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Authors: Stephanie Tyler
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with Lucas and punching out his ex-girlfriends and reporters at her shows is a big draw."
"I didn't punch anyone out. Not any reporters," I corrected. It was my first appearance at an event since my own show…other than being caught coming out of Lucas's apartment. Now, I side-eyed Brayden. "What's the catch?"
"You're up for auction."
I groaned. "Like as a date?"
"Don't be silly," he scoffed. "You're too unstable for them to even consider that."
"Asshole," I said in a singsong voice even as my anxiety rose.
"You're donating a portrait session."
My heartbeat slowed slightly. "That's not so bad."
"And it needs to be completed by the end of the week."
"As in Friday ? As in tomorrow is Friday Friday?" I asked, my voice rising with each word.
"All the artists who donated agreed to those terms so the portraits can be displayed at the charity's annual awards dinner. Which is held next week."
Great. Nothing like forced creativity. "I think you suck," I said through my teeth, since we'd entered what appeared to me as a glorified gauntlet.
"Just hang on to me." His grip tightened around mine. "And I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"God, this is awful," I murmured as several members of the board—according to Brayden's barely-there whisperings—descended on us. I heard a few of the photographers ask me if Lucas was coming, and neither Brayden nor I engaged them. A few asked me if I was planning on getting into another fight that night, and of course, I ignored that question too.
"Just smile and follow my lead. You're not leaving my side," Brayden assured me. "We only need to stay through the auction."
Flashbulbs popped and I wondered if Lucas might make a surprise appearance tonight. That would be just like him.
As if you know him so well , I chided myself. But I did. And that's what worried me the most.
I was halfway hoping to see him here. Instead, I spotted Meghan, and it was definitely not an equal trade. Nor a pleasant one.
Of course, people noticed that we were in a room together and were probably hoping for another fight. But I wouldn't make the same mistake twice of letting her get to me.
"You're doing great," Brayden said to me as he scanned the room.
"I'm trying. Anyone here for you?"
"There's always someone here for me." Brayden had always taken advantage of being good-looking and single, a combination that got him laid consistently.
He'd never wanted to be tied down. And even though I wanted him to have someone in his life who loved him, I'd realized that he did. That was me. And vice versa.
"Whatever happened to that guy you were seeing?"
"Zack?" He shrugged. "He's still around."
"Wait, so you've seen him more than once?"
"I see a lot of guys more than once. But that's as far as it goes."
I'd adopted my attitude about keeping things light from him, because it worked so well for him. At least it had…until Lucas.
To distract myself from that thought, I had some passed hors d'oeuvres, made some small talk and concentrated on getting through this alive. When the auction began, there were several artists I recognized through the magazines Brayden had around his apartment and the gallery, and others whose names I knew because of their artwork. It was an eclectic group and the first five artists got great bids.
Of course, now I was panicked that no one would bid on me. "Bray, if no one bids—"
"I've got you covered," he assured me, even as the auctioneer called me up to the stage. I didn't have time to think about refusing, because Brayden took me in hand, escorted me up the few stairs and gave me a subtle push the final way up to the stage. When the auctioneer read my bio out loud, I shifted uncomfortably. I wasn't used to eyes on me. On my art, fine.
I stared out into the crowd, the faces swimming in front of me. No one looked friendly. It was too quiet out there, and my mind started going places it shouldn't. I willed myself not to have a panic attack.
Thankfully, the bidding began
"I didn't punch anyone out. Not any reporters," I corrected. It was my first appearance at an event since my own show…other than being caught coming out of Lucas's apartment. Now, I side-eyed Brayden. "What's the catch?"
"You're up for auction."
I groaned. "Like as a date?"
"Don't be silly," he scoffed. "You're too unstable for them to even consider that."
"Asshole," I said in a singsong voice even as my anxiety rose.
"You're donating a portrait session."
My heartbeat slowed slightly. "That's not so bad."
"And it needs to be completed by the end of the week."
"As in Friday ? As in tomorrow is Friday Friday?" I asked, my voice rising with each word.
"All the artists who donated agreed to those terms so the portraits can be displayed at the charity's annual awards dinner. Which is held next week."
Great. Nothing like forced creativity. "I think you suck," I said through my teeth, since we'd entered what appeared to me as a glorified gauntlet.
"Just hang on to me." His grip tightened around mine. "And I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"God, this is awful," I murmured as several members of the board—according to Brayden's barely-there whisperings—descended on us. I heard a few of the photographers ask me if Lucas was coming, and neither Brayden nor I engaged them. A few asked me if I was planning on getting into another fight that night, and of course, I ignored that question too.
"Just smile and follow my lead. You're not leaving my side," Brayden assured me. "We only need to stay through the auction."
Flashbulbs popped and I wondered if Lucas might make a surprise appearance tonight. That would be just like him.
As if you know him so well , I chided myself. But I did. And that's what worried me the most.
I was halfway hoping to see him here. Instead, I spotted Meghan, and it was definitely not an equal trade. Nor a pleasant one.
Of course, people noticed that we were in a room together and were probably hoping for another fight. But I wouldn't make the same mistake twice of letting her get to me.
"You're doing great," Brayden said to me as he scanned the room.
"I'm trying. Anyone here for you?"
"There's always someone here for me." Brayden had always taken advantage of being good-looking and single, a combination that got him laid consistently.
He'd never wanted to be tied down. And even though I wanted him to have someone in his life who loved him, I'd realized that he did. That was me. And vice versa.
"Whatever happened to that guy you were seeing?"
"Zack?" He shrugged. "He's still around."
"Wait, so you've seen him more than once?"
"I see a lot of guys more than once. But that's as far as it goes."
I'd adopted my attitude about keeping things light from him, because it worked so well for him. At least it had…until Lucas.
To distract myself from that thought, I had some passed hors d'oeuvres, made some small talk and concentrated on getting through this alive. When the auction began, there were several artists I recognized through the magazines Brayden had around his apartment and the gallery, and others whose names I knew because of their artwork. It was an eclectic group and the first five artists got great bids.
Of course, now I was panicked that no one would bid on me. "Bray, if no one bids—"
"I've got you covered," he assured me, even as the auctioneer called me up to the stage. I didn't have time to think about refusing, because Brayden took me in hand, escorted me up the few stairs and gave me a subtle push the final way up to the stage. When the auctioneer read my bio out loud, I shifted uncomfortably. I wasn't used to eyes on me. On my art, fine.
I stared out into the crowd, the faces swimming in front of me. No one looked friendly. It was too quiet out there, and my mind started going places it shouldn't. I willed myself not to have a panic attack.
Thankfully, the bidding began
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