Three months later…
I stare at the empty white page of my sketchbook, tapping my black marker thoughtfully against the surface of the table.
One more.
Just one more scene to draw and my very first graphic novel will be finished.
C’mon, Lia. Think.
“More coffee, m’lady?” a voice interrupts my thoughts. I slide my headphones off my ears and look up at Grayson. He’s holding the coffee pot comically poised above my empty cup like he’s one of those fancy, tuxedo-clad waiters on the Titanic.
“Oh, yes, please,” I say in my best posh accent.
He pours the delicious Italian roast into my cup, sets the coffee pot down on the table, and slides into the booth next to me with an exhausted sigh.
I glance around the restaurant, just now noticing that it’s empty. I check the clock on my phone. It’s already midnight.
“How’d it go?” I ask.
Grayson grins. “We broke a thousand dollars for the fifth night in a row.”
I beam. “That’s amazing!”
Ever since Grayson took over the restaurant three months ago, sales have skyrocketed. Our revenue has now surpassed even what it was when my mother ran the place. Word of Grayson’s delicious cooking spread fast around Eastbrook, and within two months, we had a waitlist every single night.
But he always keeps one table reserved for me.
Table 9.
Our table.
Where I like to sit and draw.
He nods toward my sketchbook. “How did it go here?”
“Good, I think. I only have one scene left and then I’m done.”
His eyes widen. “As in done done?”
I bite my lip. “I think so.”
“Awesome!” He gestures to the book. “Let me see the title page again.”
I grin and flip back the pages to the beginning, showing him for the umpteenth time the artwork I drew for the cover. It features a sexy girl assassin in a belted pink dress and black combat boots. She’s wielding nunchucks in one hand and a throwing knife in the other. She may look cute and slight but she’s fierce and pretty darn deadly.
Underneath in bold, metallic letters is the title:
“Lil’ Killer”
I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of showing it to him.
“My girlfriend, the graphic novelist,” Grayson says, kissing the top of my head.
I giggle girlishly, still getting used to the label. Both of them, actually.
It’s taken my dad a while to come around to the idea of me and Grayson together. He was pretty mad when we first told him. At both of us. But he’s finally starting to accept the fact that Grayson is still in the picture, he’s just with me instead of Alex.
And Alex…
Well, I haven’t heard from her since the day she stormed out and told me she never wanted to see me again. She certainly has kept her word on that.
I’ve tried reaching out to her countless times but she never responds. I guess I can’t blame her. Still, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of her. That I don’t miss her. That I don’t regret her pain.
I wish it had happened differently. I wish Grayson and I could have found each other without shattering my sister’s heart. But that’s just not how it goes.
Sometimes endings aren’t tied up in a pretty pink bow.
Sometimes happiness comes at a price.
Just like my mom said.
But the difference is, I stuck around to face that price. While my mother ran away from the destruction she left behind, I confront mine every day. And I’m going to keep confronting it until my sister hopefully decides to forgive me. To forgive us both.
“So,” Grayson says, inching his hand up my leg and under the hem of my skirt, making me shiver wildly. “This last scene, you mention. Is it a steamy raunchy sex scene in the middle of an empty restaurant?”
I flash him a wicked grin, letting my legs fall apart, inviting him into me with my eyes. “It certainly can be,” I reply seductively.
He sucks in a breath through his teeth and moves his hand further up my leg, flicking his fingertip against the edge of my panties. His other hand lands on the back of my head, steering me to him. He captures my mouth with his, opening it wide with his tongue, and kissing me with everything he has.
I fall back onto the booth, releasing a shudder of a sigh. He reaches below my skirt and yanks my panties down, brushing his thumb back and forth until I’m wet and trembling for him.
“I definitely think it should be,” he murmurs huskily, undoing his belt.
I kick up, using my foot to draw his pants around his ankles.
He dives for my lips again, consuming me with his deep, probing kiss, as he lowers himself onto me, his glorious weight pressing my body into the soft foam of the booth.
I spread my legs wider, thrusting my skirt up over my hips. He maneuvers on top of me, finding his way to the place where he belongs. Where he fits perfectly.
I gasp as I feel him enter me, moving inside of me, sending tremors to the very epicenter of my soul. Rocking my body to the core.