Page 135 of The Art of Us by Symone

THIRTY-FOUR

My house is grim that evening.

Dad stays on the phone throughout, canceling orders and returning deposits, talking to the insurance company, and thanking friends for their concerns.

Momma looks so hurt for him, but I can tell she’s trying to hold it together and support Dad.

I haven’t told my parents there’s a chance it might be someone from the academy. I don’t want them to think it’s because of dating Brandon and resent him. He already feels guilty.

Entering the kitchen the next morning, I find Momma pouring coffee into a thermos.

“Morning,” I mutter.

She offers a small smile. “Morning, baby. Malcolm already left to meet Rochelle and Isaiah to start the cleanup. They’ll probably be there until late.”

“Oh.” I mosey to the counter to toast bread to eat with the porridge she made. “I’ll stop by the bakery after school and help out.”

Momma shakes her head. “No, no. Your dad is afraid you’ll get hurt by the glass. I agree. Think it’s safer to stay away until it’s cleaned.” She sighs heavily.

I frown. “How long before the insurance money comes in?”

“Probably a week or so. The company is investigating on their own. That’s a common practice.”

“Hm.” I consider a moment. “Maybe Dad could work from home until then? Just focus on small deliveries?”

“Perhaps.” She grabs a lid for the Tupperware with her avocado salad. “I still can’t believe someone did that. I mean, West Heights isn’t a bad place. No other business has had problems before.”

I lower my gaze, thinking about how someone damaged my dad’s bakery out of spite.

The toast pops up, snapping me out of my head.

“Well, I have to go, honey,” Momma says, placing her food and snacks into a tote. “Brandon coming?”

“Mm-hm.” A smile tugs at my lips while I spread grape jam on my bread.

“Look at you fighting back a grin,” she teases. She gives my arm a playful poke. “You love that boy, don’t you?”

I twist my mouth shyly. “I...don’t know.”

She chuckles and pats my back. “The heart always knows, honey.” With that, she heads out.

Maybe I do love Brandon. Every time our eyes meet, my body becomes an inferno, and my heart gallops like a racehorse.

I relish his attention. His intensity. The way he stares at me, and the secure way he holds me now that he’s able to withstand touch.

Gawd! I love those hungry kisses and euphoric sex.

Brandon arrives shortly. The second I’m in the car, I lean over for a sensual kiss.

He pulls his mouth into a half-smile once our lips part. “Morning to you, too.”

I beam at him and gently graze his jaw, feeling his fresh stubble.

We stare at each other without speaking for what feels like an eternity until Brandon takes off from my house.

“How’s the situation with the bakery?” he asks.

I sigh before answering. “No suspects yet. As for the insurance, hopefully, it kicks in sooner than later, so Dad can start repair.”

---