Page 20 of Chasing Me (Beyond Me #2)

JAMES

I HAD NO CLUE the day would turn into the biggest clusterfuck of my life.

I should’ve known by the crappy start. After being with Quinn, I felt as if I could handle anything thrown my way, so I started out strong.

I’d already accepted I didn’t get into the expo, but then had to deal with a crappy shift at Joe’s, where I spilled an expensive cup of mocha from burning my damn hand, and was stalked by a bunch of giggly teens who lingered far too long at the tables, watching me.

Ugh.

I spent the rest of the day researching other art schools and hitting the pavement at various stores and museums, asking for applications while well-dressed receptionists wrinkled their noses at me, asking me first what my degree was in.

I didn’t care. In fact, I began sifting through the idea of doing something completely different.

I’d take extra shifts at Joe’s, maybe add another odd job for the money, and build my own collection.

Then I’d use the Internet to market it. I’d noticed some craft stores where artists gave up a percentage of commission to sell.

Hell, I’d take the time to build my contacts, and create my own shit.

I didn’t need Ava or the Brush Institute to validate my talent, and if I tapped into my own drive, I’d build something on my own.

I headed to the studio, feeling stronger about my direction, and when I got there a big crowd had formed around a posted piece of paper in the hallway.

“What’s going on?” I asked a pretty blonde, who was leaning against one of the art cases.

“The artists for the expo were picked.”

“Oh.” I didn’t even bother, not wanting to depress myself any further. I headed toward my workroom to set up for class, already prepping for my confrontation with Ava. I wouldn’t let her win. She’d probably made all that shit up just to cover her ass for not picking me for the expo. I was over it.

I was laying out my charcoal pencils when Tony, a guy from my class, came rushing in. “Dude! Did you see? I can’t believe it.”

“See what?”

He stood there, gaping. “The expo, man. Your name is listed. You made it!”

I blinked. Wondered if I’d heard right. Then, shaking my head, I raced back down the hallway and pushed my way into the crowd so I could read the list.

#4 – James Hunt.

What the fuck? I stood in shock while the students clapped me on the shoulder, offering their congratulations. Impossible. She’d picked me even after our episode.

But why?

I should have been over the fucking moon, but my gut clenched with worry.

Something was off. I needed to talk to her, make sure she wasn’t playing any mind games with me.

My head spun, but already, the possibility had been extended, and now I wanted it so badly I couldn’t think of having it yanked away from me.

Would she blackmail me? No, she should have known I’d never agree to do anything that would hurt my relationship with Quinn, even for the expo.

I tried to calm my beating heart, act cool, and wait for Ava to show up and make some sense of it.

She never did.

Instead, another instructor came into class, explaining he’d be taking over for the day. He congratulated the students who’d made the list, and everyone clapped for me since I was the only one from Ava’s class to get in.

Shit. I wouldn’t get my answers yet.

My head wasn’t in the right place, but I tried to make the best of it, using the class time to try to clear my mind by losing myself in work.

I checked my watch and decided to get something to eat.

I kept thinking of Brian’s words, warning me I’d never be good for Quinn.

I turned over Ava’s declaration that Quinn wasn’t a good fit.

It seemed no matter who I spoke with, everyone was against us.

Normally, it would make me want to fight harder, but the doubt had been seeded, and I was afraid it was starting to sprout.

Would she be better off without me? Was I being a selfish prick by not letting her go?

I didn’t know how long I’d brooded and thought and pondered. It seemed like no matter how hard I fought or tried to get into positive space, my doubts roared over me like a monster hiding under the bed.

I finally decided to do the only thing that made sense.

Work. I quickly texted Quinn I’d be at the studio till late and offered her breakfast in bed, then headed back.

Maybe if I immersed myself into the only world that ever made sense, I’d find the answer to this world.

Scoffing at my philosophical thoughts, I decided to go for oils, setting up a brilliant white canvas before me.

I stared at the blank space, relishing that first moment of competition, the stare-down between artist and canvas, the challenge on who would win.

My blood warmed and my head cleared, and I attacked, letting all the mess flow through my brush and out.

I worked like a demon, losing myself, without any idea how much time had passed. Eventually, I began to surface, splatters of paint on my shirt, my hand cramped, and I blinked, coming to.

“Not bad.”

I jumped, whirling around. Ava stood behind me, studying the swirl of bold colors and jagged lines that made out a couple kissing, wrapped up in each other, pressed against the wall.

I’d used colors rather than blacks and whites, and sketchy, rough figures rather than fleshed-out people, giving it an almost crazy, Picasso-like image I’d never experimented with before.

