So Damn Beautiful (A New Adult Romance)

by L. J. Kennedy

  I smiled and wrapped him into a hug. “I’m great—just thinking about all the shit I have to do for this Quentin Pierce project.”

  He stepped back to look at me and smirked slightly, and I could see a little of the old Chase swagger creeping in. “We got this, babe. You know I’m gonna knock it out of the ballpark, right?”

  I frowned slightly, thinking back to our near-fateful encounter with the cops. “Chase, I really can’t . . . I can’t have this fail. I know you’re maybe the most incredible artist in the show, but I just worry you’re not taking it as seriously as you should.”

  I cringed at my abrupt change in tone, but Chase didn’t react in an offended way. It was hard to separate what was developing between us from the fact that we had something of a professional connection. I didn’t want “work” to get in the way of play, but with the deadline for Chase’s commissioned piece nearing, I wanted to be clear that we couldn’t afford to get waylaid by passion.

  “Annie, I swear to you, they are gonna be throwing accolades and laurel wreaths at you when they see what I’m doing. It won’t be like anything anyone’s ever seen. This isn’t for all the people engaging in mental masturbation at the galleries. It’s for all the people with MetroCards and the tiniest bit of hope. I’m thinking inside-out, so you don’t have to worry.”

  I felt almost guilty for second-guessing Chase, but before I could apologize, he moved toward me and kissed me. Hunger and sweetness were on his lips, and I willingly gave in, softening into his arms and that intoxicating leather-and-smoke scent of his. I could feel the eyes of bystanders on us, and a few people even whistled. Where I would typically have been self-conscious as hell, I felt sexy and beautiful. I was sure the women walking by were giving me the evil eye, considering the fact that wherever we went, girls always stopped to either stare at or flirt with Chase. But today, he was all mine.

  When I was on the train, reeling from the aftermath of the night, I noticed a plethora of flashy graffiti tags all over the interior. Normally, I would simply have viewed them as visual noise cluttering my space and attention, but this time, I really looked. I was used to admiring the commissioned murals, city-supported painting projects, and permission walls that cropped up now and then, but, amazingly enough, knowing Chase made me look at the more commonplace material in a different way.

  I could see why Chase always talked about how the real art was the stuff we never stopped to view as legitimate. Sure, there were unintelligible scrawls that had probably been made as acts of rebellion, but there was also beauty on those walls. I’d come to recognize the more interesting glyphs—characterized by eye-catching letter structure, unexpected color schemes, the occasional badass character, and crazy control. Some of it was freeform, and some of it was as painstakingly wrought as any of the modern pieces Professor Claremont heralded.

  I was so engrossed in the details that I jumped when I heard a beep in my backpack. When I looked, I saw I’d just received a text from Harrison: “Can you meet for lunch?”

  Suddenly, my hands felt clammy and I thought I was going to faint. With everything that had happened, the thought of Harrison hadn’t even crossed my mind. Technically, he was my boyfriend—and I’d grown up believing loyalty was the one thing that mattered most—but the mere idea of him filled me with dread. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him about Chase, and on top of that, I was a terrible liar.

  How had I gotten myself into this mess? I slouched down in my seat and closed my eyes. Chase wasn’t exactly boyfriend material, but the way he made me feel, the way he inspired me, the way he made every cell in my body stand at attention . . . I couldn’t deny any of it. Harrison was the kind of guy my mother always referred to as “marriageable,” but the burning sense of closeness that I yearned for was missing with him. If I’d thought I could grow into caring about him before, the night with Chase had totally shattered my expectations.

  I had to break up with Harrison.

  The churning discomfort in my stomach got stronger as I texted him back: “Yes, I’m free. Where do you want to meet?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I met Harrison at a fancy yet quiet café on Bleecker Street. Tango music was playing in the background, each table was covered with a bone-white tablecloth, and the waiters were stiff and uniformed. I smiled to myself. It was a far cry from the picnic dinner of our first date.

