Page 76 of This is a Kissing Book

The switch goes smoothly, though I’m convinced I’ve left the replacement slightly crooked. There’s no time to adjust it now. I cradle the original in my arms and make my way back to the window, trying not to think about how much prison time art theft carries and whether I’d look better in stripes or garish orange.

Through the window, I spot Linc conferring with two men near the building’s corner. My blood turns to ice. I wait, counting down the remaining seconds to pull this off before the security team switches.

One of the guys claps Linc on the shoulder. The other gives him a fist bump. He saunters back to his lookout spot as if this is totally normal and not shady at all to be loitering behind a building in the middle of the night.

“What’s going on?” I whisper urgently as I clamber through the window.

He takes the painting first and then extends his arms for me. “Nothing serious. Just some fans.”

“Fans?” I blink at him. “You have fans?”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Doesn’t everyone?” And there’s that cocky confidence that used to drive me crazy.

“But seriously, what did they want? Weren’t they suspicious about why you were hanging around behind a building at night?”

“I told them I was doing something extremely sketchy.”

“You did not!” I hiss.

He grins. “I did. They asked if I wanted help.”

“They didn’t!”

Arms around my waist, Linc holds me suspended for a pulse-pounding moment. We experience a mid-air blink freeze before he plants me on the ground.

He says, “Actually, I told them I was part of a birthday scavenger hunt.”

“And they believed you?”

“People believe what they want to believe. Plus, it’s not entirely untrue—this whole thing started with your birthday, didn’t it?”

“You’re impossible,” I mutter, but I’m fighting a smile because this man is becoming harder to resist.

“Now let’s get out of here.” He holds out his hand for me to take.

And I do.

28

JULES

All weekend, while I work on taking ultra-high-resolution photos of every inch of the Echo & Answer piece using the tech courtesy of Suzie’s crush, I try to ignore the voice in my head that keeps repeating what Linc said on my birthday. I think I’m going to keep you, Buttercup.

Keep me like what? Like a trophy? An object? A piece of art in his collection? Like how Westley went into danger and to the ends of the earth for true love?

Then I remember the way Linc looked at me when he said it. I was so focused on his winking eye that I didn’t pay attention to the other one. The raw vulnerability there, like he’s never let himself truly want something unless he knows for sure he can have it. Despite the cocky comment and the wink, his other eye revealed a possibility that terrifies me.

He knows I’m not a sure thing.

But does that mean he wants me?

People always talk about yearning to be seen, to be wanted. It’s a strange sensation when it finally happens. Part of me wants to resist it, doesn’t trust it. For so long, keeping my distance has been my protection. If I don’t let people in, they can’t hurt me. If I don’t want things too badly, I can’t be disappointed when they don’t work out.

But what happens if I let him in? What happens if I stop protecting myself and start living instead?

Maybe I could let myself want him.

Or maybe I’m reading this entire situation wrong and this is how he is with all women—his interactions with Ms. Drecken don’t count. Sure, he’s been charming toward her during our meeting—and at the doughnut shop, he gave a fifty percent tip. However, I can’t help but think the way he treats me is different.