It was weird, but arresting, forcing you to try to figure things out.

I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to say with the piece, but it didn’t matter.

Anger shot through me, but I was still a bit weak from the burst of creative work. “What are you doing here?”

“Needed to catch up on some work. See, this is more structured with the lines here.” She brushed her finger over air, following the curves of the woman’s body and hidden face. “Yet you got messy and real. You’re fucked-up in the head right now, huh?”

I stared at this demon creature who somehow managed to beat me up in the same statement she gave me a compliment.

I studied her for a while, trying to figure her out.

She wore another of her favorite black pantsuits, but it was tight, hugging every part of her body, and the red tank underneath her jacket showed an impressive amount of cleavage.

Her hair was scraped back from her face again.

I couldn’t decide if she was wildly attractive or just plain scary, with the slight sneer on her too-full bloodred lips, white skin, and sharp features.

“Are you proud of yourself?” I asked. “You’re the one who fucked up my head. Why did you put me in the show?”

She laughed, shaking her head slowly. “Isn’t that what you wanted? What you’ve been fighting for since day one? If you don’t want the slot, let me know now, and I’ll give it to another student.”

I seethed with frustration, aching to shake her until she dealt with me on a straight level. “Of course I want it! You said in your office I wouldn’t get it.”

She arched a brow. “No, I never said that. I wanted to find out if you’d be committed and figure out your true intentions.

Now, I know. I’m taking a chance on you, Mr. Hunt.

But you better make sure you show me this.

” She jerked a thumb toward my painting.

“And not some of that boring crap you tried to pass off as real art. Enjoy your night.”

She walked away without a backward glance.

The stress of the past weeks finally broke. My confusion and worry over Quinn. The doubts about myself. And the way my safe place—my art—had suddenly turned into a mind-game explosion due to one raging bitch who wanted to screw with me.

Tendrils of rage licked at my nerve endings, driving me forward. I threw down my brush and followed her into the office, my fists clenched. She looked up from a pile of papers as if I was a minor annoyance. “Yes?”

“I’ve had enough,” I ground out. “How am I expected to work with you? Let you mentor me when I don’t trust you? When I know you’re just waiting to tie me up in knots because you think I work better when I’m miserable?”

Ava rose from her chair in one graceful motion. Locking my gaze on hers, she strode toward me with slow, deliberate paces. “I’ll use anything at my disposal if it makes you better,” she drawled. “But let’s be honest. You didn’t come into this office to talk, did you?”

Shock left me speechless. Not even realizing what I was doing, I backed up until I hit the wall, staring at her in growing discomfort.

Holy hell, she thought I wanted to sleep with her.

Was I giving off that impression? Sure, she reeked of sex and drama.

Back in the day, I would’ve devoured her whole, not giving a shit because I had a feeling Ava was the mistress of all sex and mind games.

We would’ve happily torn each other apart until we finally parted, exhausted and shattered into tiny pieces.

In that one moment, I had a decision to make.

I could choose Quinn and fight for what we had.

Or I could slip back into my old shit. Ava would push me further and harder than I ever could imagine.

She’d probably make me a star. I’d never have to hide the raw, primitive side of me I tried so desperately to keep in check for Quinn, sweet, sexy, giving Quinn.

My brain clicked furiously, trying to choose, while she moved closer until she paused before me, her husky laugh raking across my ears.

I gathered the last of my rage and frustration and battled for the woman I loved. “Fuck you.”

Her eyes filled with the challenge, and I knew she relished my fight. I was only a pawn to her in a lifelong game I no longer wanted to play.

“Why don’t you fuck me instead?”

I should’ve pushed her away, because I knew right then, I’d choose Quinn every time.

But I didn’t.

Her mouth pressed against mine, and those few seconds in my world were to be the ones that destroyed me.

I registered her scent, the tip of her tongue ready to plunge, the way her tits pressed up against my chest. But my body cried for Quinn, my mind locking into place, and I was about to shake her off when a low, guttural cry broke through the air.

Ava turned. My gaze lifted.

Shocked brown eyes stared into mine.

Quinn.

“Quinn!” My lips formed her name, horror washing over me in waves as I realized what she saw and believed. My horror increased when I realized that in those few seconds I’d hesitated, I lost the only choice that kept me alive.

My love for Quinn.

I shoved Ava away and went after Quinn.

“Don’t—j-just don’t!” She turned, and I quickly closed the distance, reaching out to grab her arm. “Leave me alone!” she screamed. I stopped in my tracks, and then she was sobbing and running away from me, and I watched my life shatter into pieces around me.