  I was glad the café wasn’t full of people. I’d felt like a movie star upon departing Chase’s, but I must’ve looked at least a little bit grungy. I was a bit of a mess—I hadn’t had time to go home and change before I met Harrison, so I was wearing the same pair of jeans and V-neck top I’d had on the night before—but he was in perfect form: dapper and fresh-looking, in a gray cashmere pullover and straight-legged chinos. I felt underdressed in comparison, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  He was so enthusiastic to see me that I felt almost ungrateful to be the bearer of bad news. As he held my hands in his across the table and talked about his family’s upcoming winter vacation to the Seychelles, however, it was hard for me to imagine he’d take the news all that poorly. Harrison was rich, hot, kind, and effortlessly awesome. If he’d never felt the sting of rejection before, I couldn’t imagine that breaking up with him so early in our relationship would leave much of a lasting impact.

  “Harrison,” I interrupted before he could say anything more and before lunch got to us. I’d ordered only a San Pellegrino, since I wasn’t hungry after my ginormous brunch with Chase. Besides, I was beginning to feel nauseous, and I was hoping the bubbles would calm my stomach and nerves. I was about to launch right into my breakup spiel, say something cliché like, “I think we need to take a breather from this because it’s moving too fast,” which would have been glossing over the truth, but at least it would have gotten the message out on the table.

  Before I could, he leaned closer and studied me with a look of unaffected tenderness. “You know, Annie, you have the most amazing eyes. I always thought they were blue, but they’re more . . . kaleidoscopic or something.”

  I sighed inwardly. Here I was, attempting to give Harrison the slip—and he was complimenting my beauty? The whole situation seemed a little wackadoo. “Um, uh, thanks.”

  I smiled, suddenly feeling a bit of hesitation. When I’d broken up with Peter, it had been easy enough—he’d cheated on me, so a screaming match had seemed like the best way to handle it at the time. But I wasn’t accustomed to breaking up with someone who was actually a genuinely nice guy, so everything I’d anticipated saying felt bland and uncalled for. All the same, I had to do it.

  “Harrison, all of this is very sweet, but I really don’t deserve it. I have to tell you—”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “Save it, Annie. False modesty won’t get you anywhere today.” He smiled, then winked. “I have something for you,” he said, digging out something from his pocket. I held my breath as he presented me with a tiny black velvet box.

  Oh God, he isn’t . . . , I thought. “What is it?” I asked, trying to keep the shake out of my voice.

  “Open it,” he said.

  I did, and gasped. “Oh, Harrison, it’s stunning.” Inside the box was a beautiful gold-and-silver-plated necklace with two tiny hearts entwined, a halo of crystals encrusting them. I couldn’t imagine how much it had cost.

  “It’s Swarovski,” he said, pleased at my reaction. “I thought it would be versatile enough to go with everything but not so subtle that it wouldn’t let you know how I feel about you.”

  My heart stopped, but not in a good way. I could barely make eye contact—Harrison was looking at me so sweetly that I was afraid I’d start crying.

  “Harrison, I can’t . . . ,” I said weakly, but he stopped me.

  “This is one gift I won’t let you not accept,” he said, taking the necklace and standing to put it around my neck. I was dumbstruck. Given his behavior, I didn’t know how I could actually break up with him. I hadn’t realized the relationship was ser
ious enough to merit such a beautiful gift.

  Instead of going back to his side of the table, Harrison knelt next to me and looked intently in my eyes. “Annie, I realize this might seem like it’s going fast, but I can’t wuss out on telling you how I feel,” he said, grabbing my hand in his. “And trust me, I meet a lot of girls, but I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time. I think you’re gorgeous, sweet, smart—but most of all, you’re not like other girls around here. You have a heart and soul, genuine family values. You’re not hardened and cynical like other people. You’re driven without losing your softness. And you’re honest—you wear your heart and your passion on your sleeve. I feel like I can really trust you.”

  The insides of my stomach churned like crazy. I felt awful. The person Harrison was describing was someone I’d always thought I was, but last night had thrown me . . . hard. If Harrison thought he could trust me, I didn’t know how he’d feel if he discovered the truth. I closed my eyes for a moment and had a bright flash of my hottest moments with Chase: his fingers and tongue all over me, my body responding in ways that were totally unprecedented. It had felt so pure and right, but now, as I sat before Harrison, hearing him pour out all his feelings for me, I felt ashamed.

