THE CONTRACTUAL HEARTBEAT

l

ldn't feel

stating, dangerous, and detonated by a

ke he was trying t

e I was trying t

t remembering the way his mout

's changed, but because I have. My lips still tingle. My heart still r

art? I want it

from Lucas. No s

o garment bags, her usual hurricane

got a day to build you

nk. "

eeting Ha

ters. "The fa

r. She's nosy, brilliant, and terrifyi

y m

Lucas. But she adores women

I'm do

ter yourself. You're exactly

azz. Harper King sits at a table alone, wearing crimson like it's a crown. Her s

ike smoke and old secrets. "You l

say evenly. "

res for m

ea. She waves him a

fake engagements. And Lucas Thorn doesn't b

ybe we're both faki

ent. "Careful. I enjoy ri

ips h

rs. He doesn't waste time on appearances unless

e. "I keep him

rous a

ngerous re

forward. "Doe

itate

u love

tightens.

ound like shat

ck, "you're either a very go

le. "Maybe I'

You're hopeful. That

, sets the cup down

ons that have teeth. If you'r

afraid

hen you might

Lucas is in the west library, shirt s

up when I enter.

Brillian

likes

ow. "She to

ou weren't a c

h pr

ances up. "Don't

rper or

r. Instead, he s

a prop

. "Anot

e benefi

arms. "I'm

t weekend. The Glob

preten

ip for emerging artists. International

stutter

te speaker. I

at him

And your talent deserves more

ng almost gentl

mo

t want

harity. It'

e it is,"

pens. "Take i

ake

d of press appearances, fake inter

more. Each time more v

art of the empty smile," sh

've mastered the art of

e we're two firestor

ice somet

hing me d

ting for me to

sts m

ty auctions where he bids two million on a painting just because I said I liked it.

need to feel somet

it, but I

ntly. Sharpl

e Global Arts S

in soft waves, and a pair of

ack tux like it

m, cameras flashing

orary masterpieces. Abstracts. Portraits

arely b

elongs here,

y head. "

e toward h

boring. Lucas

a As revolution. Of creation

believ

, we

pproaches us. "Your speech was

"Thank yo

must be Elena. Lucas menti

"Only on

d love to see y

. "Seri

. You might be perfect f

choked.

enses covered. You'd w

pins. "I

d. "Lucas was right

ow my heels across the room

es me from

whisper. "L

old

this?" I ask, voice

I can't believe in love, I

not th

softly. "But i

towar

hat do

brushes

For as long

t enough,"

kno

he kisses

eper. More

, I don't

e, I let

p in his

ts. Shado

on fire. His m

, we lie tangled t

ce does

hone

heck

lln

is it?

answer. J

uc

eyes darker than

's back in

mach t

that

catast

hy

he knows

ps. "What do

ike ice, "that everything's abo