Page 65 of Her Airman

Chapter Twenty-Two

Zane hesitated outsideRiley’s door, trying to bring down his racing pulse. She’d called him. She sounded happy to talk to him, but she wanted a serious conversation. That was either great news or not. She didn’t mention his confession that morning, and he didn’t know how to interpret that. He raised his hand to knock, and the door flew open before his knuckles pulled away from the first rap.

Riley’s cheeks were pink. He was pretty sure that had been his shirt at one point, but his had been black, and hers was kind of a dark gray, so maybe not. Either way— “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” She let him in and shut the door behind him, hovering a few feet back. “That was fast.”

He shrugged.Not fast enough. He’d never noticed how many lights and signs were between her place and his before.

“You look good too.” She stepped around him, keeping her distance, and nodded toward her bedroom. “I need to show you something.”

His imagination tried to kick in, taunting him with every definition imaginable of what that meant. He told it to go to hell and shoved the images back down. There was something off in the way she walked, an awkward hesitation combined with the occasional glance over her shoulder, as he followed her.

She dropped into her computer chair. The mouse cursor on the screen wavered, betraying the slight shake to her hand. “So, um...”

He waited for her to finish her thought, attention on her profile. The uncertain way she caught her lip between her teeth, the flicker of her eyes between the screen and not quite at him, was alluring and disquieting at the same time. “What’s up?” he finally prompted.

She took a deep breath and spun in her chair, facing her computer. “I decided you were right.”

Fantastic. “About what?”

“I need to stop hesitating and just get my artwork out there. It’s true that no one may want it, but I’ll never know unless I try, right?”

“Right.” He wanted to grin that she was taking this step, and felt selfish for being disappointed instead. Not by the news—he screamed for joy inside about that—but he’d been hoping to hear something else. Something more about the two of them.

She let out a small laugh, the most incredible sound he’d heard in days. “You probably already know this—I hope you already know this—but I have to send samples of my work along with my query, and I need to pick my best pages. Since you spoofed my email, I don’t know which images you picked.” She turned her full attention on him for the first time since he’d arrived. “I have my favorites, but I can’t decide. I’m hoping some of them are your favorites too, so I can narrow my choices down. Help me pick some out?”

“Of course.” A tinge of relief floated through him. It wasn’t a confession of love, but it was the friendship he had been terrified they’d lost. He could work with that. He’d take that over nothing in a heartbeat.

She nodded her head toward the monitor. “You can get closer if you want. You know, so you can see. I promise it’s okay.”

He closed the distance between them. As she flipped through the scans, he couldn’t hide his awe at her talent. It made it hard to choose, but they slowly narrowed down the selection. Excitement danced on her face the more they got into it.

He settled his hand on the back of her chair, leaning in to get a closer look at the details. He saw now why it had been a mistake to send off her unfinished work, aside from the severe breach-of-trust issue. What he’d been impressed with before was nothing compared to the studio quality he looked at now.

She leaned back, resting against him as they dove into the final selection process. She was still torn deciding between two panels. He traced light lines along her shoulder blade, relieved when she didn’t pull away.

“How’s Archer?” The question slipped out before he could stop it, and he cringed.

Her back went stiff, and she sat straight up. “Fine, I suppose.”

“Happy to have you back?” God damn it, he was being a jerk.

She dropped her head and sighed.

He’d ruined the moment. He might as well get it over with. Find out what was really going on, wish her luck—because that’s what friends did—and all that bullshit. “You two make a cute couple.”

She winced, and a small squeak tore from her throat. Something that was half-whimper, half-sigh. “What happened tohe’s a clingy jackass?”

Zane shrugged. “Whatever works for him.”

She tilted her head back for a moment, eyes closed. Then she stood and faced him, gaze locked on his. “You really think we make a cute couple?”

Yes. He needed to sayyes. He had to do this. He had to be supportive. “No. I still think he’s a clingy jackass and you deserve so much better. You already said you didn’t love him.”

Her pained expression melted away. “How do you really feel?”

“Clever. I already bore my heart, and you didn’t take it quite the way I hoped.”

---