Page 115 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

I stop abruptly. Fuck, I sound so needy right now, don’t I?

Get it together, Briar. Calm down.

So, remember that feeling of ecstasy I had felt when I saw him again today?

Yeah, that’s gone.

Long gone.

In fact, I’m fucking pissed now. I’m seething with anger and hurt.

I thought he came to me because he actually cared, but obviously not. I reach my breaking point when Rurik remains silent and only glares at me with his jaw clenched tightly.

I close my eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Blackness threatens to take a step in my vision again.

Shit.

Not again.

I open my eyes and mutter a lie, “I gotta go. Bridesmaids duties.”

I run the hell out of there. I can’t do this anymore. I’m so done chasing after that asshole.

It’s obvious he wants nothing to do with me, so why do I keep chasing him over and over? Why do I pursue someone just to grasp the connection I'm clearly fabricating in my mind?

I shake my head, clearing my throat and forcing a grin when I spot Nat and Oscar dancing on the dance floor. I should be out there, celebrating my best friends.

Not me here on the side sulking because of some dick. Literally.

I push my shoulders back and lift my chin.

Fuck Rurik Campbell.

I’ll find someone else who appreciates all of me. Bruises and busted lips included.

Chapter 18

Briar

“Hey.”

I tear my gaze away from my friends to look at the man talking to me. He has dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and an easy-going grin with adorable dimples on his cheeks.

“Hello,” I say in return. I tilt my head to the side, taking in his handsome face and down to his tasteful outfit.

Okay… He’s cute. Obviously not in the same league as Rurik, but still…

“Are you with the bride or groom?” Cute Stranger asks.

I chuckle, lifting my bridesmaid outfit. “Take a wild guess.”

I watch his cheeks turn pink, and he rolls his eyes at himself.

“Right,” He chuckles, “Sorry. Stupid question.”

“It’s okay,” I grin, feeling slightly lighter again.

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