  “Harrison, I don’t know what to say. . . .” Apparently, that wasn’t a deterrent for him.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Annie. Just take it all in—I can wait.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek and went back to his seat. “I wanted to let you know my parents are going to be in town right before the opening of the Quentin Pierce show.”

  “Oh? I thought they were in Europe till the end of the year,” I said, fiddling nervously with my napkin.

  “Well, they’re coming back early. They’re really looking forward to meeting you.” He had a giant smile on his face. “I know that sounds like a lot of pressure, since we’re still pretty new to each other, but I know they’ll love you. My dad got a kick out of the fact that you’re from Apple Creek. He even said, ‘Son, those Apple Creek girls are second to none.’” Harrison momentarily affected his dad’s voice—deep and booming.

  “I, uh . . . I don’t know, Harrison. I’m going to be so busy during that time,” I said, attempting to deflect what I felt was totally unwarranted adoration on his part.

  “It’s okay, Annie—we’ll find the time, even if we have to work around your schedule.” He paused. “This means a lot to me, too—I almost never introduce my girlfriends to my parents, but . . . this is different.” For a moment, he looked like a little boy. “I’m one hundred percent sure of my feelings, Annie.” A look of stubbornness came over his face. “You couldn’t change that, even if you tried,” he added, with a vehemence that made me want to protest.

  Tears came to my eyes. I was touched by Harrison’s declaration, but I was also racked by guilt over what had happened between Chase and me. Confusion filled my heart. How could I deny the passion I’d experienced last night, which honestly felt like that once-in-a-lifetime heat I’d been so used to reading about but never would have imagined I’d actually live? At the same time, how could I deny Harrison’s feelings for me, or the fact he was one of the most upstanding guys I’d ever met? I would be a fool to just walk away from someone who was handing me his heart so sincerely. From the moment I’d met Harrison, I’d known on an intuitive level that he wouldn’t be the type of man to let me down, that I could count on him. He was solid and sincere, certain and safe.

  A sliver of doubt crept in. Would it be a complete mistake to throw out what we had? It was still so new and unfamiliar, and I didn’t want to make the wrong decision.

  I sighed. Harrison’s eyes were so full of stars. There was no way I could tell him about last night. I swallowed and squeezed his hand across the table. “Harrison, I appreciate everything you’re telling me, but I don’t know if I can . . . I don’t know if I can return those feelings. It’s just too soon.”

  He nodded, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. “I don’t expect you to. Not yet, Annie. You don’t have to know how you feel yet. Let me do the work for you, and I know you’ll catch up in due time.”

  I smiled, but my throat felt parched and I could muster no more words. For better or worse, I was still Harrison’s girlfriend.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Life was hectic enough that I had to put on hold any thoughts of either Chase or Harrison while I studied for exams and sussed out the particulars of the Quentin Pierce mural. Hayden, Elsie, and Shawn were well on their way to finished pieces, which was good news, considering the opening of the show was less than a month away. I braced myself for another tongue lashing from Claudia, and even though I felt I could trust Chase to deliver on his word, I was nervous about how little I knew of his process, and how little we had actually discussed the details of his mural.

  I tried to put it out of my mind and muster a confident pose as I walked into the room where we were meeting. I was surprised to see everyone there already, clustered around Claudia’s laptop, their eyes glued to her screen.

  “Hey,” I said, announcing my presence. “Anything new on TMZ?”

  All of them looked up at me simultaneously. Elsie was the only one who seemed flustered, while the other three had enormous grins on their faces.

  “Way to go, Annie!” Shawn hooted. “Thinking about publicity already, eh?” He winked.

  I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Hayden came up to me, flapping her hands in excitement. “You have to tell me what he’s like, Annie! I mean, being that up close and personal with the creative process must’ve felt so incredible! Are you his muse or something? Do you guys collaborate regularly on his other work?”

  I was thoroughly confused. I looked at Claudia, and she gestured for me to come over.

