the next three months it would have to qualify as air, just like pigeons and leashed dogs would have to qualify as nature.
When the driver opened the door, Rori slid into the car and immediately pulled out her phone to text Fredrik. Arrived safely. Found the driver you sent for me. See you at the school in a few.
Fredrik. It would be a blessing to see the man. He’d already agreed to go out and get a little drunk with her that night. Heaven knew she needed it, and there wasn’t a person she’d rather tell her crazy tale to than Fredrik. He was one of those melodramatic listeners who gasped, sighed, and threw fits on your behalf as you walked him through a story.
Rori wasn’t sure yet what parts of the story she was going to tell yet. Time would tell. As would her blood-alcohol level, most likely.
When her driver pulled away from the curb, Rori let her head fall back against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. She needed a nap. Her jetlag was mostly gone, but that last flight hadn’t helped it any. So Rori saved herself the stress of witnessing the daredevil driving tactics of New Yorkers by closing her eyes and checking out for a minute for the drive to the art school.
It was time to get back to normal—back to the people she adored, the life she knew, and the career she loved. It had been an interesting weekend, but it was over. Time to get back to reality and focus in on her very first American art show.
Chapter 28
Monday morning. That meant Kris had to make her way into work.
She’d managed to get up. Kris gave herself points for that. She’d also managed her third shower of the past twelve hours. But now that the steam of it had worn off, Kris was sore in places she’d never known possible. Not that she minded. Not even a little bit, but it was the kind of sore you that made you want to take the day off, and Kris couldn’t do that. She had some important appointments to keep.
She acted as casual as possible on the short walk from Luke’s place to her parents’. Kris had made the walk a thousand times. No one would take note of her crossing from one of the property’s to the other unless she gave them reason to. Once inside, she went about her morning routine as if she’d slept at home the night before.
In the shower Kris took note of all the new marks on her body. Bruises that might have made her frown any other day brought a smile to her lips as recalled how they had been formed.
Yeah, concentrating that day wasn’t going to be easy. Not at all. She missed Luke already. It hadn’t even been twenty minutes, and
she missed him—wanted to see him, touch him, taste him.
By the time she went down to the kitchen for her morning coffee, Kris was twitchy again and more turned on than a contributing member of society should be. Seriously. How did people function when they were in love?
It was Kris’s first true glimpse into how devastating it might be to break up with someone she truly cared about, making her think of Rori again.
Was Rori really as okay as she said she was? The whole situation just seemed so unfinished with her. Maybe because there hadn’t really been any goodbyes, or that she and Luke hadn’t really broken up officially. Sure, it was implied, but no one had said the words.
Rori had just left, leaving good wishes and an aura of indifference in her wake. Yet it couldn’t be that simple. Things were never that simple.
Kris nearly let out a squeak when Luke came up behind her while she was pouring her coffee, sliding his hands around her waist, and kissing the side of her neck.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, all but wiggling his eyebrows at her. They would have to tell her parents soon, because if there was one thing Luke wasn’t, it was discreet.
“Morning, handsome,” she said, turning and pressing her lips to his. She’d always wanted to do that. “I was thinking of Rori, actually.”
Luke smile froze, and his voice grew cautious. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Did it seem to you that she and Mike had a thing between them?”
He visibly relaxed. “Mike didn’t say anything.”
Kris leaned against the counter and took a sip of her coffee. “But let’s say