Page 157 of Brazen Mistakes

I shake my head, too many emotions flooding me, especially after my conversation with RJ yesterday. “But what about all my fear? The indecision and fucking mental breakdowns?”

“Strength isn’t holding up the world on your shoulders without crumbling. It’s bending without breaking, and it’s getting back up again when life knocks you down. It’s facing the world head-on and making it work for you. That’s the strength you have in spades, Clara.”

Another view of me. Unlike the roles I’ve been playing, though, this one feels true. Like my bravery last night and this morning.

Is it really that simple? I hate losing. I always have. So, of course, there’s no choice besides getting back up and trying again.

Thatisa choice, though, even if it doesn’t feel like one. Every day, I get up and decide to keep fighting for what I want. For the safety of the people I love. For my own safety. For all of us to get our storybook happy ending, together.

My heart flies, a piece of myself fitted in my chest that I hadn’t realized I’d lost. The knowledge that being hurt, being scared, isn’t weak. Because despite my obstacles, I’m still working toward what I want.

These men might have invited me into their world of gray morality and broken laws, but I’m the one who’s choosing to stay.

And I love it almost as much as I love them.

I’m not weak just because I’m a little busted. And I’m never going to be a badass bitch or ice queen, not in my heart. But I am going to be a criminal. And the adventure that’s going to bring me on is bound to be amazing.

I set aside the sketchbook and wrap myself around him, holding onto the burst of clarity I’ve found in his arms. And it feels good. Easy even.

When was the last time anything in my life was easy?

I honestly don’t know. But right now, curled up against Walker, it is.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He tilts my head back, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss so precious, so achingly sweet, that the tears I’ve been forcing away for weeks blur my vision. I let them fall, not afraid of looking weak.

“I’m glad you’re in my life, Clara. Every day with you in it is better than any day without you. No matter what, I’m here. To catch you, to cheer you on, to hold you. Even when I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, know I’m trying my best, to be my best, for you.”

“I know.”

Surrounded by his comfort, his perspective, I return the same honesty he gifted me. “Your drawings of us are beautiful, Walker. You should consider selling your own work.”

His scoff has me forcing my gaze to his. “My stuff isn’t that good. It’s all reductive and flashy. Too baroque in style with a modern color palette. It’s not salable.”

“I like your art.”

“You’re supposed to, princess.”

I wish he could see what I can. That he’s amazing. At everything he does. “Promise me you’ll think about it?”

His silence worries me. I already regret pushing him, even though I only want him to see that he’s an incredible artist, not just an incredible forger.

Eventually, long after I’ve given up on his agreement, he sighs. “I promise.”

Sleep comes like a hum from a plane over the horizon as we cuddle, but it comes, the slow rise and fall of Walker’s chest a lullaby under my ear. When his phone buzzes, it pulls me to the surface just enough for a flash of sadness to ricochet through me as he slips from the couch. But he presses a kiss to my head before he goes, not knowing I’m awake, and I let the sadness go.

He loves me.

And together, we’re going to figure this out.

Chapter 56

Jansen

As usual, waiting in the van might as well be going to the dentist. Just as much fun, and I’m just as much of a mess afterwards.

The first few hours I annoy RJ, then the next few I do some meditations, but it’s not centering like it should be. My mind’s a fuzzy mess no matter what I do right now.