JULIA
The silence was unbearable.
I focused on the canvas.
“Julia,” Evan said, his voice cutting through the silence.
Why was he trying to strike a conversation once again?
I didn’t look up. “What?”
He paused for a moment, carefully choosing his words. “You’re not thinking of me, right?”
My pencil stopped mid-stroke. Slowly, I lifted my head, narrowing my eyes at him. “What kind of question is that?” I asked in an incredulous voice.
He leaned back slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just answer the question.”
I rolled my eyes, my tone sharp. “No, I’m not thinking of you.”
Who was I kidding?
I’d thought about him in every stupid way possible. In the mornings, when I woke up to cold sheets, I wondered if he still slept sprawled out, stealing all the blanket
