Sunday morning at the painting studio, Peyton sat two easels away from Hailey. She had arrived at 8am and Hailey an hour after. There were still seats available next to Peyton, but she chose to set up elsewhere.

Mixing her linseed oil, Peyton eyed her. Last night, she had texted Hailey with the apology that she’d meant to send the day prior, before Connor invited her for an impromptu dinner at the tavern. Hailey hadn’t responded and this morning had decidedly chosen to paint a good distance away but still, Peyton felt the need to make nice. As flat and blunt as she could sometimes be, she wasn’t by nature a cold person. She craved as little stress as possible in all areas of her life, and she did genuinely want to tell Hailey that the ink in her watercolor piece looked amazing.

But she also didn’t know if they could talk without acknowledging last time’s conversation, and Peyton wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell Hailey about her recent dinner with Connor. Or that she was replying to his texts every five or so minutes at her easel. She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction that would garner.

Peyton couldn’t hold back a giant smile as she read Connor’s text. He had first messaged a half hour ago to ask if she wanted to go somewhere with him. When she said yes, but that she didn’t want to risk attracting paparazzi, he replied that there were none at the place he planned to take her, and that he was looking to leave for the mystery location within the hour.

“I guess some people come here to text and not work,” someone muttered.

“Right?”

The second voice belonged to Hailey.

Okay, not cool, Hailey, Peyton thought as she turned her phone from vibrate to silent. She had hoped that Hailey wasn’t still mad and was, like her, just trying to think of an icebreaker. But apparently, that wasn’t so. Thankfully, Peyton didn’t care to dwell much on it because Connor texted back within seconds.

Peyton smirked.

His reply fired back fast.

Peyton laughed, ignoring the others who peered at her curiously. You don’t even know where I am, she texted him before deciding to give her phone a break. The second she tossed it in her tote bag, Hailey strolled on by.

“Have you even painted today?” she asked, cocking a dubious eyebrow.

“I got a lot done before you came,” Peyton said civilly. “Also… I texted you yesterday. Did you get it?”

Hailey chewed her gum and examined a split end. “Yeah.”

“Do you forgive me for bringing up the whole catfish thing?” Peyton asked only to be violently hushed.

“Yes, but don’t talk about it anymore. God, that word alone gives me PTSD.”

“Sorry.” Peyton shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She could see her phone lighting with new texts but she ignored them. To her relief, Hailey cracked a smile.

“Who’s that?” she smirked, nudging Peyton. “Is it Connor Schaffer?” she asked. Then she giggled and held her hands up. “I’m kidding. Sorry. Too soon.”

Peyton wiggled her pursed lips awkwardly. Unsure of whether she wanted to tell Hailey about Connor and risk another long conversation, she brainstormed new topics.

“That ink looks so good with that watercolor,” she said finally, nodding toward Hailey’s easel. “Makes me want to try watercolor for my next piece. I haven’t done anything but oil in ages.”

“Ohhh, okay, I see.”

“What?”

Hailey nodded, deliberately nonchalant. “We’re just going to pretend the Connor thing didn’t happen. Got it.”

Peyton heaved a sigh. “Hailey, I just don’t know if there’s any point for us to talk about it anymore. It can be one of those things we agree to disagree on. I didn’t feel used, you think I was, there’s no verdict, let’s move on. Right?”

Hailey shrugged, disapproval pursing her lips. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I feel like we always agreed on the fact that we knew who we were, and we wouldn’t try to become one of those girls.”

“What girls?”

“Just like, you know… Kensie girls with the crazy, glamorous lives and Instagram pictures and whatever. We’re not meant for that and that’s fine because we’re the ones who’re gonna have the good, stable lives in the end, with no drama, no assholes – actual skills and personality because we didn’t spend our twenties partying.”

Peyton blinked. “I think I agreed that we might be indoorsy types. And not the ones who are meant for the spotlight.”

“Exactly.”

“But we were in college when we decided that and things can change as we get older – not that I think I ever want to live in the spotlight but sometimes, something new is fun. Plus, I really don’t think that every hot party girl right now has no personality and is going to be punished with loneliness and a shitty life later because they went clubbing and dated a lot when they were younger. It doesn’t have to be one extreme or the other,” she said with a frown. “And trust me, while I say that, I’m having a hard time living it because I’m the queen of erring completely on the safe side, but there’ve just been some… recent events that make me realize I can be me and still do things that are fun and different.” Peyton bit her bottom lip back and shrugged. “We’re allowed to surprise ourselves, Hailey, and step outside the box. I mean our lives aren’t completely written for us already, we can change things if we want to.”

Hailey nodded throughout the speech but once Peyton finished, she made a big show of cringing. “Yeah, I don’t know if I buy that.”

