“You. Cast. Vincent.” I bite my lip, but quickly release it whenDamien growls. “Since being with you three. I don’t feel that out of control anymore. You guys ground me. I feel stable.”
He exhales, shaking his head. “That’s a damn shame.”
My brows pull together. “What?”
“I love your art.” He sighs leaning back with his arms tucked behind his head.
I toss a pillow over his face. “You’ve never seen my art.”
He pulls the pillow behind his head and wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Wrong!”
“When did you see it?”
“I would sneak into Miss Robinson’s room.” He says nonchalantly and my eyes bug out of my head.
I gape at him, completely floored. “Yousnuckinto Miss Robinson’s classroom?”
He grins, dimples on full display. “Technically, Iwalkedin.”
“Youbroke in?” I clarify, sitting up straighter.
Damien snorts. “It wasn’t exactly Fort Knox, Trouble. The door was open half the time.”
I groan, dropping my head into my hands. “Oh my God.”
He nudges my thigh with his knee. “Relax. It’s not like I stole anything. I just wanted to see what you were working on.”
I peek at him through my fingers. “And you didn’t think to—I don’t know—askme?”
“Would you have shown me?”
I open my mouth, ready to sayyes… but the truth sticks in my throat. Because he’s right. Iwouldn’thave.
I used to guard my art like a secret, terrified of what people would see in it—what they’d see inme.
Damien’s expression softens like he can read every thought flickering across my face. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs.
I blow out a breath, flopping back onto the blanket. “I can’t believe you were creeping on my paintings this whole time.”
“Notcreeping,” he corrects, shifting onto his side to face me. “Admiring. There’s a difference.”
I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest betrays me.
“You’re insanely good, Willow,” he says, his voice quieter now. “You should never stop.”
I turn my head, meeting his gaze. There’s no teasing there, no smirk, just quiet certainty. “And what about you?”
“What about me?” He shrugs.
“You haven’t gotten back on the ice since your concussion.”
Damien exhales, his gaze flickering to the horizon for a moment before he meets my eyes again. "I had to recover and then you had surgery."
I raise an eyebrow, not backing down. “And obviously, I’m fine.” I point at my body, shaking my head with a small laugh. “What gives?”
He shifts, sitting up a little straighter, a quiet tension settling around him. “It’s not about the surgery, Willow.”
I frown, studying him. “Then what is it?”