Page 101 of The Bridges I've Burned

“Wow,” I breathed out as I stepped inside. “Is this Marin’s studio?”

Elena was in front of a large easel, her eyes fixed on an unfinished painting of the harbor. At the sound of my voice, those chocolate-brown eyes drifted toward me.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Macon helped her with it. Pretty great, right?”

I took a look around, noticing the sink they’d installed in the corner and the flooring that would stand up perfectly to paint. “It’s perfect,” I stated, walking toward the wall of cabinets near the door that looked like they housed every damn paint color known to man. “I thought you came inside to grab some food?”

“I was. I am,” she insisted, moving toward the door. “I just needed a minute.”

“Why?” I prodded.

Her mouth opened, but no answer came. Instead, she tried to squeeze past me to leave. I took a step back, grabbed the handle of the door, and swung it closed.

The lock clicked in place with the push of my thumb.

Her eyes widened, and I asked one more time, “Why?”

She visibly swallowed. “Because, Zander, this…is confusing.” She motioned between the two of us. “I don’t know what the hell it even is, and I’m not used to feeling like this.”

“Like what?”

“Out of control,” she confessed. “Powerless.”

I took a step forward, and she took one back.

“I like casual relationships,” she stated like it was a fact from one of her cases. “I think I might even prefer them because looking back, even my ex was basically just a long-term friends-with-benefits arrangement.”

Hearing her talk about a boyfriend, even an ex, had me all sorts of jealous.

“So, if that’s what you want, I can do that,” she tried to assure me, but I saw doubt swimming in those brown irises.

“But?” I pressed, taking another step forward.

She stood still, our bodies now mere inches from each other.

“But when I think about us leaving here in a week and you going on the road in September with groupies and hot musicians, I get?—”

My fingers closed over her chin, and I tilted her head toward me. I couldn’t help the smirk that spread across my face. “Are you jealous, Louie?”

“No,” she scoffed, tearing her chin from my grip. Her arms were closed around her chest in a frustrated movement as she turned away from me. “Okay, fine, yes! And this is what I mean about feeling out of control. I am not a jealous person. Especially over a guy I’ve known for two fucking weeks.”

My smirk turned into a wide-toothed grin at this point.

I was beginning to think I was the only person in the world who could upend Elena’s world this spectacularly. It was only fair though because my life had been completely upside down since the moment I’d stepped into that karaoke bar.

I closed the distance between us once more, her back now to my front. “I don’t know where this is going either,” I said, leaning over her. “But, I’m right there with you on the jealousy thing. The very mention of your ex has me feeling murderous.”

She snorted out a laugh.

“I don’t know what will happen in a week, let alone two months, but after that moment in the dressing room, I sure as fuck don’t want to waste any more time worrying about it when we have so little to begin with. Do you?”

She turned to face me, her eyes alight with fire. “No.”

“Good.” I palmed her cheek. “There is just one little thing we need to take care of though.”

Her brow furrowed as I stepped back and grabbed the back of my shirt, removing it with one swift tug. Her eyes widened and then heated.

“I can’t have you feeling powerless, Elena.”

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