Page 121 of Forgotten Comeback

“Are you comfortable with nude models?”

“Sure.” I mean, I’ve never actually painted a nude model, save for Gavin, but that was from memory. Regardless, I have no problem painting the human form.

“I help run adult-themed parties, and I’d love to have you there painting at our party tomorrow night.”

She tells me the pay for the event, and I blurt out, “I’m in.”

She smiles. “Wonderful. I’ll be in touch.”

Only after the woman’s gone do I realize I didn’t give her my contact information.

Maybe Gavin knows her. Maybe Gavin fucked her.

Jealousy burns beneath my skin, but I shake it off as I reach the front of the line and fill my plate, ignoring the sushi.

“Hey, Taylor, right?” Mia’s coworker sidles up beside me.

“Yeah,” I say, scanning the room for a place to sit.

“I hear you’re down to party. Why don’t you, me, and Mia go back to my place and have a little fun?” His hand slides over the curve of my ass.

Gavin appears, jerking me behind him as his fist connects with the guy’s nose.

“Ahhh!” The guy’s head snaps back on a squeal, his hands moving to cover his gushing nose; a nose that’s noticeably crooked now.

“Touch my girl again, and no plastic surgeon will be able to save your face.”

The guy sprints away.

“You don’t think I could’ve handled it?” I tell Gavin hotly, all the while telling my ovaries to stay out of this.

“Know you could have, man-eater, but doesn’t mean I won’t protect?—”

“Your girl? Huh, that’s interesting, considering you ghosted me when things got a little too real,” I spit.

Gavin holds up his hands. “I fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you’re not my girl. People fuck up in relationships, right?”

My eyebrow lifts. “Are you telling me, or asking me?”

“I don’t know.” He rubs the top of his head. “Taylor, baby, cut me some slack.”

“Are you going to be completely honest with me?” I demand.

He remains silent.

“Bye, Gavin.”

I turn to walk off, but squeal as I’m lifted from my feet, now dangling over his shoulder. My plate clatters to the floor. “Gavin, put me down!”

He marches us through the employee-only area to his dressing room. Scanning his key card, he carries me inside, placing me on my feet.

My jaw drops when I see it.

Gavin

Taylor’s eyes land on her painting,Madness’s Muse. “You bought it,” she says softly.

“I wasn’t gonna let someone else snatch up what’s mine. I’m still not gonna let someone else snatch up what’s mine.” I look at her pointedly.