I lean in, invading her space until our noses are almost touching.
“A framework is what you build before you start breaking things.”
“And what are we going to break?”
“Everything.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I ignore it. Adrian, maybe. Coach, maybe. Or the rest of my life collapsing inward.
None of it matters.
Right now, it’s dust in the air, the faint chemical bite of fixative from her swatches, the warmth coming off her skin, and the sharp, dangerous edge of her eyes.
“Stand up,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because we’re leaving.”
“I’m not done working.”
“You’re done now.”
I stand first, then extend a hand down to her. She looks at it like it’s a trap.
“Take it,” I say.
She hesitates for a heartbeat—just long enough to make it a choice—then grips my hand. Her palm is rough, calloused from sewing and drafting. Real. Grounding in a way that pisses me off.
I pull her up.
She stumbles slightly, her body colliding with mine for a fraction of a second before she steadies herself.
She doesn’t step back.
Neither do I.
For a second, we just stand there in the dim light of the stacks, breathing the same air. Contained. Taut. Braced.
There’s a difference.
“Terms start now,” I say.
“Terms start when I say they start,” she counters.
She pulls her hand from mine, grabs her bag, and heads for the aisle.
I watch her go.
Then I follow.
The noise outside is waiting.
But for the first time all day, I think I might be loud enough to drown it out.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 12
