Page 36 of The Artist and the Muse

So I closed my laptop and let her wake up on her own as the beverage cart rolled down the aisle toward us. She blinked awake sleepily, yawning in the most adorable way. Few people would call Georgia Philips adorable—she was too tall, too fierce, too intimidating—but to me… to me, she was everything. Everything I could ever want.

When she realized her head was resting on my shoulder, she jumped upright in her seat, her body going rigid.

“How long was I asleep?” she whispered, her tone harsh.

I shrugged. “You basically fell asleep as soon as the plane took off.”

“And you didn’t wake me?”

“You looked like you needed the sleep.”

“Telling a woman she looks tired is always the best approach.”

“I figured you didn’t want me to tell you you’re beautiful. You could get that anywhere else.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. And in my heart of hearts, I knew—even if I knew nothing else about her—that she hated to be complimented on her looks.

“What can I get you to drink?” the flight attendant asked.

I ordered an Earl Grey tea with cream. Georgia got a black coffee, and the lady in the aisle seat asked for a ginger ale.

“Since when do you drink your coffee black?” I asked Georgia once the flight attendant had finished giving us all our drinks. The lights had dimmed around us after the beverage carts were put away, and most people were sleeping, so I kept my voice quiet.

She shrugged. The sleeve of her blazer slipped down and I could see the sharp edge of her collarbone. Seeing her waste away like this made me want to break something—whether it was the rules, my own heart, or whoever was telling her not to eat, I hadn't decided yet.

“Since I started liking how it tastes.” She took a sip and grimaced.

I pointed at her scowl. “That is not the face of a woman who likes her coffee black.”

“How are my dietary habits any of your business?” she snapped, still keeping her voice hushed. She stared longingly at the little packet of cream I’d been given by the flight attendant. I opened it and dumped it into her coffee.

“Since you’re my student. Getting enough sleep and eating a healthy diet are important parts of learning.”

“Stop pretending you care about all your students equally, Mr. Devereaux.”

“Then stop pretending you don’t care about me at all, Georgia.”

She downed her coffee and glared at me. “I don’t have to pretend.”

“Is your reverse psychology working on you?”

Looking at her was dangerous. I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to look away.

“Okay, fine.” Her voice was a murmur. “Even if I cared about you—which I don’t—it’s only in a completely academic way.”

Very academic, I wanted to say. I wanted to slide my hand toward her until it brushed hers. Wanted to lean over and kiss her, tray tables and other passengers be damned.

“Even if I were only your teacher,” I said quietly, “I’d care about you. And I’d care about the fact that I haven’t seen you eat anything more substantial than rabbit food in the past few months.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I eat.” As if on cue, her stomach growled. I wished she could have proved me wrong—that she could have vindicated her own protests. That she was healthy and happy and sleeping enough, instead of looking placidly at the flight map in front of her with dark circles beneath her eyes and too-hollow cheekbones.

“Or do you pretend to eat? Pretend that you’re healthy and everything is going perfectly in your life when it isn’t?” I studied her profile again in the faint lighting. If I were a sculptor, I’d immortalize her in marble and call the statuewoman in denial.

“Ugh.” She shut her eyes, pressing her palms against her face. I thought for a moment that she might cry. The thought pierced my heart like a thorn, and I felt a twinge of remorse for pushing her. “I’m fine, George. Stop hovering over me. We both know you don’t care about me when you’re the one who ended things between us.”

“Because they werefake,“ I hissed. “Because I wanted them to be real.”

She jerked her head over to look at me. “Don’t lie to me, George.”

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