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“She could see the beauty in your art.”
“She most definitely could. She was my biggest cheerleader, even when…” My throat tightens as that day on the beach flashes in my mind.
“Even when?”
“Even when I gave up on it, she never did. She never gave up on me.”
Prescott’s finger slides over my cheekbones, and only then do I realize I’m crying. Looking down, I brush the tears away. “Sorry. Thinking about her… it’s just hard.”
Gently, he nudges my chin up. “There is nothing to be sorry for. You miss her.”
“I do. I miss her every single day. Especially now.”
Now that I need her to tell me what to do, but she’s not here. If she were here, she would know what to do. How to deal with this. How to stay strong when all I want to do is break.
“Why now?”
I graze my teeth over my lower lip. The words are on the tip of my tongue. It would be so easy for them to come out. But I can’t. I can’t say it because if I do, nothing will ever be the same again.
I’llnever be the same again.
And I’m not ready.
I’m not ready to lose the little bit I have left of the person that makes me, me.
So I shove the words back into that dark, hidden place inside of me.
“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. My fingers graze Prescott’s chin, my eyes falling to his lips. “I don’t want to talk any longer.”
Prescott watches me silently for a moment before letting his hands drop down, those strong fingers gripping my thighs. “What do you want?”
I lean closer, my mouth brushing against his. “You. I want you.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
JADE
Hotshot: What are you up to?
Me: Netflix and chill.
Hotshot: Is that an invitation?
I roll my eyes because, of course, he had to go there—typical guy behavior.
Me: No, that’s what I’m doing.
Me: Lying in bed, watching Netflix and hibernating.
Hotshot: What are you watching?
Me: Reruns ofCriminal Minds.
Hotshot: Didn’t take you for that kind of girl.
Me: What kind of girl do you think I am?
Hotshot: Not sure.
