From the Inside Out: The Compilation (Scorned, Jealousy, Dylan, Austin) by S. L. Scott

early, but we should probably go before I completely screw this up.”
    “You’re not screwing up, not at all.” The smile falls from my face and I lean my elbow on the bar, tilting my head, feeling lighter altogether. “You’re doing quite the opposite, in fact.”
    “You’re standards are too low, Ms. Weston.”
    “Eh,” I tease, “it’s fun to slum it every now and again.”
    “Ouch!” He chuckles, then adds, “Well, you’ve got my number. Feel free to call me the next time you want to slum it.”
    “I will.” The air turns. It’s been nice, manageable between us, fun. But now, I want to kiss him and that makes me doubt myself. I know he likes me, but in that way… or just in a conquer kind of way. The man is attractive, stunningly so. He can get women without a problem, and probably dates models. Though over drinks and from what I know of him from the past, he’s never come off in a way that would make me think he’s shallow, not at all. Quite the opposite actually; his relaxed nature eases my uptight personality and makes me want to stay with him longer.
    I wonder if he saw how my mind was warring inside because he says, “Before we go, we should talk about the painting since I’ve got your undivided attention.” He smiles, his calm contagious.
    “You can have my undivided attention anytime you want, but concerning the painting, I’m free on Friday.” I smirk, enjoying his flirtations. I run my finger around the rim of the glass, feeling a little flirty myself.
    “How can I persuade you to hand deliver it?”
    I look up, my walls coming down. “Dinner would be lovely.”
    “You’re lovely. Dinner it is. If you don’t mind, I could really use your keen eye to find the right spot to hang the Rusque.”
    “I’d be honored.”
    With his most bold move, he takes my hand in his, a foreign but very welcome touch. “I don’t cook, but I’m a damn good heater-upper.”
    I deserve someone good in my life. “I bet you are.”
    With a small smile in place, he asks, “I can order in or would you prefer to eat out?”
    “Order in and I’ll bring the wine.”
    “Sounds like a date.”
    “Yes, it does.”
    Bringing my hand to his mouth and placing the most gentle kiss on the top of it, I watch as his lips touch my skin. He then stands, encouraging me up. “I should really get going, even though I don’t want to. I have a meeting in the morning that I need to prepare for tonight.”
    “Of course. I’m sorry for keeping you.” I pull my hand back.
    “I didn’t mean it like that, Jules. I’m sorry. I like being here with you. I’d prefer to stay all night, but… I can’t.”
    “No, no. It’s alright. I have some things I should take care of tonight as well and we have Friday to look forward to.”
    He stands and with a big grin on his face, he confirms, “Yes, Friday.”
    With my hand still in his, I stand up, my body pressing against his strong one. In a whisper, I say, “Thank you. This was unexpected and fun. I’m glad I came.”
    “Thank you. I’m glad you did as well.” A shared few seconds between us and then he continues holding my hand as he leads me through the crowded bar and out to his car. “Please let me drop you off. I’d feel better seeing you safely home.”
    “I’m thinking the gallery if it’s not out of your way.”
    “You’re a workaholic, Ms. Weston.”
    “I have a feeling you’re familiar with that disease.”
    “Too familiar for my own liking. I need a real life again.” He looks at me as the door opens.
    “We all do, but I hope you find what you’re looking for.” I slide into the car.
    He gets in next to me and with a confident smile, says, “Things are starting to look up.”

 
     
     
    “I’M SORRY. I was foolish for walking out.”
    “Don’t, Brandon. Let’s just make up and move on.”
    “I shouldn’t have said those things to you, Jules.”
    I huff in annoyance. “You can say those things because you care about me. Friends