DAISY
The scent of paint lingers in the air as I wipe my hands on the front of my apron, half-listening to our instructor drone on about form and depth. Painting and Drawing class has never been the most exciting of my electives, but it’s a peaceful kind of boring. Predictable. I like that.
That is until the door creaks open, and chaos walks in wearing black.
Zeus McAllister.
Tall, intimidating, every bit as broody and frustrating as I remember him. My heart skips a beat, and I immediately want to punch it for reacting at all.
Why is he here?
The instructor straightens, his face lighting up in a way that makes me even more suspicious. “Ah, Mr. McAllister. We’re honored. Please, take a seat.”
Honored? Really?
My eyes scan the room. All the seats are taken. Except one.
The one next
