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“Am I that transparent?”

“To other people? No, probably not You’ve grown to have one hell of a poker face when you’re in curator mode”

“But to you?” I ask, and when another rush of cool air breezes past us, I shiver

“Poker face or not, I can tell” He winks, tucking me closer to his side

We stay silent for another block, until Luke pops the quiet bubble with one hell of a question “Why haven’t you been painting?”

“I don’t know” My eyesmy stiletto-covered feet tip-tap across the dauess I just haven’t had time”

“I don’t think that’s why” I can feel his eyes onat me But I refuse to make eye contact The whole source of this line of conversation is highlighted with shauilt and confusion “And I know it’s been over a year since you last painted anything”

That grabs my attention I look up and meet his eyes “How do you know that?”

Luke just smiles, a tender little curve of his lips “Because I know you,” he says, si you did was the one of your nant with Kate”

He’s right The last painting I did was based on a candid photo ofwith her hands on her rounded belly, and E hers

Sadly, I haven’t painted anything else since

“I used to love going into your spare bedroos you’d created,” he coh to hear over the street traffic “But…it’s been a long ti new”

I don’t knohat to say to that How can I add to the conversation when I don’t understand itStopped sketching Just…stopped

Because you don’t think you’re good enough

A few moments later, we come to a stop at a crosswalk, but Luke doesn’t lead us across the street Instead, he asks, “Do you feel like going on an adventure?”

I tilt my head to the side “What kind of adventure?”

“One that will not keep us out in the cold”

“Okay…?”

“You in?” he asks, and I shrug one casual shoulder

“Sure I’m in”

“Stay right here,” he instructs and nods toward the Duane Reade just behind us It’s basically New York’s version of a Walgreens or CVS “I have to run in and grab so”