So Damn Beautiful (A New Adult Romance) by L.J. Kennedy

don’t know the
first thing about street art. The one person I know who could be
considered a street artist is perhaps the most obnoxious person
I’ve ever met, so if he’s any indication of what I’m dealing with,
I’m definitely screwed.”
    Mom sighed. “Adaptability is one of your
strongest suits. If you stick with this curatorship, just think of
what it’ll do for your resume, all the doors it’ll open for you.
Remember how much you hated math when you were younger?”
    I smiled. “I still do, Mom.”
    “Well, yes, but remember how you still took
all the most advanced math classes throughout middle school and
high school? And you passed with flying colors. Now, that doesn’t
mean that it came naturally to you or that it was easy, but . . .
you’re my daughter, and I know you to be someone who never takes
the easy way out.” Her voice started to shake, which meant she was
getting emotional.
    “Mom, I know . . . ,” I said, trying to brush
off what I could tell was an impending speech.
    “But you see, that’s what’s remarkable about
you, and I think you constantly forget it. From an early age,
you’ve always had your eye on the prize—you’ve always known what it
takes to fulfill a dream. You’ve always been aware that planting a
garden requires pulling up weeds and getting your hands dirty. I
love your passion, but I also love your discipline—and when you put
those things together, it makes for an unstoppable combination.
Annie Bear, you have to remember that even sour grapes can make
incredible wine.”
    “Thanks, Mom. I love you.” She always knew
how to make me feel better.
    “I love you, too, Annie Bear.”
    After we ended our conversation, I realized
Mom’s comment made me think about my last encounter with incredible
wine, which turned my smile into a frown. At that moment, I
realized Chase Adams was truly the only person I knew in the world
of street art. I could approach Professor Claremont for advice on
the most promising public artists, but I wanted to prove myself to
the committee. If Elsie thought she was going to beat me down by
attacking my vulnerabilities, she was sorely mistaken. I was
definitely going to come out swinging—I didn’t really have a
choice.
    As I went to sleep, I thought about Chase—but
not with the chagrin and anger I’d come to associate as my primary
feelings about him. Chase was the one person I knew who was
passionately in love with street art; as cocky as he was about
everything else, it was obvious that his talent and his respect for
the tradition in which he’d grown up were genuine. I wondered . . .
if I could still the beating of my heart enough to approach him,
more like a humble admirer than a girl conflicted by both rage and
attraction, would he be willing to help me?
    As I drifted off, the last image in my mind
was of Chase’s green eyes, as tortured and intensely beautiful as a
storm-tossed sea.

Chapter Ten
    I did what
any girl in my position would do. The next day, I swallowed my
pride, and set out to find Chase to see if he might be willing to
help me. I dreaded what I imagined would be the look of smug
satisfaction on his face at the discovery that I needed him for
something, but I was desperate. If I was going to come up with an
artist who was willing to be commissioned for a massive piece to be
made in just a little over a month, I would require a bevy of
names, which I didn’t currently have. And because I knew that
notoriety on the streets was gained through word of mouth, rather
than through whose website got the most hits, the bird’s-eye view
didn’t quite work here. I needed to swoop in and find the
insiders.
    That morning, I’d approached Kendra to get
the scoop on Chase, since she’d known who he was and where to find
him the first time we’d met. But I tried to play it cool; the last
thing I needed was Kendra scolding me about pursuing bad boys like
Chase or, worse yet, grilling me for minor details—like whether or
not