Page 29 of P.S. I'm Still Yours
“Just show me,” he says quietly, his voice empty of judgment and expectations.
I flip the painting over, baring a part of my soul to him.
He doesn’t make a sound.
He hates it, doesn’t he?
But then…
I realize he’s not saying anything because his mouth is open.
He just stares at the painting for long seconds, soaking up every stroke of my brush.
“You…” he starts to say. “You’re so talented.”
My throat closes around a painful lump. “You mean it?”
“Yes. It’s amazing.” He peels his hand off mine, much to my disappointment, and grips the small canvas, bringing it closer so he can take a better look. “I can’t believe you did this.”
His mouth curls into a smirk. “You better send me some sick art for my house when you’re a famous painter.”
I snort. “Only if you send me postcards from all the cool places you visit when you’re off being a famous singer.”
I think I see a glimmer of hope flare in his eyes.
I’ve told him how talented he is, but I never really bothered to ask him if he would even be interested in a career in music.
But now, I know he does.
The hopeful look on his face makes that clear.
As though he’s just come to his senses, Kane shakes his head and bites back a scoff. “Yeah, right.”
“Hey,” I breathe.
Our gazes lock together so tight I’m afraid it would hurt to look away.
“No one gets to tell you you’re not good enough, you hear me? No one. Not me, not your dad, not even yourself.”
He digs his teeth into his bottom lip. “No point in getting my hopes up. It would be impossible to—”
I cut him off. “It’s only impossible if you don’t try.”
Kane wrestles a grin. “You give some damn good pep talks, you know that?”
I chuckle. “I try.”
We spend the rest of the evening working on our own craft and bickering the way we usually do. But something feels off.
For me, at least.
While Kane was off kissing girls in New York, I was at home obsessing over him. How many times is he going to have to spell it out for me before I take the hint?
He doesn’t like me.
Just one of the many reasons why, when my phone pings with a text from Sebastian Stein a half hour later, I decide to reply.
Sebastian