“That, and the fact he had his hands all over you,” I grunt, tightening my arms around her. “The guy’s had it out for me since day freakin’ one.”
Lizzy’s laugh buzzes against my skin. “Ego.”
“My ego was fine,” I gripe. “It was my heart that was taking a beating.”
She goes quiet, hand stilling on my chest. I can practically hear her thoughts racing, as she processes.
“Marcus really liked my painting?” she finally asks, voice small.
“Liked it? Sunshine, he wanted to know if you’d share more. Said your style was ‘refreshingly authentic’ or some artsy words similar to that. I think he might want to give you your own show.”
She sits up abruptly, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” I say, smoothing her hair away from her face with the my palm of my hand.
Seemingly at a loss for words, she shakes her head. “Thank you.”
The genuine gratitude in her eyes makes my chest tighten in the best way. “You don’t need to thank me. Your work deserves to be seen. And so do you.”
She leans in, kissing me softly.
I’m still savoring the sweetness of it as she tucks herself back into the crook of my arm with a satisfied hum.
fifty-two
“Here.”
Startled, I look down to see a thick, black piece of plastic land next to my coffee mug.
“What the hell is this?”
“A credit card.”
Eyes wide, they dart between Rowan and the card, mouth parted slightly in shock. I can’t help it. It’s a freaking black Amex. You know. The one all the rich people use?
“The fuck, Ro?”
He shrugs and takes another bite of his avocado and cheese omelet. “Since I’m going to be in meetings most of the day, I thought it would be good for you to go have some fun. Go shopping, sightseeing, or whatever. Evo will drive you after he drops me off at Paramount.”
When I toss the offensive hunk of plastic back at him, he barely manages to catch it before flies off the edge of the counter.
“First of all, I don’t want or need your money, you ass,” I grouse, lifting my cup to my lips. “Second of all: You take meetings on Sundays?”
“Hollywood never sleeps.”
I snort into my cup. “That’s New York, weirdo.”
Rowan rolls his eyes and gets up to stand between my legs, placing his hands on my bare thighs as I sit perched on a stool at the kitchen island.
Slapping the card down on the counter, his warm hands reach up to cup my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones as his hazel eyes lock with mine. “Please don’t fight this, Iz. I told you. I want you to have the full Hollywood experience. After Evo drops me off, he’ll take you wherever you want to go. Rodeo Drive, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, even the beach.”
I try to look away, but his grip tightens just enough to keep my gaze on his. “I don’t need your money,” I mutter, my resolve weakening under his intense stare.
“It’s not like that.” His voice softens as he leans in closer. “Let me do this for you.”
My heart flutters traitorously in my chest. I hate how easily he can break down my defenses with just a look, a touch. But there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that makes it impossible for me to fight with him about this.
“Fine,” I sigh, reaching for the card. “But I’m not going crazy with it.”
