Page 36 of Sinful Skulls
She looks at me in disbelief. “How did I meet you again?” She laughs lightly.
“Well, you can thank my friend JD for that. He’s the one who drug my ass to the beach that day.”
When she pulls her phone from her pocket, I notice it’s powered off. She runs her thumb over the screen. It’s obvious she’s debating turning it on.
“Is there something more going on?”
When she doesn’t look at me or answer, I take that as a yes.
“You can use mine. No worries.” I pull it out of my pocket and hand it to her.
“I just don’t want to see the messages right now, you know?”
It’s something more than that, but I’m not going to push her. We’ll eventually get there. One step at a time. I’m just glad she got some sleep.
We find an art store, and she fills the cart with enthusiasm. It’s all good till we roll up to the checkout. She throws a complete fit when I won’t let her pay with the cash she pulled out of her account earlier.
She’s still pouting with her arms crossed when we get back on the road. “Why wouldyoupay for my art supplies?”
I’m not going to argue with her about this. I was the one who suggested she paint. “You’re cute when you’re all worked up.”
“I have money, you know.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
She huffs, finally giving in.
“Did you miss me?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Did you miss me?” she fires back.
“Fuck yeah, I did.”
My honesty makes her smile. “Well, I guess I missed you a little too.” Her shy grin tells me a different story.
I reach over and take her hand in mine. “My friend has a cabin up here. It’s the perfect spot to get creative.”
Her hazel eyes shine in the bright sunlight. “I do appreciate your help.”
“I was thinking maybe you could call the dean and tell him you just need a little time. I hate to see you throw away the opportunity to study in Paris. We could spend a week or two in the mountains, and then we can fly back.”
“I’m never going back to France.” She stares at the road ahead of us. “Wait, did you saywe?”
“Yeah, I’ll go with you.”
Her brows rise. “Brody. You’d go to Paris with me?”
“For you,” I tell her. Paris is not on my bucket list, but I’ll go wherever this girl wants to go.
She shakes her head in disbelief. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going back. I didn’t like it there.”
I get the feeling it’s not the country, or even the city, she didn’t like. Something about the school has freaked her out.
“You said the dean was your uncle, so is your biological family originally from there?”
Her hands slide under her legs. “Yeah. It’s so beautiful up here,” she says in attempt to change the subject.
I’ll let it go for now.