Peyton wanted to scratch her eyes out. “Okay, then let’s just leave it at that.”

“Fine, but last word just to remind you: I’m not trying to be hurtful, I’m just making sure you don’t set yourself up for disappointment, because not to bring up Connor again,” she sped up so Peyton couldn’t interrupt, “but did he ever call you? Did he ever even ask your name in the Bahamas? And if he did, would he remember it now?”

Jaw clenched, Peyton felt her blood boiling. She tried to figure out where to even start, but the second her mouth opened to retort, she was interrupted by the studio’s squeaky metal door flinging wide open.

As was the case any time someone new walked in, every head in the studio turned to look.

Peyton’s heart stopped when she saw that familiar figure filling the doorframe.

Frozen like a deer in headlights, she watched as Connor ambled in, that signature grin of his curving those gorgeous lips the moment he spotted her. Holy. Shit. As usual, he wore the hell out of a simple white V-neck and blue jeans. The only difference in his usual look was the fitted black baseball cap that Peyton figured was a means of disguise. But it didn’t work on everyone.

“Is that…?”

As the buzz started, Peyton felt her body go ahead and pack up for her since her mind was taking its deliriously sweet time to process the whole situation. It wasn’t until Hailey spoke that she stirred from her state.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Her question was half-whisper, half-hiss. Before Peyton could answer, Connor reached her easel and wordlessly picked up her backpack for her, slinging it over his shoulder and nodding at Hailey.

“Hey,” he said before turning to Peyton. “And you thought I didn’t know where you were,” he smirked, mischief twisting his lips. Peyton didn’t bother to mask her awe.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You said artist’s studio in DUMBO and I went from there.”

Peyton narrowed her eyes at him. “There’s more than one of these in DUMBO.”

He grinned. “You also mentioned the name of the place the other night during dinner. When you said you were working on a sunflower painting,” he revealed.

“Ohh yeah,” Peyton murmured, stealing a glance at Hailey, who stared at Connor with unblinking eyes.

“You should bring this.” Connor nodded at Peyton’s piece while studying it.

“Bring it where? It’s wet,” Peyton protested. “I have to let it dry on the rack.”

“Alright. Then at least bring your brushes and paints,” Connor said with a mischievous smirk. He lowered his voice so only she and Hailey could hear. “You’re going to want to paint when we get up to the house.”

Peyton couldn’t hold back her excitement. “What house?”

“My other one,” he grinned, nodding at the door. “Now come on. It’s a three-hour drive.”

With every pair of eyes in the studio fixed on him, Connor opted to head out first, carrying Peyton’s bag and equipment while she gently packed away her canvas. Glancing around, she prayed to God that no one in the room could confirm that they’d seen Connor Schaffer and not just some other gorgeous guy with the same gorgeous smirk.

“Peyton. You wanna tell me what the hell’s going on?” Hailey finally hissed. Peyton looked up once she finished carefully packing her canvas.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully.

Pulling her aside, Hailey squinted at her. “Did you guys have sex yet or did you just make out?” she suddenly asked. Peyton had a feeling she knew where this was going but she answered truthfully anyway.

“We haven’t had sex yet.”

“Oh my God,” Hailey slapped her forehead. “Peyton. You’re an idiot. Either that or you’re really smart because let’s be real, Connor Schaffer is going to stop being nice to you the second he’s done getting into your pants. You’re like, the first girl in history who hasn’t jumped on his dick within five minutes of meeting him so obviously he’s going to work a little harder to break you. But once he does, it’s over. You know that right? He’s not going to magically change his asshole ways and make you into his girlfriend,” Hailey said heatedly. When Peyton said nothing, she groaned loudly and ran her hands up her face. “Dammit, Peyton, I thought you were smarter than this. Like – were you this naïve the whole time or have you just been hanging out too much with Kensie?”

Peyton stared at Hailey, astounded by her overwhelming negativity. There were about a million awful things she wanted to say right there and then but quickly, she decided that it wasn’t worth it.

She was about to go away with Connor and there was no sense in kicking off her trip with the kind of bitterness that Hailey specialized in. So instead, she gave a shrug.

“I’m enjoying my life a lot right now, Hailey. You should find something to enjoy, too,” Peyton said before she headed for the exit.

Outside, on the sidewalk, she couldn’t help but stop and watch for a little as Connor loaded his black Yukon with her tote bag and supplies. He was so cute, and damn it, she was smart. She knew this.

But for once in her life, she was jumping instead of standing still. And she didn’t mind it. She loved the safety of planting two feet firm on the ground, but she also had a hunch that she needed to enjoy the air sometimes, too. For the first time in her life, she didn’t even care to wonder how she might land.

For now, she was just going to roll with it.