“You ruined my canvas.” It has to be him. I can’t think of anyone else who would be stupid enough to get in the middle of this bet, but when I accuse him, he just smiles at me.
“You really think that I need to stoop that low to win?” Before I can stop him, he walks to stand next to me, slowly letting his gaze slide across my canvas. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I almost break the silence, but I bite my lower lip to keep from talking.
“It probably wasn’t utter shit before someone ruined it.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel good?” Anger courses through my veins. “I was up all night working on it and this is what I have now!” Throwing my hand out, I gesture at it, but he’s unflappable.
Slowly, he turns his blue gaze on me. “Come with me, Abigail, and I’ll show you what a winner’s canvas looks like. You aren’t half bad, but you’re not good enough. You need something more in your work.” He grabs my hand and pulls me from my curtains, guiding me across the giant room to his corner.
As much as I wanted to peek in here last night, I knew that if I did, I would regret it. I didn’t want to know what he was painting. I didn’t want to know how much better than me he was.
When I don’t move, he sighs and reaches for the curtain, violently pulling it back. It flutters down to the floor, exposing an incredible painting.
“Oh,” I breathe, unable to stop myself.
It’s a portrait, and gorgeous, with bright colors that play across the girl’s face. She’s turned halfway away from a window, her stare serious and full of longing. I lift my hand but then drop it to my side. I can’t touch his work, no matter how I want to run my fingers across it. There’s just no way that he completed this this week.
“You’ve been working on it since before this week,” I accuse, turning to him. “That’s cheating.”
“Look again. You’ll see that I haven’t.” He sounds bored as he walks up to the canvas and I follow, needing to get a closer look.
He was right.
He hadn’t been working on it longer than just this week. That means that he’s damn near the most talented person in the building, except for Mr. Stanfield.
The reason that I know he’s telling the truth and that he didn’t cheat by using an existing painting is the girl.
She’s gorgeous. She looks light-hearted and happy, and he managed to perfectly capture her half-smile and the twinkle in her eye.
It’s me.
Chapter Six
“I think that we can both agree that my painting is better. Of course, if you’d prefer, we can get someone to come in and judge.” Quinn looks at me with an intense look on his face, but he doesn’t seem rushed. He actually seems to be really enjoying this.
There’s not anything for me to say, and he knows it. His painting has life and mine…well, even before someone ruined it, it wasn’t really anything special. His colors simply danced across his canvas, while on my painting they looked flat and uninspired.
I hate him for it. The rage I felt boils up inside of me and I clench my fists and grit my teeth. This is not how I wanted this bet to go. I was supposed to wipe the floor with him and earn the respect of Mr. Stanfield with one gorgeous painting.
Instead, I’m standing in front of the most incredible portrait that I’ve seen in a very long time. Even the way he applied the paint, with thick gobs and thin swipes, made my face come alive in ways that I couldn’t have imagined. As much as I don’t want him to know how incredible he is, I can’t help but lean closer for a better look.
“You can admit to my anytime that mine is better.” If only he would just shut up, then I could enjoy myself, but I know that he’s not going to back off, so I stand back up and turn to face him.
“It’s obvious that you had help. There’s no way that you painted this.” I know that it’s not true, and he knows that it’s not true, but I can’t think of anything else to say. I want to hurt him the way that I’ve been hurt.
He scoffs and crosses his arms across his chest, pinning me in place with a level look. “You’re kidding, right, Abigail? I told you that I have more skill in my pinkie than you do in your entire body, and now you’re just pissed because you can’t hide the fact that I’m better than you. I bet that it sucked having Mr. Stanfield rip apart your painting, didn’t it? You want to tell me about it? I’ve never had it happen.”
He looks so cocky and sure of himself that suddenly I know that I have to get out of there so I can breathe. Instead of answering him, I push past him, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist, squeezing it tight enough so that I can’t move.
“Did you forget about our bet?” There’s a threat in his voice, and it makes something low in my stomach twist. I don’t want to think about giving him my virginity, but any other time, under different circumstances…Quinn is hot, no doubt. But there’s no way that I want to sleep with him now. Not after I lost a bet.
Not after I know that I’m just a conquest to him, and nothing more.
“I didn’t forget.” Yanking my wrist, I try to pull away from him, but his grip is stronger than I would have thought it would be. I can feel my pulse pounding against his skin, and I bite my lower lip, trying not to concentrate on the way it feels to have his warm body pressed up against mine.
“Good. Because,
