Good Game (The System, #1) (39)

“Well, it’s five to eight.”

I roll my eyes at Dee. Always one to be punctual.

“Which means, he still has five minutes to get here.”

“Well, if he isn’t here in five minutes, I’m deducting five points from my assessment of him.”

“If I’m five minutes early, do I gain five points?” I spin on my heels, almost tipping over, at the sound of Aleks’ voice. I’m immediately greeted by a bouquet of purple irises. Aleks holds them out toward me with a warm smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” I take the flowers from his hands, sniffing their sweet scent. They’re stunning. I don’t think I’ve ever been given irises before, but they have now become my favorite flower.

I hand the bouquet to Deanna before launching myself at Aleks to give him a giant hug. His arms squeeze me back, and I sink into him. It’s odd how comforting his presence is…it’s like a missing piece clicking into place. Even though we call all the time and text every day, this is the first time I’ve seen him since our date.

Aleks releases me, and his hungry gaze rakes over my figure.

“You look stunning. Just as much a piece of art as the rest of the room.”

“Says the man who walked in here looking like a complete snack.”

Seriously. I don’t know how he keeps getting hotter and hotter every time I see him. Aleksander in an all-black suit is delicious.

Deanna not so subtly coughs.

“Aleks, this is my best friend, Deanna.”

He holds out his hand to her. “Pleasure to meet you.”

She shakes it, her eyes slowly assessing him. It feels like minutes pass even though it’s only mere seconds. Finally, her award-winning smile flashes out.

“I approve,” she declares. “And you do get an extra five points. But for the flowers.”

Aleks laughs at her, and the tightness in my shoulders eases. It was one thing to go on a date with him to the coffee shop and ride around on his bike. It’s another to bring him into my world. Seeing him not only with Deanna but also surrounded by art…it’s special. I’m still worried about letting him see such a vulnerable part of myself so early on. But if I learned anything from my mistakes with Chase, it’s that it is important that I invest my time in someone who accepts every part of me no matter what. If he didn’t get along with Dee or hated being at the exhibition, it would show me now that I should back off before my heart gets any more invested.

“So, where’s your piece? I’m dying to see it.” Aleks loops his arm around my waist and pulls me into him.

“It’s over there.” I point to the growing crowd of people. I’m still shocked by how much attention it is getting. I’ve done exhibitions and shows before where people have fawned over my art but never to this level. I can’t tell whether it’s me or the fact that this is Caleb’s gallery.

“Do you want me to go see it myself, or do you want to join me?”

It’s a kind question. Depending on the piece, I don’t always want to be there. I feel like my presence can hinder a person’s experience. But I need to see Aleks’ reaction even though the butterflies in my stomach are getting restless.

“I’ll take you over.”

“And I’ll put your flowers somewhere safe.” Deanna nods at us before dipping into the crowd and disappearing.

I lead Aleks over to the centerpiece, weaving us through the group of people until we are in the front. “It’s called The Game.” I watch him from the corner of my eye. Analyzing every twitch as he looks up at the darkness before him.

Aleks’ arm drops from my waist and his mouth parts. I see his brows furrow before he takes a step forward, standing as close as he can get to the piece. He says nothing. The butterflies are beginning to wage an all-out war inside me. I think they might be eating each other. I yearn to stand next to him, but I let him be. Whatever the painting is telling him, it’s his to feel. I don’t want to interrupt.

When several minutes pass, I begin to worry. The butterflies are basically exploding inside me now. Screw it. I reach forward and tug on his elbow before taking a step to meet him.

He jerks at the contact with a sharp breath. When he looks down at me, all I see is a barrage of emotions swimming across his emerald eyes. There are too many to pinpoint exactly what he is feeling.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just got into my head. It’s an amazing piece, Stevie. It just…” he trails off. “It just took me by surprise.”

“I understand that. Painting it took me by surprise. The piece practically yelled at me to be painted. I stood in my room for eleven hours straight from start to finish.”

“Seriously?”

“Mhm,” I hum.

“What does it mean?”

“That depends. What does it mean to you?” I never tell anyone what a piece means to me first. Everyone has their own interpretation. What a painting means today could mean something entirely different a year from now. It all depends on where you are in life as to what message it will give you. Sure, there are literal ways to interpret a piece. But at the heart of it, it’s everchanging.

“Breaking point.” Aleks’ voice is soft.

“What?”

“The piece, it represents a person’s breaking point.”