Page 83 of Dare To Live

“But—”

“You liked that painting I donated to Gabe’s charity event last night?”

“Yes, I did,” I admit softly. “To be honest, I admired the pieces I saw in Ivan’s gallery, but I had no idea it was you until I saw the sketch of me in the private display.”

“So, you’re a fan?” There’s a teasing note to his tone. One I’ve only heard a few times throughout our history.

“I like art. I felt an emotional connection to your pieces. After learning you were Sin, I know why.” I turn my face away from him and stare out the window at the passing streets beyond. “They echo the past.”

“Churchill Bradley Academy.” Eli’s voice is low.

“Where everything started.”

Eli is silent for a beat. “That’s in the past. We’re different people now.”

“Is it? Are we?” I twist back to him and study his face. “I see it mirrored in all your paintings, and I know it still haunts me.”

“Ari—”

I shake my head quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why this all spilled out tonight.”

His attention flicks down to my lap, where my hands are clasped tightly together. “You’re tense.”

“A little nervous.”

“Of what? Going out to dinner with friends?”

“Yes,” I reply, and turn away from him.

I’m scared of going out with you. Of opening a door to something that will break me.

“Look at me.” Placing his finger under my chin, he draws my face back around to him. “Don’t get stuck inside your head.”

My eyes move to his mouth, the same mouth that gave me so much pleasure last night. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. We might not have been together long, Ari, but that’s one thing I do know about you. I doubt it’s changed. You overthink things.”

“Miles says the same thing.” Chills race up and down my spine at his touch.

He releases me and settles back. “Let’s just see what happens. One step at a time. Can you do that for me?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him we only have tonight because I’m flying home tomorrow morning, but I don’t. Instead, I nod.

Chapter 46

Eli

“What would you like to drink?” I hand Arabella’s coat to the woman standing beside the cloakroom check-in and take the ticket in return.

“A glass of wine would be lovely, thank you.”

My hand drops to the small of her back and I guide her across to the bar. The female bartender smiles at me.

“A glass of white wine and a bourbon, please.”

“Coming right up.”

“What did Gabe mean last night when he said he wants to do a photoshoot amongst your stained glass?”

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