Page 85 of Heart Break Her

“So where are we going then?” Cassie asks, looking around for clues, and it makes me laugh.

“Just around the corner. You’ll find out soon enough.”

We’re only a block away. I already hear the music, so I’m sure Cassie does too. She probably thinks we’re here to see a band, but she has no idea my surprise really is for her.

Who am I?

I never surprise chicks with shit. When I go to a new city, it’s usually my goal to find the nearest club to get wasted in. It’s no wonder Eloise asked if I’d had a stroke when I told her my plans for the day.

This is not me.

We turn the corner, and the square comes into view, a whole section of the city tucked away and transformed. Artwork is painted on the walls of buildings. Colors fill the sidewalks and streets. Shit hangs from the damn trees. It’s like a Dr. Suess book come to life. But while it’s cool and all, I’m not focused on the scene ahead of us. I’m looking at Cassie.

Her eyes widen as she takes it all in. Brightness wipes away what hints were left of her tears, and her whole face lights up.

This is what I’d hoped for when I discovered the art festival and made the decision that we had to go. That maybe I’d get to see the look in her eyes that only Cassie can give. Excitement that should be reserved for something big like watching the world get created, but instead, she shows it to something utterly mundane—a street fair.

I mean, I’ve got how much fucking money at this point? We could be on a plane to Paris. We could be fucking on a beach in the Caribbean. We could be doing things much bigger than this. But that’s not Cassie. She’s simple, genuine, perfect.

“This is—” Cassie stops at a two-story tall brick wall that’s covered in a mural. It’s black and white, with a river of color spilling down the middle. It’s pretty fucking cool, even to me. And I don’t really know shit about art except if I like it or not.

Cassie turns toward me, planting her hands on the sides of my face and lifting up on her toes as she pulls my mouth down to hers. This kiss is the opposite of the one on the sidewalk. It’s deep and appreciative, and it burns me up from the inside.

It’s a thank you I’d happily accept more of later.

But she pulls away and starts dragging me through the exhibit before I can carry her back to the hotel.

She has a wide smile on her face as we walk the entire exhibit, which is a lot larger than I thought it was. Blocks and side streets wind with color. Cassie talks about the different influences and how they blend into each other. She knows art like I know music, like it’s imprinted in her soul. And even if I have no idea what she’s talking about, I get lost listening to her mind work.

She’s brilliant, and not just in a book smart kind of way. She reads art like she reads stars in the night sky—in a way no one else can see them. Like how she reads me.

“Wow,” Cassie says for the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes.

We stop at a painted tree with drooping branches. They’re decorated in crystals and gems. A statue of a girl sitting with her head in her hands is beneath it, and the sign labels the piece MEMORY ANARCHIST.

Maybe it’s the words, maybe it’s that I can’t see the statue’s face, but it kind of makes sense.

“I like this one,” I say.

Cassie turns to me and lifts an eyebrow. “He speaks.” She jabs me in the arm.

It’s not like I was intentionally silent, but Cassie hasn’t really stopped talking, and I haven’t wanted her to, so I kept quiet.

“It’s badass,” I tell her, and she smirks at me.

Cassie runs her hand up and down my arm at the comment, and I don’t miss when she bites down on her bottom lip as her fingertips graze my stomach on accident. Her cheeks warm and she tightens her body the slightest against mine.

“Something about this statue of a sad chick turning you on, babe?” I ask her with a cocked eyebrow.

Her eyes dart to me and she leans up to whisper in my ear. “Not the girl, no. But something.”

Cassie skims her hand over the front waistband of my jeans.

Fuck.

I need to stop bringing her out in public because it’s a huge cock block when I want to screw her brains out and there are people everywhere.

Spotting an empty ally to our right, I drag Cassie away from the exhibit and over to it. Dax stands at the entry way, trying to be inconspicuous, but let’s face it. There’s really no way for him to be. The only benefit is that we’re far enough down the alleyway that people can’t really see us that well. We just look like two people checking out an intimate part of the exhibit.

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