Page 103 of Coerced

Darling.

He’d just called me darling.

That word made my belly flip.

I tried to ignore that feeling and answer his question. “Happy. Happier than when I was doing anything else.”

He lifted his hand to the side of my face, his thumb stroking over the apple of my cheek. “You can’t give that up, Aria. You need to paint. And I’ll do whatever I can to help guide you back to it.”

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“I don’t think you can give it up. Would it help if I painted with you? Maybe if you saw just how bad I was, you might realize how exceptional you are.”

“I highly doubt you’re bad at it.”

He cocked a brow. “I have no problem proving it to you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, but I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. If there was anyone who could convince me to do something like this, it was Paxton. But I’d been so badly hurt by my past, by the thought of the paintings I’d poured my heart and soul into being used for a money-making drug scheme. It was difficult to get past that.

Paxton must have realized how badly I was struggling, because he said, “I’m not saying you have to make a career out of it if that doesn’t feel right for you at this point, but you love painting. And you shouldn’t quit.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll take that. I’ll take uncertainty about it over a hardno. I know you’ve got your night out with the girls tonight, so I won’t continue harping on this now, but I want you to know that I’m going to do what I can to convince you to come back to something you love,” he promised.

“Well, I love you, and I intend to come back to you tonight,” I told him.

He smiled before he touched his mouth to mine. “You better. Otherwise, I’d head a search party to find you and bring you back.”

“Sounds like you don’t want to let me go.”

“Never.” Paxton kissed me again, and when he pulled back, he asked, “Are you okay?”

He was the best. No matter that we technically disagreed on what I should be doing regarding putting a brush to the canvas again, Paxton was ultimately only concerned about my well-being. And for that reason, no matter what I decided to do down the road, I would always be okay. “I am,” I assured him.

Tension I hadn’t realized he’d been holding on to left his body, his shoulders relaxing. “I love you, Aria.”

“Can you say that using the other word?”

“What other word?”

“You called me darling before, and I loved it.”

He sent a sweet smile in my direction. “I love you, darling.”

My belly flipped again, and I beamed at him. “I love you, too.”

After kissing Paxton once more, I finally got myself up and got ready for my night out with the girls. Paxton took me to the pub and dropped me off.

And hours later, everything that had been weighing heavily on my heart had vanished. I’d met the girls. All ofthem. And Mallory and Liv, though both heavily pregnant, were able to join in the fun.

I’d had such a great time—talking, laughing, getting to know everyone, and dancing—I didn’t think there was any hope of the night getting any better.

But I was mistaken.

Because at some point, the door to The Steel Pub opened, and a group of men came strolling in. Paxton was among them, and he came straight for me. Without a word, he took me by the hand and led me out toward the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” I asked.