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His thumb brushes over his knuckles, absently—almost like he's working through the same struggle. “Always.”
His gaze doesn't leave mine for a long moment—those deep, serious eyes send their own silent message, careful but loaded. I want to say something to break the tension, but something holds my tongue. This is Garrett. This... This should be safe.
But nothing about this moment feels safe.
I nod, clearing my throat. “Thank you,” I manage, pulling the focus back, retreating just slightly.
Dad’s presence inside the party crashes into my thoughts like a cold splash of water, and everything snaps back into a brighter focus. This moment could only ever be temporary. No matter what silent promises fill the air between us.
Taking a deep breath, I push the French doors open, the atmosphere inside swallowing us whole as we step back into the crowded mansion.
The low, familiar hum of voices and music becomes a backdrop to all the unsettled thoughts still rifling through me.
Garrett’s hand lingers an extra second at the base of my spine—there's no mistaking the heat of the touch radiating right through the thin silk of my dress. But he pulls away before anyone notices—or before I give him a reason not to.
“I’ll check in on you tomorrow, Sky.” The way he says it feels significant, loaded with meaning.
I watch Garrett's back as he disappears into the crowd, my skin still tingling where his hand rested. Taking a deep breath, I scan the room for Vanessa and Dad.
They're near the fireplace, schmoozing. Perfect. I weave through the guests, plastering on a smile and nodding politely as I go.
I touch Vanessa's arm lightly, sounding apologetic. “I'm going to head up to my room for a bit.”
Starting toward the stairs, I allow myself one last glance, only to realize that Garrett’s eyes find mine one final time from across the room, even as he's halfway across it already.
God, what am I thinking? What is this?
I turn back, my heart pounding as I practically run up the stairs to my old room.
I flop onto my bed, my mind racing. My art career is taking off, I've got a growing social media following, and there are so many opportunities on the horizon.
I'm making a name for myself. Life is good, right?
But then there's Garrett. I close my eyes, replaying every moment on the terrace. The way he looked at me, the promise in his eyes when he said he'd always be there for me.
Oh God, what am I doing?
I groan, burying my face in a pillow. This crush is getting out of hand. If anything happened between us, it would destroy my relationship with my father. Not that we have much of one to begin with, but still.
And Garrett? It would ruin his life, his career, everything he's worked for.
I roll onto my back, frustrated. Being near Garrett makes me so unsettled. Like everything I thought I knew about myself and my life is suddenly up for grabs.
I grab my phone, scrolling through my social feeds. There are dozens of notifications—likes, comments, new followers. My latest post about the upcoming exhibition is getting a ton of attention. I should be excited about this.
But all I can think about is Garrett, and how he's going to be involved in my exhibition plans.
How am I supposed to focus on networking and promoting my art when he's right there, looking gorgeous and protective and?—
I toss my phone aside. This is hopeless.
I stare at the ceiling, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, I'm thrilled about my growing success as an artist.
The likes, the followers, the buzz around my work—it's everything I've been working toward. But there's still that nagging doubt. How am I going to pull this off?
I haven't even secured the venue yet, let alone figured out all the logistics.
I sit up, grabbing my sketchbook from the nightstand. As I start to draw, the image that emerges surprises me. It's Garrett, his face half in shadow, his eyes intense and searching. I've captured that moment on the terrace.
