So, what will you study in college?” I question.
“Creative arts.” She looks up briefly, asking, “What about you?”
“Uh, business management.”
“Your choice?” she confirms.
“Yeah. Why?”
She raises her brows. “Just curious if Aunt Helena decided for you. She was great at that when you were younger.”
“Mom does influence me, but I chose on my own.”
Silence engulfs us for another minute or two.
“Done,” Cassie announces happily, lifting the pad from her lap. She leans forward to show it to me.
My heart skips while I observe the depiction as if a balloon of delight popped inside my chest.
She perfectly captured every detail of my appearance, even the tiny birthmark on my neck.
I’m beyond impressed, but I decide to mess with her. “It’s all right, I guess.”
Cassie winces at my remark. “You hate it?”
“You made me look at least ten years older. I’m eighteen, not twenty-eight.”
“No way,” she argues in defense of her work. “Let me see.” She plucks the sketchpad from me and looks over the portrait carefully. “Does it…”
Unable to hold it anymore, I burst out laughing. “I’m just kidding. It’s great. You’ve gotten pretty damn good.”
A lengthy exhale seeps from her lips before she laughs it off and slaps my arm. “Jerk.”
My chuckles settle at the pinging of my phone.
“This girl,” I grumble in annoyance, thinking it’s Bristol texting again.
“You know, there’s an option to block numbers,” Cassie says teasingly. “Just a suggestion.”
I smirk. “Thanks. I’m about to do that right now.”
Sliding the device out of my pocket, I see a text from Mark instead. I guess he’s back in Fairfield.
You home?
