Loyal Heir (The Heirs 4)

When I pull back, we both take a moment to breathe, and then I say, “I know Kennedy being back is one hell of a shock, but it doesn’t mean anything. Me and you,” I gesture between us, “is all that matters to me.”

Aria stares at me for a moment, then she sits down, shaking her head. “I saw how happy you were to see her. It’s kind of hard to forget how in love the two of you were.”

“Were,” I exclaim. “It’s been a year, Aria.”

She only shrugs. “Don’t mind me. I’m just tired.”

Turning to her workspace, I wipe her paintbrush off and place it in the jar to soak. I pick up her bag and shrug it over my shoulder, then grab the beverage and bagel. “Come on.”

Aria doesn’t argue, and when she gets up, I hand her the cappuccino. I take her free hand and linking our fingers, I pull her out of the classroom and head for our dorm. I only stop when we walk into my bedroom.

I set everything down, then turn to Aria. “Get in bed.”

She kicks off her sneakers and sits down on the edge of the mattress. Her shoulders slump, and it has me crouching in front of her.

“Talk to me, babe,” I urge her to open up to me.

Aria shakes her head, sucking in a trembling breath.

Tilting my head, I ask, “Since when do we keep secrets from each other?”

She lifts her eyes to mine, and they look bruised. She brings her hand to my jaw, then murmurs, “You’re the most amazing person I know.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

The corner of her mouth lifts, and she rubs her eyes tiredly. “Everything just caught up to me. The workload, the expectations.”

“So, it’s not us?” I ask.

“No.”

“Everything you said about us not working? What was that about?”

She shrugs again. “Me overreacting. You know how I get when Aunt Flo tap dances over my ovaries.”

Getting up, I push her back so she’ll lie down. “I’ll get you a hot pack.”

I go to her room and grab the hot pack and warm it in the microwave. When I get back to my room, I shut the door behind me. Reaching the bed, I sit down on the side and press the pack over her abdomen. “Anything else I can get you?”

Aria’s chin quivers, and she whispers, “A hug.”

I step out of my shoes and lay down beside her. Pulling her into my arms, I press a kiss on the top of her head, then mumble, “For the record. I hate Aunt Flo.”

She lets out a chuckle. “That makes two of us.”

I turn her onto her side and begin to rub her lower back. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up for your lecture at ten.”

“Okay.” She snuggles against me, and having her in my arms with things fine between us again, I let out a relieved sigh.

ARIA

It feels like I’m watching a train wreck, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I feel downright bipolar.

My eyes are glued to Kennedy, where we’re all having lunch. Her bright smile. Her deep green eyes. Her hair looks like golden waves.

“Do you remember those god-awful matching shirts we got?” Kennedy asks Forest.

He chuckles. “Yeah, I still don’t know why you thought bright yellow was a good idea.”

They both laugh at the memory.

I lower my eyes to the salad in front of me, unable to watch them reminiscing a second longer.

This morning I tried to gather the guts to break up with Forest, but I couldn’t go through with it.

I suck in a breath of air, everything in me feeling numb and fragile.

Forest’s hand suddenly grips mine, and my head snaps up. He leans into me. “Let’s go.”

Nodding, I get up, and I force a smile to my face as I say, “See you later, guys.”

When we step out of the restaurant, Forest stops, and framing my face, he begins to lean down.

“Forest,” I hear Kennedy. “Shit… ahh…”

I pull away from him, and somehow I manage to smile at Forest and Kennedy. “I have to get to class.”

I walk away from them and try my best not to look back, but fail miserably, and when I glance over my shoulder, I see Kennedy smiling at Forest, her hand on his bicep.

The sight sends me spiraling further into the dark hole that’s consuming every bit of happiness I ever shared with Forest.

Somehow I’ve managed to regain control over my emotions the past couple of days. I’m doing my best to pretend nothing is wrong. Still, every time Kennedy touches Forest, or they hug or laugh about some memory of when they were in love, it guts me wide open.

At least my painting is practically done, and I think it’s the only reason I haven’t lost my mind yet. Pouring my emotions out on the canvas has provided me with an outlet.