Page 109 of Bound to Burn


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“Not helping, Erin,” Cash argues.

Erin shrugs. “Men are animals who can’t seem to think beyond their little head.” She looks pointedly at both Jack’s and Cash’s crotch.

Cash grabs the photo off the wall and turns it towards his body.

“Hey!” I yell at him. “What are you doing?”

“It says it’s for sale.” He points to the card on the wall. “Well, now it’s mine.”

“I wasn’t going to let anyone buy it anyway.”

Peter wiggles his way in between both Jack and Cash, looking around, confused. “What did I miss?” he asks innocently, and Jack looks away, laughing manically while Cash looks like he wants to punch him.

“Peter, I thought you weren’t able to make it,” I say, giving him a hug.

“I was able to get out of work and wanted to surprise you,” he says innocently.

“Oh, she’s surprised alright,” Jack chimes in, and I glare at him.

After I knocked on his door that day, it’s been a hard road to get to a place where we can start forming a relationship, and this is definitely not how I wanted to start including Peter in my life. The last four months have been an emotional rollercoaster, not only for Peter and I, but for both our families. It was definitely shocking for him to learn that he had a daughter, when all this time he believed Maggie had had an abortion. At first he didn’t believe me, which I can understand now, but at the time, it was heartbreaking. We still have a long road to go, but the stories he’s shared about my mom make me feel closer to her, and have helped Peter and I start to heal.

I don’t get a chance to catch up with Peter because Cash takes off in the direction of the office with the picture, and I chase after him. “You’re supposed to wait untilafterthe showing to collect your art.”

I can’t help but laugh at how absurd Cash is being. He turns around and his eyes flare. “Now is not the time to be a smartass.”

I smile at him, and we turn the corner into the empty art director’s office. He’s hot when he gets possessive, and I won’t admit it to anyone else, but I kinda like it.

“Did you do this on purpose just to rile me up?” he asks, propping the photo against the wall. Just the thought of what he might do with all that pent up energy has me squeezing my thighs together.

I finger the edge of his leather jacket. “You don’t like it?” I ask him, sticking out my bottom lip.

He places a hand above my shoulder against the wall. “Of course, I like it. I took the damn photo.” His demeanor softens.

“Well, now it’s yours,” I pull him closer.

“You’re fucking right it’s mine,” he growls.

“Do you know why I chose that photo as my self-portrait?” I ask him.

“To fucking torture me,” he answers.

“No,” I laugh, “because I realized it was your way of telling me you were in love with me.”Even before he was able to form the words.

He smiles, confirming my suspicion, because he knew I would be the only one to see it. I’d told him how a picture can tell you a lot about the subject, but even more about the person who took it.

“Baby, you stole a piece of my heart every time you walked in the store with those fucking pink glittered Converse,” he drags his thumb across my bottom lip, “and this smart mouth.” He kisses me, capturing my bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re being ridiculous, but I love you.”

“Tell me that again, baby,” he demands.

“I love you.”

Someone clears their throat and we both look towards the door.

“I hate to break up whatever this is,” Jack says as he motions loosely with his hand, “but someone from the L.A. Times is looking for you,” Jack reports as he points at me.

My breath catches and I can see it all start to happen, everything I have been working towards. The path I have set myself on is opening up, and all I have to do is walk towards it.

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