Page 49 of Lessons in Heartbreak

Ruby was quiet for a moment. “People get used to seeing you in a certain light. Even if you change, their perception stays the same.” Her eyes darted over to mine. “It’s hard to overcome that, don’t you think?”

It was hard to swallow because it echoed so much of what I’d thought when talking to Marcus. When talking toeveryone. I gave her a jerky nod. “Yeah. I do.”

“Why’d you come to hang out here?” she asked. “I was half expecting you to be waiting at the front doors when I unlocked them this morning.”

“It’s a beautiful spot. And don’t worry, I had every intention of coming in to pester you about what we’re doing later tonight once I was done with my phone call. I had a couple ideas, if you’re open.”

“I can’t do anything tonight, unfortunately.”

“Why not?”

Did I sound pouty? I felt it. I must have, because Ruby smiled begrudgingly, gesturing to the library. “We’re holding a community event tonight. I was going to attend and help out, but ...”

At the way her voice trailed off, I thought something was wrong. But when I glanced over, she was staring at me. “What?” Her smile started small, then grew. That dimple appeared in her cheek, and fuck me if it wasn’t adorable. “What?” I asked again, more suspicious this time. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re coming with me,” she said.

“I thought I was the pushy one in this relationship.”

“You are. I’m not being pushy. I’m being confident.”

“What’s the event?”

“Oh, I’m not telling you.” She patted my arm. “Trust me, it’ll fit into your ‘important first few steps’ plan perfectly.”

Chapter ThirteenRuby

“Everyone, you have five minutes before we show our partners what we’ve been working on. Five minutes,” the instructor reminded us.

Brow furrowed as I studied what was in front of me, I paused to select a new brush, then dipped it into the white paint for some extra shading. When I glanced up over the top of my canvas, I had to dig my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Griffin was frowning at his painting, muttering something under his breath. The woman wandering around the room stopped behind him to set her hand on his shoulder and give him some encouragement.

“Maybe you could try some of that,” she said. “Fill in some of the negative space around her head.”

He fixed his dubious facial expression on the canvas, then on me. “Do you think that will help?”

Her pause was telling, and I lost my battle, laughing into the back of my hand.

Griffin looked up, eyes locked on me, and he arched an eyebrow slowly. “What are you laughing at, birdy? For all I know, you’re just as bad at this as I am.”

“You’re right, I might be,” I said lightly, ducking in to sweep the skinny brush along the edge of his face. Then I picked up a dampsponge to create the texture I wanted. He watched me warily, then glanced back at his artwork with a sigh.

“I can’t believe you roped me into this,” he muttered.

Confidence building, as it turned out, was forcing the big athlete to do a craft with me and another thirty people from town. We’d transformed the inside of the library into a painting studio with long tables set up parallel to each other, every attendee supplied with an easel and a canvas, a stack of brushes in various shapes and sizes, and a palette of acrylic paint.

After seeing some videos on social media, Lauren had the brilliant idea to set up an evening at the library—Paint Your Partner Night. The assignment was simple: to paint the likeness of the person sitting across from you, be it friend or significant other, and once you were both done, show your paintings off for all to see.

We’d brought in Melanie, an art teacher from Fort Collins, who agreed to help out, and the library charged a set fee to cover our costs for the supplies and allow for some small fundraising to help us replace some of the items in the children’s playroom.

Griffin had been recognized by one couple, but they did nothing more than wave excitedly when they saw him from across the room, and he gave a friendly nod in return. So far, no one had asked for his picture or autograph, and it made me wonder how much longer that would be the case when news got out that he’d signed with Denver.

Celebrity was a strange thing, and it was hard for me to picture him in that role, even knowing what I knew now. Again tonight, he was dressed simply—a light-blue long-sleeve T-shirt, pushed up to expose his muscular forearms, and dark jeans that hugged his tree-trunk thighs. After work, I’d changed, knowing what we’d be doing.

When he saw my shirt, he smirked—an ornate logo with the wordsPemberley & Derbyshire—and I felt a zing of pride that he recognized the reference.

He did not smirk, however, when he realized what we’d be doing.

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