Page 81 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

Is she writing a fucking novel?

I’m about to message her again and demand that she delete my number, but she finally responds.

CRAZY MIGRAINE:

-I want to be yours.

It took her that long to write the same thing? Is she fucking kidding me?

She’s fucking crazy. A psychopath. Insane.

I stare at the text message. It's such a cute thing to say to someone if they were anything special to each other, but this? I don’t know if I want to cry out of frustration because of how annoying she is or grin because she knows how to stroke an ego. Does she really want me this bad?

No.

She’s crazy.

The intelligent thing to do would be to ignore her advances until she grows bored of me. Yeah, that’s it. I may be losing control of where my life is heading, but when it comes to this shit? I’m in control.

Sorry, Briar, but we’re not good for each other.

*-*-*-*

“So this is where you’ve been running.”

I slow down the treadmill so I’m power-walking instead of running. I turn my headphones off and glare at the person who interrupted me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss at Briar.

Without meaning to, my gaze flickers over her ensemble. Her dark curls are swept back in a carefree bun. She’s wearing a snug, dark gray sweatshirt, which reveals a glimpse of her belly button, paired with sleek black biker shorts.

How she can make gym clothes look sexy as fuck confuses me — and also pisses me off.

She blinks at me as she walks on the treadmill beside me. “I’m working out? Just like you?”

“But why here? There are plenty of other cardio machines. Go use them instead, and leave me the hell alone.”

Feeling on the brink of snapping, I quickly replace my headphones, drowning out Briar’s endless chatter with music as I up the treadmill's speed and transition into a jog. Despite my health's fragility, my doctor stresses the significance of physical activity. Thankfully, I found a balance with my jogging routine that seemed to be working well.

After completing five kilometers, I slam my finger down to reduce the treadmill's speed. It had taken me about 30 minutes to reach that distance, and I'm genuinely surprised that Briar hadn't interrupted me. I thought she had finally listened to me and left me alone in peace.

However, when I glance beside me, a groan escapes my lips as I spot her power walking on an incline. She turns her head, flashes me a grin, and winks.

Fucking brat.

Not wanting her to ruin my workout, I look straight ahead and continue power-walking to start cooling down. I glance at my watch and raise a brow.

Wow, it’s been 5 minutes, and she hasn’t tried to speak to me again. Okay, maybe she is here to work out and not fuck with me.

“Hey, angel?”

For fucks sake.

I ignore her, pretending to stare out the window ahead of us as I walk.

“I had a lot of fun last night.”

Still going to ignore her.

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