“Lauren, you’re old to begin modeling now. If you’re scouted, you must accept. This could do huge things for our future!” Our future. The words are a dagger. A million broken promises.

“I’ve got to go.” I do. Otherwise, I might change all my future plans because of that one stupid word that has never been shared between us: our. I know she won’t stick around, but the small promise of it is so alluring. It shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t have to be a model or successful for her to consider me her daughter and make time for me, and I know that, which is the only reason I’m able to hang up.

My mood dampens further when I see Kenzie’s car in the parking lot. I haven’t seen her in weeks. I have no idea where she’s been staying, and while I’ve been a bit concerned, I know she’s been in our studio apartment because clothes and bags have come and gone.

As soon as I unlock the door, I feel her eyes watching me. I refuse to look her way, something that is more difficult than I thought it would be when I came to this conclusion on the stairs. Our apartment is so small I can’t help but look at her a few times as I change and get things set up to draw.

“YOUR PHONE keeps flashing.” I keep my attention on my work as Kenzie grumbles her acknowledgment. “Are you going to answer it?”

My hand pauses and I look over to her. “You can flip it over if it’s bothering you.”

“What if it’s something important?”

“It’s just my brother.”

“No it’s not.”

Her reply makes me furrow my brow in question. I muted my phone after his third call, knowing he wouldn’t be deterred until he had successfully filled my voicemail. I reach toward my bed to lift my phone, and see three missed calls from King, two from Mercedes, and one from both Summer and Kash. Without giving Kenzie a thank-you or explanation, I call King back and press the phone to my ear, trying to block out the sound of my blood pumping harder with concern.

“Lo?” His answer takes me by surprise because it’s filled with relief. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”

“What are you doing?”

“Drawing, why? Is everything okay?” I repeat.

“I’m coming over.”

“Now?” The shock in my voice is evident.

“I’m already in my truck.” I don’t reply, waiting to see if I can hear anything to confirm that he is. “Pack a bag.”

“For what?”

“Do you want to wear the same clothes to class tomorrow?”

Other than the night of the storm, we haven’t done sleepovers. Spending the night there still feels like I’m doing something naughty, like even though Kash knows we’re dating, this just confirms we’re sleeping together, and while it’s ridiculous that I find myself embarrassed to make it so blatant, I am.

A banging on the door stops my thoughts and causes me to drop the charcoal I’m still holding.

“I already know you’re home.” King’s voice is quiet because he isn’t yelling through the door. He’s still on the phone.

I’m fairly certain Kenzie is more uncomfortable by having King here than I am. The two barely acknowledge each other, their greetings barely cordial, but I don’t focus on it long because King is radiating with an energy that I feel through his hand that has been firmly on the small of my back since I opened the door. He’s glowing with it, and it makes me feel anxious and happy for the first time today.

Without delay, I pack some clean clothes in a bag and then slide away from King so I can retrieve things from the bathroom. I’m only gone a few moments, not long enough for a lengthy conversation, but there isn’t even a single word shared between the two.

“Ready?” he asks as I place a couple of sketchbooks into my bag.

“Yeah.” I look toward Kenzie. She’s filing her nails, but I can tell she’s bothered. I’m pretty sure I wear that same expression most times I’m with my own brother. “See ya, Kenzie.”I don’t look to see if she turns her head. I’m not saying it for me.

King and I descend the stairs at a fast pace, his energy returning as soon as the door is closed.

“You seem happy,” I remark as we clear the last stair.

King looks over to me and a sly smile lifts only the right side of his lips, and then his hands are holding my jaw with an unfamiliar timidness and his lips are against mine. I don’t notice the softness of his lips or the sharpness of the short stubble on his chin against mine. It’s muted by the heat of his breath, and the pressure that counterbalances the tenderness of his hands. Then I forget that too and wind my arms around his neck so I can pull him closer to me. His fingers constrict slightly as a sound far too similar to a purr is made in the back of my throat, and my hands fist in his jacket. It only serves to send the scent of him in the breeze, making this energy that he’s passed on to me multiply.

A car horn stretches, and King’s head snaps back. I doubt that either of us would have given it a thought if it weren’t a foot away from us. A man waves his hand dismissively, his eyebrows drawn and mouth plastered into a frown, showing his frustration.

I glance down and laugh before grabbing King’s hand and pulling him out of the parking spot.

“What an asshole,” King mutters, standing beside the car as the man parks. His shoulders are wide as he stands slightly in front of me.

I jab him with my elbow and move toward his truck, hoping he won’t say anything to the guy but knowing this is the best deterrent I can offer.

“Have I told you how incredible you are?” His words are nearly as soft as his steps, startling me. Then he wraps a hand around my waist, bringing our hips together for the short distance to his truck.

“You weren’t even going to tell me, were you?” he asks.

“About today?”

“Yeah, about today.”

I shrug. “Only later if it worked. Then I would have gloated.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“How is she?” I was a little nervous about her going to her friend Paige’s this afternoon with everything transpiring, but she was sure she wanted to go.

“She has her head so far in the clouds, I think those girls could say anything they want and it wouldn’t touch her right now.”

I stop and lean my back against the cold metal of the door, sighing with relief. Although I felt it had gone well, I was still a little concerned it would bite her in the ass, and even more concerned she would hate me for embarrassing her.

“You were right, Lo. She’s too good to stoop to those levels. And your words about numbers, and how they don’t mean a damn thing—I think she really understood your message.”

“I talked a lot. Hopefully a couple of words got stuck in each of their heads.”

“Your words needed to be said. They’re going to be better people from the message you left with them today.”

“I said bullshit in the middle of it,” I admit.

King lets out a quiet laugh, his eyes sparking with that energy the car horn dimmed. “I don’t think it was the first time any of them had ever heard it. But your cheeks turned red, and you looked really cute.”

“How do you know?”

“Mercedes taped it.”

“What?”

“We watched you on the big screen, baby.” He’s teasing but sincere, making it both sweet and maddening.

“If you mock me…” I warn.

King’s eyebrows shoot up. “Babe, you’re cute when I mock you, and I like getting you playful and feisty, but I would never mock you for this. You went above and beyond, and your love for Mercedes, and even those other kids that you’re trying to help, makes me respect you more than I already did, and I didn’t know that was even possible. I’m going to take you home and worship you.”

KING’S practices increase along with his media coverage and invitations. It isn’t long before he’s gone more than he was while trying to get things sorted with the PR team in Switzerland for Kash. This time it’s both easier and harder. We’re getting better at communicating, touching base even if it’s only for a few stolen minutes between conflicting schedules. I’m so immensely proud of him and know with how often he reaches out that we’re on stable ground, both of us fully invested. I also miss him somehow more than I did then when I would get moody and depressed from not seeing him. Now I’m mopey. Mercedes keeps me busy, and modeling practice has moved up to three times a week in preparation for the show Friday. But I have a bigger project that hours of my day keep getting lost to: King’s logo. Summer has taken so many pictures of him, but I already know which image I’ll be using, and it isn’t in a photograph.