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“Well,” she says. “But don’t change the subject. What’s wrong?”

Sighing, I sit down, accepting a cup of coffee from her. “You are not going to let this rest, are you?”

“I won’t.”

“Okay, so, I was at this event last weekend, remember?”

“The high society art event, right?”

“Yeah.” I pause. “The owner of the gallery, who is sponsoring Ster, held it. I met him there.”

“Okay,” she says while dragging the O out. “And he is a weirdo?”

“No.” I feel my cheeks flush. “He is calm and serious, and… nice.”

Emma stares at me, before a wide grin spreads on her face. “Ohhhh, that’s what this is about! He is also very hot, huh?”

“I can’t deny that,” I admit. Aden looks exactly like I would imagine a businessman out of a magazine. He is tall with a toned body, dark hair in a fashionable cut that sometimes falls into his forehead, and dark brown eyes. But that’s not all. “He is hot, but he is also… There is something about him. He has that thoughtful look in his eyes sometimes. You know, that gaze of an artist like Ster has… Aden has it too. Like he sees something, and truly sees it. He must be loaded, but he isn’t waltzing around showing it off. No show-off brands, no golden watches, just a normal handsome guy in a suit.”

“You should go into sales,” Emma mutters. “Because now I am curious as fuck about this guy. So, you talked?”

“Yes, he was instantly able to tell that I am the one from Ster’s paintings. No one else can usually tell.” It was a shock to have Aden be able to tell, at first glance, that it’s me. A surprise that made him all the more intriguing.

“Was he flirting with you?”

“I am not sure,” I say. “That’s the problem. I think he was interested in me, maybe because I am in the drawings, but I don’t know if there is more than that. Usually I can tell.”

“Yeah, you can tell because you are used to these sleazy assholes in your club hitting on you. That’s not how normal guys approach someone in a normal situation,” she explains.

“He gave me his private number, but he didn’t make it clear if he wants to… you know… fuck me.”

“Right, Noel,” Emma snorts. “Like I said, there are people out there who are not just after you for a quick fuck. He gave you his number so that you can talk or meet, not to get you into bed immediately. If he wanted that, he would have gone about it differently.”

I stare at her. “You think he wants to talk?”

“Yeah, if what you said about him is true, then I guess he wants to get to know you better.”

“Why?”

“Noel, baby, you for sure have dated before, haven’t you? Then you know—”

“I haven’t,” I admit.

“What?!” she exclaims. “But you meet guys—”

“Yeah, to fuck.”

“Are you kidding? But then, you do have a pretty face, I get why they are attracted to you.”

She is right with what she says. I can’t even count the amount of times I have heard a guy tell me he wants to slap his cock against myprettyface and cover it in his cum, or fuck myprettymouth. I know I am pretty, and I wasn’t ashamed to use it to my advantage as a teen when Dad forced me to do shady shit for him, or when Mom needed drugs or alcohol.

I am a pretty face, but not much more.

“Usually, no one is truly interested,” I say. “I am exhausting.”

“You are not exhausting,” she says. “You are just used to meeting losers. If you were exhausting, I wouldn’t be your friend. And Ster and the tall, hot guy wouldn’t be either.”

The tall, hot guy? I have to hold back a chuckle. Mateo is usually the tallest person wherever he goes. He used to be insecure about it, and a bit of his insecurity still remains, but he doesn’t care as much anymore. And he is a hot guy. Ster and I make sure to tell him all the time.