Page 30 of I Don't Need Your Romance

Sophie waves, thanks me again, then disappears inside.

I can’t stop my lips from lifting in a small smile as I make my way back to my apartment with the leftover food. Oddly, I had a good time tonight. Sophie’s fun to be around.

I wonder if we’ll have more of these “adventures.” But it seems unlikely. Either way, it’s all I think about when I climb back into bed.

Chapter Eleven

Sophie

Art is my last class of the day. As much as I love learning, it’s great to relax in a class that doesn’t grade us based on our skills or abilities. I’m not the greatest artist out there, but I think I do okay.

The teacher, Miss Moreno, stands in the doorway, greeting the students as they enter the classroom. After I wish her a good afternoon, I lower myself at my easel and prepare my palette to continue my painting that I started last week. It’s a scene from one of my romantasies. There are dragons and wizards and elves and demons and all the good stuff. It’s kind of complicated and I’m nowhere at the level of a talented artist, but it’s the effort that counts, right?

“Very good, Damian,” Miss Moreno says a few feet away from me.

Glancing up, my eyes widen a bit as I realize Damian is in this class. I didn’t see him when I walked inside. This is his third day of school and we only have art once a week, so I didn’t know he takes this class with me.

I bend my head, trying to steal a peek at his painting, but I can’t see because he’s blocking me. I can’t help wondering if he’s good at art. Considering he had a sketchpad with him the other day, I’m assuming he is. That just makes me so curious to see his masterpiece.

My lips lift in a small smile when I remember what happened last night. How he and I snuck into the dining hall to steal the food. I didn’t have a chance to really think about it in detail. But now that I’m alone with my thoughts and the dude is only a few feet away, I can’t stop my thoughts from replaying everything that took place.

The way he teased me about being a goody-goody. How he lied about breaking into his mother’s safe and stealing all the money. How I called him out on his lie. I could see in his eyes how surprised he was that I was able to see right through him. Like Iknewhim or something. But I don’t know him. I just know that he’s not as bad as he thinks he is. Or pretends to be.

Eating with him was nice. Like we were two friends spending time together, even though we’re not even close to being friends.

A shadow looms over me. Raising my head, my eyebrows shoot up when I find Damian standing there. He’s staring at my painting with a thoughtful expression on his face.

My cheeks feel warm because I know my paintings aren’t really great. I mean, I’m sure a five-year-old could paint a better dragon than the monstrosity I did.

His sharp eyes move to mine, but I can’t read what they’re saying. He looks back at the painting with that same expression.

I shift in my seat. “It’s a scene from one of my romantasies. See? That’s a dragon.” I point out the rest of the characters as well.

He studies them. “Nice.”

Nice? What does nice mean? And why do I care so much?

He turns to leave, then faces me. Bending close, he whispers, “Same time and place tonight?”

“Huh?”

“You think the leftovers will be as good?”

I gape at him. “You mean, you want to…?”

He shrugs. “Still got the key.”

I continue to gawk at him, my mouth opening and closing as I try to come up with some sort of response.

For the first time since he entered my life, Damian Harrington Lawrence lets out a chuckle. A real, full chuckle.

“See ya in the library after class.” He walks back to his easel and sits down in front of it. He continues painting like nothinghappened. Like he didn’t just make a girl so confused she doesn’t know what to think.

Was he serious? Does he really expect us to break into the dining hall tonight?

Before I can stop myself, I get to my feet and make my way to him. I freeze in place when I take in his painting. It’s a waterfall, and it’s probably the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Wow,” I gasp.