“But I respect you too much, and I also couldn’t find him.”
I watched her eyes fall to the tips of her shoes the second his name hit my ears. “Any idea where he is?”
She shrugged, still not looking at me. “No idea. Maybe he went for a run.”
I hummed in response as we went to the ticket line. Jess was probably the only one out of all of us who could get blackout drunk and go for a run the morning after. That part didn’t concern me. What did was the look on Daisy’s face.
Those two falling out had only happened once or twice since we’d all been friends, but now it was becoming a monthlything. We never asked her what it was about after the first time we tried, but it was getting to the point where it was clear something was going on. And I just couldn't bare seeing Daisy so upset. And Jess even quieter.
But before we split off from the natural crowd of tourists, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around and looked up, the tension I hadn’t even known was sitting on my shoulders slipping off like melted butter.
Marcus smiled once he saw me. “I’m going to be outside in the car. I’ve got a link to the cameras so I’ll still be able to see you inside. You’ll stay visual?”
I nodded, smiling like I was staring up at Michelangelo’sDavid. “I will.”
“Stay out of trouble,” he warned, but his smile had become more earnest, like his natural reaction was to smile when he saw me now. And if I was being honest, it was becoming mine, too.
My lashes batted. “I will.”
“And if you see anything, if you need me at all you—”
“Call fire?”
His eyes darkened. “You call me.”
Yes, sir.
Giving him a salute and a bashful smile was all I could do without completely crumbling. Which was insane, because this wasn’t me. Blushing wasn’t in my arsenal. Rarely ever had been. But apparently all it took was a bodyguard who genuinely cared for me and a bit of a command kink, and I was strawberry red.
I watched him leave the gallery, through the glass doors and down the steps, a silhouette of black t-shirt and blue jeans swallowed by summer light and strangers. And I hated that my pulse didn’t slow once he was gone—it only got louder, like it was reminding me I was in trouble.
Avoiding the crowds, Dais and I went the opposite way around the gallery than we should have, but it only meant that the hallways and rooms filled with breathtaking pieces of art were empty. Enough for us to stand in front of each one for several minutes and not be disturbed by a single soul.
Sometimes Dais and I would split off when we entered a room, purely because it was obvious she needed some alone time. In one room in particular, I found her enchanted byOpheliaby John Everett Millais.
I brushed up beside her, but she didn’t take her eyes off the painting.
“I get her,” she whispered.
My eyes glanced to her before looking back at the painting. “You know,Opheliais the painting that would always make me think of you whenever we discussed it in class.”
She turned to me, green eyes gentle. “Why?”
I shrugged, looking deeply into the colour swirls that made up the river. “Well, it’s Ophelia. She’s lived a life where people overlook her, manipulate her, and she’s known grief. She was who others needed her to be—selfless and agreeable and sweet.” I took a breath, inspecting every detail. “And the flowers say everything. She’s hiding her pain with everything that’s beautiful because that’s the only way she knows how to survive.She drowns internally in her emotions instead of upsetting everyone else with them.”
I felt Daisy still beside me, and while I had her, I let her know, “If something happened with Jess, you can tell me.”
She looked up at me, her teary eyes almost on the verge of overflowing. I watched her chest rise and fall, before her head turned away to look back atOphelia. “I think he slept with someone.”
Before I could react, her eyes were back on me.
“I know we’re not together and he has every right to do whatever he wants, but when I overheard him talking about it with the guys… I got so sad.”
I slung my arm around her, tugging her into me until her head was resting on my shoulder. “I get it.”
She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t. I’ve had years to tell him how I feel, and now I’m getting upset that he’s living his life exactly like he’s allowed to? I don’t want to be that girl.”
I squeezed her tighter. “You’re a girl in love who’s just had her heart broken. You’re allowed to be upset.”
