The Finished Masterpiece Boxed Set - Pepper Winters Page 0,7

Justin Miller longer to recognise me than it’d taken Gil.

Longer to recall the kisses we’d shared. The touches we’d experimented. The breakup I’d initiated.

Gil had been the love of my life.

Justin had been my rebound.

And a friend.

Definitely a good friend.

Gil stepped aside, a grimace painting him in blacks and greys. His gaze never left mine. A piercing connection of awareness.

He knew I knew Justin.

He knew I’d dated Justin.

He knew Justin didn’t recognise me and was just waiting for the moment he did.

Justin’s eyes widened as he looked me up and down. He licked his lips, shaking his head as if seeing the past. “O? Is...is that really you?”

Gil crossed his arms, his face switching from carefully guarded to unreadable. Doing my best to ignore his overwhelming presence and the way my heart quickened, I nodded at Justin. “Hello.”

“Oh, my God!” Justin jogged across the huge warehouse and scooped me into a hug. “I can’t believe this!” His arms crushed me tight. I dangled like an unwilling hostage in his embrace.

Why couldn’t Gil have reacted this way?

I would’ve welcomed it.

Cried for it.

Kissed him until I’d died of joy.

Instead, Justin’s body enveloped my own. He was warm and unwanted. I squirmed a little to be free.

Patting his back, I pulled away with a smile that I hoped was kind but feared it was more of a wince. “Justin. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Fancy seeing me?” His eyebrows shot into his hair. He was just as confident as he had been at school. The years had decorated him with a sturdier physique and shrewder gaze, but boyhood charm still lingered, complete with easy flirting. “Fancy seeing you.” He glanced at Gil behind him before looking me up and down again with a grin. “What are you doing here?” His grin fell. “Wait, do you...do you still hang out with Clark?”

Gil stalked forward. Slow and meticulous with the ever-watchful, always condemning gleam in his green eyes. “No. She came here by accident. Haven’t seen her in years.”

“Oh.” Justin wiped his mouth. “So...you’re here at nine p.m. on a school night because...?”

I looked at Gil, waiting for him to reply.

He didn’t.

He stood as unmovable as stone, his eyes a storm of complexity.

“I came for the interview today. When Gil recognised me, there was no interview.” I shrugged, not looking at my old boyfriend but at my current heartbreak. “But I came back.”

Gil’s throat worked. Something flickered over his face that I wanted to chase and capture. Whatever it was, it tugged at me with truth.

He crossed his arms, flinching a little thanks to his sore elbow. “You came back against my strict instructions to stay away.”

“I can’t take no for an answer.” I let pitiful pleading enter my voice. “I really need a job, Gil. Like really, really. I’m happy to do whatever you need, or, if you know of someone who’s hiring, then I’d be very grateful for their details.”

I swallowed, shivering a little as Gil continued to stare right into me. I added, “I also came to check on you. I...I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I hadn’t.”

He reared back. “I’m not your concern.”

I swallowed yet more unresolved pain. “You were once.”

His jaw ticked with two opposing forces. Part of him recalled our togetherness, remembered our kindness toward one another. The other rebelled against it, slandering such things with a dirty curse. “Fuck, you’re still hung up on things that meant nothing.”

I couldn’t stop my jerk. “You can be mad at me for entering uninvited, but you can’t be mean for no reason.”

“Reason?” He scoffed. “You gave me plenty of reasons by ignoring my explicit commands not to return.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have left without a single goodbye—”

“Well, you shouldn’t have found me!”

“I didn’t find you. I answered your damn advertisement!”

“We’re not bloody children anymore, Olin! What happened in the past is obsolete.”

“To you maybe!” My skin flushed. I wasn’t good at confrontation. I’d never been one to pick fights. I was more of a peacemaker. A pacifier. It was why I’d never had a frank conversation with my parents that I’d missed them when I was young. That I’d needed them even though I was capable of making my own stupid packed lunches.

“Whoa, quit the shouting, okay?” Justin placed himself between us, his forehead creased with concern. Facing me, he asked softly, “Check on him? Why?”

I laughed under my breath, frustrated beyond belief. “Why? Did you not see his injuries?”

The bruise on his jaw.

The cut on his lip.

Gil stiffened as if I’d