Page 37 of The Prospect

I swallow deeply at the stupidly romantic gesture, one that magically washes away my insecurities as I fall victim to Hart’s longing face. Before I know it, we pull up toward an unfamiliar storefront and shift the gear into park.

“We’re here,” he tells me, unbuckling his seat belt.

I attempt to peer down through the windshield to take in a good look at our destination, but before I can, Hart steps out of the car and walks over to my side to help me out.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he calls me.

My heart flutters.

“I’ve got something I want to show you...”

Intertwining our grasp as one, I rise to my feet and close my door. Hart's skin is rough on his calloused hand, yet his touch is soft—tender—careful.

Once I steady myself, I expect him to let go of my hand, but he doesn’t. Instead, Hart wraps his completely over the top of mine and squeezes down gently as he guides the way.

With the long strides of his legs, I trail behind in his shadow. There’s about a foot height difference between us, it’s intimidating yet somehow, comforting at the same time.

“You alright, Hazel?” Hart peers back at me over his shoulder, slowing down his pace so that I can catch up.

I hastily nod my head and step in close. “Mhm,” I tell him. “I’m okay. Why? Do I not look okay?”

“You look fine, it’s just…you’re so quiet, love.” He pinches along my cheek. “You’ve barely muttered a peep since I picked you up. Has anyone ever told you that you’re as quiet as a mouse?”

“I’ve actually been told the complete opposite.” I laugh, prompting him to raise a brow.

“By who?”

“Green,” I tell him and suddenly, hearing his name as it escapes my lips forces my stomach to drop.

Shoot.

I haven’t messaged him today, and today was the day he said he would tackle his step two with Amira.

Is he with her?

Are they out?

Did she like her flowers?

What did he end up choosing?

“Well do you wanna know what Green told me about you?” Hart’s voice, along with his unwavering touch, brings both my mind and body to a stop, and suddenly, I can no longerthink about Green and Amira’s date. All I think about is how entranced I am by mine.

I smile up at Hart. “Enlighten me.”

“Well, when I asked Green about you, he told me that Hazel Collins only has two loves of her life—art and romance. Is that true?” he asks.

The low hum in his voice sends shivers down my spine and weakens my knees as he steps in closer.

“It is,” I tell him, despite knowing there’s a third love. There’s always been a third.

I brush away the thought.

“But what’s your point?” I can’t help but wonder teasingly. “What exactly are you trying to get at here, Hart?”

“I don’t know.” Dimples form behind the stubble of Hart’s cheeks as he steps aside and swings open a door. “How about you tell me, Hazel? What does this place remind you of?”

With his wide frame no longer blocking the view, the scene in front of me becomes clear as day. Somehow, someway, Hart has managed to combine two of my favorite things in one.

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