  “This is incredible, Annie. You have no idea how much this has helped our cause!” She turned her screen so that I could see she was looking at New York Minute, the hottest gossip blog in the city. Much to my amazement, there was a photograph of Chase . . . and me! We were looking not at the camera, but rather at each other. I was wearing the same sapphire-blue sweater dress and black boots I’d been wearing the night I’d met up with him in the Bronx for our subway adventure. Chase had his arm casually slung around my waist, and he seemed to be saying something remarkably interesting, given my wide-eyed gaze in the photograph.

  My heart just about stopped. I clutched the edge of the table to keep myself upright. I knew Chase had a following, but I’d had no idea that some paparazzo had been following us around, snapping pictures. I shuddered to think of how far we’d been followed.

  “I, uh, I had no idea someone took this picture,” I said.

  “Yeah, right,” Elsie snarled, as she walked back to her seat at the table.

  Claudia ignored her and replied, “Well, regardless, this is really good news for us. Check it out.”

  I read the brief article below the picture and cringed.

  “Resident bad boy and graffiti connoisseur Chase Adams was recently seen at the Silver Edge, one of his regular stomping grounds (when he’s not too busy breaking rules and hearts, that is). This time, he was with a friend. Word has it he’s been spending quite a bit of time with this sultry blonde, Annie Green, a New York University student who’s one of four people hand-picked by Quentin Pierce to jettison the current malaise of the art scene in favor of hotter, more cutting-edge pieces by an exclusive group of local creatives. The upcoming show is rumored to be the biggest our city’s seen to date. Despite the recent crackdown on graffiti art and Adams’s widely reported aversion to authorities, at the very least, these two offer up some yummy eye candy. Seems like a match made in heaven, if you ask us.”

  Claudia read along with me. “A match made in heaven! They’ve pretty much turned you into a household name, Annie. Do you know how many hits this site gets?”

  “It’s a cheap publicity stunt,” Elsie complained. “This isn’t supposed to be about Annie’s latest adventures i
n dating.”

  “I’m not dating Chase,” I shot back through gritted teeth, embarrassed at all the pairs of eyes in the room (and outside it, apparently) now on me.

  “Elsie, lighten up,” Claudia said. “The rumor mill isn’t very discerning, but this is most definitely something we can use to our advantage. Youth, sex, and beauty always draw flocks of people. Stuffy droves of old people with cloying opinions? No way! Quentin will love this. We have the public right where we want them.” She clacked furiously away on her keyboard, presumably to ply Quentin (ever absent) with the good news.

  I felt queasy as Elsie slunk down in her chair and my other teammates sized me up with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. Awesome—now all of them thought that Chase and I were screwing, and that was definitely not how I wanted to be remembered in the long run as far as my part in the show was concerned. Not to mention I was technically Harrison’s girlfriend (at least until I could figure out a way to break up with him as painlessly as possible), and I definitely didn’t want anyone, especially Elsie, to think I was playing him.

  “Chase and I are just friends,” I said. “That story is completely exaggerated. We, uh, met up by accident and started talking about the piece he’s going to do. Nothing happened!”

  “Relax, Annie. You don’t have to explain anything, and frankly, we don’t care,” Claudia said. “But all the same, I congratulate you on a job well done. It takes a certain kind of genius to inadvertently find yourself on the most popular blog in New York City. I don’t care how you managed it—all that matters is that you did!”

  I tried to smile. “Um, thanks . . . I guess.”

  For the remainder of the meeting, we hashed out more logistics, which quickly erased all thoughts of Chase. At one point, Claudia suggested we get into pairs to discuss installation specifics in the sculpture garden that had recently been built in the courtyard of the Barney Building, which wasn’t too far from the gallery where Quentin would feature the works acquired by him for the show. As Claudia mentioned some of the names—Willem de Kooning, Claes Oldenburg, Andy Warhol, Diane Arbus, Georgia O’Keeffe, and even Marc Chagall—I couldn’t help but be excited. Unfortunately, I was asked to pair up with Elsie to think about some of the spatial details of our work. Given that I didn’t exactly know Chase’s plans for the mural, Elsie did most of the talking, suggesting that Todd Butcher’s film be featured alongside, or even projected onto, his sculpture. I nodded, doing my best not to rouse Elsie’s anger or any prying questions from her. Naturally, she beat me to the punch.