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

the
walls and sidewalks, but they seemed pretty fixated on what they
were doing. And while Chase wasn’t the most approachable guy in the
world, many of the ones here seemed even less friendly. In fact, a
fellow who was busy embellishing his version of the puffy
Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters on a brick wall yelled at
me, “Get the fuck out of the way—can’t you see the cameras?” when I
asked him if he knew Chase Adams.
    I turned around to see some of the cameras
I’d spotted earlier; they were off in other areas of the alley.
“Uh, yes, but they’re not anywhere near us,” I said, confused.
    The guy sighed in exasperation and responded,
“No shit, Sherlock! But if they decide to turn around, they won’t
give me the time of day if they see some stupid tourist checking
out my skills with goo-goo eyes.” He looked at me, fluttering his
eyes in mockery.
    Another rude street artist? Would wonders
never cease? First of all, I’m not a tourist. Second of all, I’m
not giving your ‘shit’ goo-goo eyes, because it sucks! I
thought. But of course I would never say it, so I just turned on my
heel and walked away.
    I didn’t have to walk far, though. At the end
of the alley was Chase, a cigarette between his lips,
spray-painting a wall just as feverishly as the guy I’d just talked
to. I suddenly felt like a fool. What was I trying to do—rack up
more insults from the king of them all? I didn’t know exactly how I
would appeal to Chase’s better instincts, but one could hope, all
the same. Before I could think of some not completely asinine way
to greet him, Chase turned around. Weirdly enough, he wasn’t upset
to see me—he had a smile on his face, in fact.
    “Well, well, well, how did I just know you’d
be back, Goldilocks?” He took the cigarette between his thumb and
index finger. “My Spidey sense has been tingling for a few days
now.”
    I rolled my eyes, hoping I’d have the
patience to withstand his cockiness long enough to be pointed in
the right direction. “My name isn’t Goldilocks.”
    He smiled again, assessing me with those cool
green eyes. He was clean-shaven today, and since the air was a
little crisp, he was wearing a hoodie over his T-shirt, with the
hood low over his head. It didn’t matter, though—Chase Adams
couldn’t be inconspicuous if he tried.
    He turned away from me and back to his
artwork. “I know, Annie Green with Envy.”
    Anger bubbled in my veins. “What exactly do I
have to be envious of?”
    He looked at me and smiled. “All my admirers.
Remember?” He put the cigarette between his lips again.
    I scowled when I thought back to the night of
the Quentin Pierce gallery event. Chase was kidding himself if he
thought I was jealous. I recollected the look of hurt, resignation,
and humiliation on Daisy’s face when she saw Chase with me. I wish
I’d gone after her and convinced her that hooking up with her
boyfriend was the furthest thing from my mind, and that if she knew
what was good for her, she’d keep him away with a ten-foot pole.
But that would’ve been out of line, I suppose. Chase may have been
something of a pusher, with his raw sex appeal and cool sarcasm,
but it wasn’t my job to save girls from him. And I resented his
implication that I was one of those girls who needed to be
saved.
    I took a deep breath. Calm down, Annie.
You came here for his help—nothing more. Perhaps if I made it
strictly business, Chase would be willing to show me the ropes. It
was a big if , but stranger things could happen.
    I looked at the piece Chase was making. Just
like the last one I’d seen, it was breathtaking. A panoramic splash
of peacock feathers, dragonflies, flowers, pyramids, stars and
planets, fairies, and mythical beasts burst out from the single
image of a young girl with dreadlocks and baggy clothes, eyes
closed and cherubic face smiling sweetly as she covered her
headphones with her hands, as if she were drinking in the music.
The piece was beautiful and