Page 22 of Dragon Prince of New York

“Um, I guess.” The thought of him seeing my work makes me feel a little jittery. The last piece I showed anyone but Sora was my final project, and it didn’t exactly go well. Then again, my professor was sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back at the time.

We stop talking and fall into a rhythm, swimming from one end of the pool to the other. Neither of us seems to be going all out, just casually swimming laps. Each time one of us reaches the end of the pool, we pause, waiting for the other, waiting to see if the other will say anything. When neither of us do, we swim another lap.

It goes on like that for a while until Cyrus asks, “Why did youchoose Prague? It’s a beautiful city, but there are lots of other art schools around the world. Why there?”

I hate this question. It makes me feel like a fool. “My ex wanted to go there.”

“What happened?”

I sink under the water, taking a moment to gather my thoughts before answering. When I break the surface, he’s looking at me, expectant. There’s no judgment in his gaze, just curiosity. He looks more relaxed and open than I’ve ever seen him, and that makes me want to tell him my deepest truth.

“I wasn’t enough.”

His lips thin into a straight line and his eyes take on a deep intensity as he cuts through the water, closing the gap that separates us. Directly in front of me, he holds my gaze, but he doesn’t say anything. I can’t tell if he’s just waiting for me to go on or if he’s silently agreeing.

“It doesn’t matter. We broke up almost a year ago. I stayed in Prague even after graduating because I didn’t want everyone to think he’d chased me off. But over time, most of my friends… well, everyone just sort of left, and Jess said she was pregnant, and—”

Cyrus puts one finger to my mouth. “Shhh.” His calloused skin drags along my bottom lip. “Why do you think youweren’t enough?”

“Because I wasn’t. He cheated on me.”

A guttural noise comes from Cyrus, something like a growl that makes my insides clench. I didn’t know a person could make a noise like that. I feel it from my chest down to my toes.

“It’s not just that.” I put a step of distance between us. “Tim was never really present, even when we were together. He was always looking for something better, different, more exciting. I could never hold his attention.”

Cyrus’s jaw flexes. “This is the guy who used to stare at your friend’s chest?”

I nod, looking down at my feet under the water.

“I thought we addressed this the other day.” Cyrus crowds close to me again. “He’s the one who wasn’t good enough, Finley.” He backs me against the edge of the pool, arms bracketing either side of me. “You deserve someone who’s crazy about you, who respects you, who wants to be with you so badly it’s painful to be apart.”

His eyes do that thing Midas’s do sometimes where it looks like little flames are dancing in the center. Must be a genetic trait.

Concerned creases form on his smooth face, and I want toease them away. So I draw my fingers along his temple and down to the edge of his mouth.

He stands very still, his eyes never leaving mine. I trace the line of his jaw before he takes hold of my hand and places a soft kiss in the center of my palm. I feel that kiss in every cell of my body.

“I wish I could make you see yourself the way I see you,” he whispers.

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough to see that you’re passionate.” He kisses the tip of my fingers. “Intelligent.” His lips touch the inside of my wrist. “Creative. And Loyal. And so goddamn beautiful it makes me weak.”

“I’m also forgetful, inattentive, needy, and have a mouth like a fucking sailor. Not exactly winning characteristics.”

He gives me a sensual smile and drops his gaze to my lips. “I happen to like your mouth.”

My belly swoops, and my insides hum with anticipation. His thumb grazes across my mouth and every thought in my head vanishes along with my breath.

“Prove it,” I challenge.

His throat bobs, and he closes his eyes. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Right. I’m not old enough.” I push his shoulders,creating a few feet of space between us. My chest heaves, anger closing in on the bubbly feeling I was experiencing a minute ago. “You can say I’m incredible all you want, but if you don’t act on it, then—”

"I can't!" He's almost yelling as he pulls even farther away. "Don't you get that?"

"Oh, I get it." He might be attracted to me, but he doesn't want an actual relationship. Hey, at least he's not leading me on when there's no future. But he's an asshole for making up some lame excuse like my age, rather than owning up to his own fear about commitment. No matter how much I might dream about being the woman who makes him want drop his walls, it's just not true. "Believe me I get it."

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