Page 105 of Damaged Boys Don't Fall For Bubbly Girls

“You know, I almost had him at the arcade on Monday,” he says after a little while. I’m mostly done with the second eye, so that’s awesome progress. And you know something? It’s not that bad.

“Well, your Brock competitiveness came out,” I tell him with a light laugh. “It’s nice to know you still have it.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of feeling more like myself.”

“That’s really good. I’m so happy for you.” I smile.

He holds my gaze. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, Lexi. You and the others. Seriously, if you guys wouldn’t have accepted me, I’d be all alone and feeling rotten.”

I stop painting and give him the brightest smile I can. “Of course. You’re our best friend. There’s no way we would have rejected you.”

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. I don’t want to talk about the past all the time, but I still feel bad for abandoning you.”

“It’s in the past.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I totally had Finn, anyway. He had zero chance against me.”

I snort. “From what I saw, you guys were neck in neck.”

“Pssh. No.”

I give him a look.

He holds up his hands. “Fine, fine. I guess we’ll never know. Anyway, I don’t want to disturb your masterpiece, so I’ll be quiet now.”

“No,” I quickly say. “I mean, I don’t want you to be quiet.”

“A model shouldn’t talk. It’ll mess up the portrait.”

“Maybe, but I don’t really care. Tell me something cool you’ve been reading.”

He spends a few minutes informing me about the plot of his current fantasy book. “The author is actually one of my dad’s mentees.”

“What do you mean?”

“A few years ago, my dad got a message from a guy telling him he’s a big fan and he asked if my dad could read his manuscript. My dad loves helping inspiring writers, so he agreed. He mentored him for a bit, helped him grow as a writer and everything. Then a few years later, the guy got his first book published. My dad was so happy for him. He dedicated the book to my dad.”

I smile. “That’s so cool.”

“Yeah.”

Quiet again.

“I’m up to your nose now,” I tell him.

“Can I take a peek?”

“Nope.”

He frowns. “Fine.”

The nose is tricky and I don’t have much experience painting noses. The last thing I want to do is mess the whole thing up and have to start over.

“Ten minutes left to class, students,” Mrs. Jackson announces. “Finish up and we’ll pick this up next week.”

Ten minutes isn’t long at all, but I manage to finish the nose just as the bell rings. Brock stands. “Can I see now?”

I gesture that he can.