So Damn Beautiful (A New Adult Romance) (25 page)

“You okay?” he asked, searching my eyes. “You
got all quiet.”

For some reason, as much as we’d shared, I
had no interest in airing my insecurities. Besides, I wanted to
give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe our night together really
had meant something to him—he didn’t give me any reason not to
trust him.

I smiled and wrapped him into a hug. “I’m
great—just thinking about all the shit I have to do for this
Quentin Pierce project.”

He stepped back to look at me and smirked
slightly, and I could see a little of the old Chase swagger
creeping in. “We got this, babe. You know I’m gonna knock it out of
the ballpark, right?”

I frowned slightly, thinking back to our
near-fateful encounter with the cops. “Chase, I really can’t . . .
I can’t have this fail. I know you’re maybe the most incredible
artist in the show, but I just worry you’re not taking it as
seriously as you should.”

I cringed at my abrupt change in tone, but
Chase didn’t react in an offended way. It was hard to separate what
was developing between us from the fact that we had something of a
professional connection. I didn’t want “work” to get in the way of
play, but with the deadline for Chase’s commissioned piece nearing,
I wanted to be clear that we couldn’t afford to get waylaid by
passion.

“Annie, I swear to you, they are gonna be
throwing accolades and laurel wreaths at you when they see what I’m
doing. It won’t be like anything anyone’s ever seen. This isn’t for
all the people engaging in mental masturbation at the galleries.
It’s for all the people with MetroCards and the tiniest bit of
hope. I’m thinking inside-out, so you don’t have to worry.”

I felt almost guilty for second-guessing
Chase, but before I could apologize, he moved toward me and kissed
me. Hunger and sweetness were on his lips, and I willingly gave in,
softening into his arms and that intoxicating leather-and-smoke
scent of his. I could feel the eyes of bystanders on us, and a few
people even whistled. Where I would typically have been
self-conscious as hell, I felt sexy and beautiful. I was sure the
women walking by were giving me the evil eye, considering the fact
that wherever we went, girls always stopped to either stare at or
flirt with Chase. But today, he was all mine.

When I was on the train, reeling from the
aftermath of the night, I noticed a plethora of flashy graffiti
tags all over the interior. Normally, I would simply have viewed
them as visual noise cluttering my space and attention, but this
time, I really looked. I was used to admiring the commissioned
murals, city-supported painting projects, and permission walls that
cropped up now and then, but, amazingly enough, knowing Chase made
me look at the more commonplace material in a different way.

I could see why Chase always talked about how
the real art was the stuff we never stopped to view as legitimate.
Sure, there were unintelligible scrawls that had probably been made
as acts of rebellion, but there was also beauty on those walls. I’d
come to recognize the more interesting glyphs—characterized by
eye-catching letter structure, unexpected color schemes, the
occasional badass character, and crazy control. Some of it was
freeform, and some of it was as painstakingly wrought as any of the
modern pieces Professor Claremont heralded.

I was so engrossed in the details that I
jumped when I heard a beep in my backpack. When I looked, I saw I’d
just received a text from Harrison: “Can you meet for lunch?”

Suddenly, my hands felt clammy and I thought
I was going to faint. With everything that had happened, the
thought of Harrison hadn’t even crossed my mind. Technically, he
was my boyfriend—and I’d grown up believing loyalty was the one
thing that mattered most—but the mere idea of him filled me with
dread. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him about Chase, and
on top of that, I was a terrible liar.

How had I gotten myself into this mess? I
slouched down in my seat and closed my eyes. Chase wasn’t exactly
boyfriend material, but the way he made me feel, the way he
inspired me, the way he made every cell in my body stand at
attention . . . I couldn’t deny any of it. Harrison was the kind of
guy my mother always referred to as “marriageable,” but the burning
sense of closeness that I yearned for was missing with him. If I’d
thought I could grow into caring about him before, the night with
Chase had totally shattered my expectations.

I had to break up with Harrison.

The churning discomfort in my stomach got
stronger as I texted him back: “Yes, I’m free. Where do you want to
meet?”

