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Chapter Three

Now

Kicking a stray pebble down the sidewalk, I shove my hands in the pockets of my jacket and stare down at the ground as I walk, doing my best to not think about all the things that I’ve lost but on days like today, that’s nearly impossible. Before I met Ryan, I spent my Saturdays at the market, selling my art and meeting new people until the sun went down. It was probably my favorite place in the whole world but it’s hard to sell art when you’re not making anything new. I don’t know what to do with myself now that I can’t paint. I’m lost and so I wander but nothing ever helps with this deep ache in my chest.

I wish that I could say there was one defining moment that stole my art from me but I can’t. Even now, when I think back, I don’t remember the last thing I painted because I didn’t realize it would be my last. I thought I’d always have my art, that there would always be another painting but he proved me wrong. I went from painting for hours a day to nothing and it’s left a gaping hole in my life that I constantly struggle to fill. I’ve started so many pieces in the past year, only to give up halfway through when that little voice in my head starts second-guessing every single brushstroke and in my frustration, the canvas ends up in the trash. After that, I mope for a few days and start the same process all over again like I’m locked in some kind of purgatory.

“Well, well, well. It must be my lucky day,” a smooth, deep voice says and all the hair on my arms stands on end. I recognize it instantly because it’s the same voice that’s been playing on a loop in my dreams for the last three days.

“Phoenix,” I breathe out, nerves lining my tone as relief washes through me, confusing the hell out of me. His blue eyes sparkle with genuine happiness that catches me off guard. There’s something different about him, something pure that seems to shine through every smile and every look. I get the feeling that I wouldn’t ever have to worry about ulterior motives or schemes because he means what he says and says what he means. One side of his mouth tips up in a grin and I realize that I’ve just been openly staring at him for longer than is acceptable.

“How are you, Emma?”

I nod, twisting my fingers together nervously. “Uh, I’m good. You?”

“My day is certainly looking up,” he replies, putting a little emphasis behind his words and I feel my cheeks heat. God, what does this man do to me? “You going somewhere?”

My gaze rakes over his body and as I appreciate the way the sleeves of his plain black t-shirt strain around his large biceps, I question his interest in me. Why me? Why would a man like Phoenix West waste any time on a girl like me? Can’t he see that I’m broken? Maybe this is all a game to him and he’s just much better at it than Ryan was.

“No, not really. I’m just kind of wasting some time.”

He smiles and something about the way he looks at me makes me think that he doesn’t buy my excuse. It’s like he can knock down all my defenses with just a look.

“Perfect. Want to waste some time with me? We could grab lunch.”

My jaw drops and I glance around like the perfect excuse is going to fall from the sky and land in my hands. Truthfully, I’d love to get lunch with Phoenix but it’s a terrible idea for so many reasons.

“I…uh…I have to get going soon.”

He smirks, not the least bit deterred by my refusal. “Where? I’m pretty sure you just told me you didn’t have anything to do.”

I take a step back. “I have to get to work.”

“When?” he asks, glancing down at his watch and I whisper a curse. It’s barely noon and the bar doesn’t even open until four so I’ve got nothing but time. Even if it took us a couple hours to eat, I would still get home in plenty of time to shower and get ready.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Uh…”

With that damn charming smile on his face, he takes a step toward me and holds his hand out, palm up. “Come on, Emma? Please? I just want to grab a meal with you and I promise I’m a nice guy. Besides, I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

My traitorous stomach chooses that exact moment to grumble loudly and his smile grows as his outstretched hand inches closer to me. The earnest look on his face hits me right in the chest and I know that I’m going to fold like a cheap suit. How could I possibly say no right now?

“This is just lunch,” I whisper, slipping my hand into his and sucking in a breath at just how good it feels. He beams at me, dazzling me with a full on mega-watt smile and my lips twitch as I fight back a grin of my own.

“I know this great little burger place just one block that way,” he says, pointing behind me and I nod awkwardly, pulling my hand free. He grins as he looks down the sidewalk and we start off in silence, close enough to touch but neither one of us making the first move. God, why the hell did I pull my hand away? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this man in the three days since I last saw him and now I’m acting completely insane. My skin tingles and I wish that I hadn’t jerked my hand away. My heart races at the thought of him intertwining our fingers and pulling me closer to him. After that, I can’t help but wonder what his lips would feel like pressed against mine. Would they be soft? Commanding? Would that sizzle I felt when we touched several days ago explode and consume us both?

It annoys me that I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. We only spent a couple hours together but there was definitely something there. But, what? What is it about this man that I’ve heard stories about my whole life but never laid eyes on until now that gets to me? It feels almost like he calls to me on a deeper level. Maybe it’s just because I’ve known Moe so long and Moe always talks about him. The more I think about it, that has to be it. Right? Except the moment that I close my eyes, he’s staring back at me and my heart kicks into gear, pounding against my ribs at a furious pace. I am at war. My head, the always-practical part of me, is screaming to just forget about him, saying that I can’t afford to take a chance on him. My heart, though, my heart is telling me that I shouldn’t ignore this. That this is different, special. But can I trust myself? I’ve just been going around in circles for three days and never getting anywhere. One minute, I decide that I should go for it, but it doesn’t take long for the fear to take hold and remind me why I need to be careful.

“Here we are,” he says, his voice cutting through my thoughts and I startle. He places his hand on my back. “Did I scare you?”

“Sorry. I was just lost in thought.”

“I can tell. Care to share?”

My cheeks flush and I shake my head. “No.”