Page 43 of Falling For My Best Friend's Brother

“Uh… I actually finished my painting.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Really? When?”

“Two days ago.”

He seemed genuinely pleased. “Sweet. When can I see it?”

A light giggle escaped me. “You already have, remember?”

“That was ages ago, and you weren’t done yet. I want to see the finished work.”

“Why?”

He looked at me like I’d just asked a dumb question. “Because it’s something you’ve been working on for weeks. And ever since I saw it, I’ve wanted to know who would win the battle.”

I squinted my eyes. “What battle?”

“The one between you and your emotions. Did you finally figure them out, or did they consume you?”

Well, shit.I had no idea what to say to that. Was it really a battle? I mean, I’d never thought about it like that. Sure, my emotions were chaotic and downright mind-numbing sometimes, but I never thought about them as something to subdue.

While I was reeling, Knox leaned forward to kiss my lips once more before getting to his feet and grabbing his suitcase. “Have an amazing day, princess. I look forward to seeing your painting when I get back.”

I mustered up a smile for him. “Bye, Knox.”

After he left, I finished up my breakfast, cleaned the dishes, and headed to my room to look at my painting. I was desperate to find out if Knox was telling the truth; his words felt heavy in the air. I pulled off the sheet from the canvas and just stood there for a moment, taking in the wild dance of colors I’d poured my soul into.

With hesitant fingers, I reached out, almost afraid to touch it. This painting was supposed to be my triumph, something I’d decided to do to kick start my artistic journey. But suddenly, I wasn’t so sure.

Was it a declaration of victory, or a chaotic mess of everything I hadn’t figured out? The pinks bled into blues; the blacks crept around hopeful yellows, and there, at the heart of it, was a swirl that made me think of Knox’s eyes when he looked at me, like he could see more than I wanted to show.

So, who won?

This painting was supposed to speak to the viewer, and the message was different for each person. But when I looked at it, I didn’t hear anything. Instead, oddly, it felt likethe paintingwanted to listen tome.And so, when I opened my mouth, it was with every single shred of conviction in my body that I said, “Not today.” I whispered to it, like I was talking to a stubborn rival. “You don’t win today.”

When Lindsay left weeks ago, I was drowning in aimlessness. Stripped of any purpose or desire to be better. I knew what I wanted, but not how to get there. But now that my painting wasfinished, it hit me. I wasn’t just wallowing in cycles of self-pity any longer. I was actually doing something about it. It might not have been a big deal, but Knox said that slow progress was still progress, and what mattered was showing up every single day, even if it felt like nothing was changing.

With renewed determination, I fished out my iPad and snapped photos of the finished piece. I carefully crafted profiles on Craigslist, Etsy, and eBay. I listed it at five thousand dollars—a starting point that felt both daring and humbling because I knew it held far more value to me than any number.

It took me the entire afternoon to get it done. There were no notifications yet, but I was hopeful that someone would message me soon. Fingers crossed.

I smiled to myself. Truly, progress was progress. I felt much better than I did yesterday. Once I finished, I rearranged my room and took a shower. It was past four already. Knox would be home soon.

I blushed, smiling.Home.I’d begun to see our living arrangement as permanent, which was ridiculous because his house renovations were almost done. I heard him on the phone with the contractor a few days ago. One day, he would move out and I would be alone.

Would we still meet up and fuck? Would he still want me when he didn’t see me every day? When he was horny and there were other women around? Would I still be his princess?

I didn’t like to think about it because it made me sad. Obviously, I knew that this thing between me and Knox was bound to end one day, but that knowledge did little to stop my feelings from growing with each passing day. So, for now, all I could do was ride this wave out until the storm passed and I had to pick myself up from the ground, alone.

Just because I didn’t feel like cooking, I ordered two pizzas. Knox had an enormous appetite, and I knew he would be hungry by the time he got back. So, when a knock sounded on the door, I expected it to be the delivery guy.

But when I pulled the door open, I froze. It wasn’t my pizza, and it sure as hell wasn’t Knox.

“Hey, Nina,” he said.

“Michael?”

Chapter sixteen

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