I met Harrison at a fancy yet quiet café
on Bleecker Street. Tango music was playing in the background, each
table was covered with a bone-white tablecloth, and the waiters
were stiff and uniformed. I smiled to myself. It was a far cry from
the picnic dinner of our first date.

I was glad the café wasn’t full of people.
I’d felt like a movie star upon departing Chase’s, but I must’ve
looked at least a little bit grungy. I was a bit of a mess—I hadn’t
had time to go home and change before I met Harrison, so I was
wearing the same pair of jeans and V-neck top I’d had on the night
before—but he was in perfect form: dapper and fresh-looking, in a
gray cashmere pullover and straight-legged chinos. I felt
underdressed in comparison, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He was so enthusiastic to see me that I felt
almost ungrateful to be the bearer of bad news. As he held my hands
in his across the table and talked about his family’s upcoming
winter vacation to the Seychelles, however, it was hard for me to
imagine he’d take the news all that poorly. Harrison was rich, hot,
kind, and effortlessly awesome. If he’d never felt the sting of
rejection before, I couldn’t imagine that breaking up with him so
early in our relationship would leave much of a lasting impact.

“Harrison,” I interrupted before he could say
anything more and before lunch got to us. I’d ordered only a San
Pellegrino, since I wasn’t hungry after my ginormous brunch with
Chase. Besides, I was beginning to feel nauseous, and I was hoping
the bubbles would calm my stomach and nerves. I was about to launch
right into my breakup spiel, say something cliché like, “I think we
need to take a breather from this because it’s moving too fast,”
which would have been glossing over the truth, but at least it
would have gotten the message out on the table.

Before I could, he leaned closer and studied
me with a look of unaffected tenderness. “You know, Annie, you have
the most amazing eyes. I always thought they were blue, but they’re
more . . . kaleidoscopic or something.”

I sighed inwardly. Here I was, attempting to
give Harrison the slip—and he was complimenting my beauty? The
whole situation seemed a little wackadoo. “Um, uh, thanks.”

I smiled, suddenly feeling a bit of
hesitation. When I’d broken up with Peter, it had been easy
enough—he’d cheated on me, so a screaming match had seemed like the
best way to handle it at the time. But I wasn’t accustomed to
breaking up with someone who was actually a genuinely nice guy, so
everything I’d anticipated saying felt bland and uncalled for. All
the same, I had to do it.

“Harrison, all of this is very sweet, but I
really don’t deserve it. I have to tell you—”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Save it,
Annie. False modesty won’t get you anywhere today.” He smiled, then
winked. “I have something for you,” he said, digging out something
from his pocket. I held my breath as he presented me with a tiny
black velvet box.

Oh God, he isn’t . . .
, I thought.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep the shake out of my
voice.

“Open it,” he said.

I did, and gasped. “Oh, Harrison, it’s
stunning.” Inside the box was a beautiful gold-and-silver-plated
necklace with two tiny hearts entwined, a halo of crystals
encrusting them. I couldn’t imagine how much it had cost.

“It’s Swarovski,” he said, pleased at my
reaction. “I thought it would be versatile enough to go with
everything but not so subtle that it wouldn’t let you know how I
feel about you.”

My heart stopped, but not in a good way. I
could barely make eye contact—Harrison was looking at me so sweetly
that I was afraid I’d start crying.

“Harrison, I can’t . . . ,” I said weakly,
but he stopped me.

“This is one gift I won’t let you
not
accept,” he said, taking the necklace and standing to put it around
my neck. I was dumbstruck. Given his behavior, I didn’t know how I
could actually break up with him. I hadn’t realized the
relationship was serious enough to merit such a beautiful gift.

Instead of going back to his side of the
table, Harrison knelt next to me and looked intently in my eyes.
“Annie, I realize this might seem like it’s going fast, but I can’t
wuss out on telling you how I feel,” he said, grabbing my hand in
his. “And trust me, I meet a lot of girls, but I haven’t felt this
way about anyone in a really long time. I think you’re gorgeous,
sweet, smart—but most of all, you’re not like other girls around
here. You have a heart and soul, genuine family values. You’re not
hardened and cynical like other people. You’re driven without
losing your softness. And you’re honest—you wear your heart and
your passion on your sleeve. I feel like I can really trust
you.”

