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LILY
I don’t know how,and I definitely don’t want to know why, but Nero curtly informs me I can leave the house again and go back to art school. Something has changed, and I can only assume that Vance is out of the picture now. Nero’s plan to use the Kovack reward as bait must have worked and drawn him out of hiding.
And whatever happened to Vance next…? Well, I don’t ask any questions. Something tells me that I’m better off not knowing the answer.
After all the drama of the past few days, it’s a relief to be back on campus again, just another student in the crowds. I catch up on my classes and check in with my tutors, pretending I’ve been sick to explain my absence. I’m pleased to learn that while I was away, I didn’t miss much in my drawing class, where we’re starting a new still life project.
“Focus on the line work,” my teacher tells us, as we settle in front of a display of potted plants. “Think about shape, not just what’s there, but the absence of form, too. Negative space.”
“Sure,” the student beside me mutters. “Because it’s so easy drawing what isn’t there.”
I smile. “You think if we turn in a blank sheet, she’ll accept it?”
He grins. “Dare you to try it.”
“Oh no, not me. I’ve already missed enough, I’ll fail for sure.”
“That’s right,” he studies me. “You haven’t been around this week.”
I clear my throat. “Flu,” I lie again, and it rolls easily off my tongue this time.
“Aww man, that sucks.” He grimaces. “Hope you’re feeling better.”
I nod and turn back to my easel. I exhale, trying to focus every bit of my attention on the assignment. I need a break from the outside world, but the quiet of the room allows my thoughts to roam free, and I can’t stop thinking about Nero.
His hands, pressing me down on the couch cushions. The feel of his mouth, relentless against me. The look in his eyes, positioned there between my thighs: victory mingling with pure unleashed desire.
I shudder, flushing hotly all over again.
“Lie to me all you want, but at least be honest with yourself about how you really feel.”
He was speaking the truth, of course. My body doesn’t hate him at all. Nor does my heart. Even now, just the memory of watching him lower his head between my legs makes my blood run wild, pounding in my veins.
I wish he didn’t know the effect he has on me, but I also can’t hide it. The chemistry between us is too strong.
And as for the hold he has on my emotions…
“Ah, Lily, good to have you back with us.”
I look up from my drawing to see that the teacher has made her way over to me. She’s looking down, measuring my progress with a speculative look. I give her a strained smile.
“I guess I might be overthinking this,” I say, knowing that I should be further along in the process by now. Class is already almost over, and with my wandering thoughts, I’ve barely completed half the scene.
“Thinking might be your problem,” she says, with a knowing smile. “Artists can become crippled by their own thoughts, questioning every line they draw, every stroke of the paintbrush. You have to just trust your instincts.”
I nod. “Thanks. I’ll try.”
She moves on, but her words linger.
Trust your instincts.
She’s right. I produce my best art when I’m doing that, when I can just shut off the voices of doubt and reason in my mind, and give myself over to the project. I know deep down what brushstrokes I should use, the sense of light and color in a painting, and the more I have confidence in those choices and stop second-guessing, the better a piece always is.
So what am I supposed to do when it comes to my instincts about Nero?
In my heart, I know we belong together, but I’ve been fighting that instinct since the day he found me again. Even after everything we’ve been through, being drawn back to him time and time again, I still have this voice in my head that tells me it’s a mistake. That I shouldn’t want him.
Shouldn’t need him, the way I need oxygen. Beyond rational thought.