The insides of my stomach churned like crazy.
I felt awful. The person Harrison was describing was someone I’d
always thought I was, but last night had thrown me . . . hard. If
Harrison thought he could trust me, I didn’t know how he’d feel if
he discovered the truth. I closed my eyes for a moment and had a
bright flash of my hottest moments with Chase: his fingers and
tongue all over me, my body responding in ways that were totally
unprecedented. It had felt so pure and right, but now, as I sat
before Harrison, hearing him pour out all his feelings for me, I
felt ashamed.

“Harrison, I don’t know what to say. . . .”
Apparently, that wasn’t a deterrent for him.

“You don’t have to say anything, Annie. Just
take it all in—I can wait.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek and went
back to his seat. “I wanted to let you know my parents are going to
be in town right before the opening of the Quentin Pierce
show.”

“Oh? I thought they were in Europe till the
end of the year,” I said, fiddling nervously with my napkin.

“Well, they’re coming back early. They’re
really looking forward to meeting you.” He had a giant smile on his
face. “I know that sounds like a lot of pressure, since we’re still
pretty new to each other, but I know they’ll love you. My dad got a
kick out of the fact that you’re from Apple Creek. He even said,
‘Son, those Apple Creek girls are second to none.’” Harrison
momentarily affected his dad’s voice—deep and booming.

“I, uh . . . I don’t know, Harrison. I’m
going to be so busy during that time,” I said, attempting to
deflect what I felt was totally unwarranted adoration on his
part.

“It’s okay, Annie—we’ll find the time, even
if we have to work around your schedule.” He paused. “This means a
lot to me, too—I almost never introduce my girlfriends to my
parents, but . . . this is different.” For a moment, he looked like
a little boy. “I’m one hundred percent sure of my feelings, Annie.”
A look of stubbornness came over his face. “You couldn’t change
that, even if you tried,” he added, with a vehemence that made me
want to protest.

Tears came to my eyes. I was touched by
Harrison’s declaration, but I was also racked by guilt over what
had happened between Chase and me. Confusion filled my heart. How
could I deny the passion I’d experienced last night, which honestly
felt like that once-in-a-lifetime heat I’d been so used to reading
about but never would have imagined I’d actually live? At the same
time, how could I deny Harrison’s feelings for me, or the fact he
was one of the most upstanding guys I’d ever met? I would be a fool
to just walk away from someone who was handing me his heart so
sincerely. From the moment I’d met Harrison, I’d known on an
intuitive level that he wouldn’t be the type of man to let me down,
that I could count on him. He was solid and sincere, certain and
safe.

A sliver of doubt crept in. Would it be a
complete mistake to throw out what we had? It was still so new and
unfamiliar, and I didn’t want to make the wrong decision.

I sighed. Harrison’s eyes were so full of
stars. There was no way I could tell him about last night. I
swallowed and squeezed his hand across the table. “Harrison, I
appreciate everything you’re telling me, but I don’t know if I can
. . . I don’t know if I can return those feelings. It’s just too
soon.”

He nodded, a glimmer of determination in his
eyes. “I don’t expect you to. Not yet, Annie. You don’t have to
know how you feel yet. Let me do the work for you, and I know
you’ll catch up in due time.”

I smiled, but my throat felt parched and I
could muster no more words. For better or worse, I was still
Harrison’s girlfriend.

Life was hectic enough that I had to put
on hold any thoughts of either Chase or Harrison while I studied
for exams and sussed out the particulars of the Quentin Pierce
mural. Hayden, Elsie, and Shawn were well on their way to finished
pieces, which was good news, considering the opening of the show
was less than a month away. I braced myself for another tongue
lashing from Claudia, and even though I felt I could trust Chase to
deliver on his word, I was nervous about how little I knew of his
process, and how little we had actually discussed the details of
his mural.

I tried to put it out of my mind and muster a
confident pose as I walked into the room where we were meeting. I
was surprised to see everyone there already, clustered around
Claudia’s laptop, their eyes glued to her screen.