Chapter 25
BlairSamson’s chocolate-brown eyes stared at me. The ever-there smirk twisted the left corner of his lip upward, and the wrinkles weren’t as pronounced. I folded my arms and stared at the painting of him, still incomplete, and allowed the anger to stream through me again.
The day he’d left, I’d regretted asking him to go. I’d missed him. And the day after? I’d discovered he’d f*****g thieved my sketchbook right out of my desk, which meant two things.
One, he’d seen the painting of himself, which was ultimate cringe fest 2017.
And two, he was a d**k.
The former revelation had been reinforced by the fact that he wouldn’t answer my damn calls! Or my messages. Or the voicemails I’d left him demanding he return my property.
I kicked the edge of my desk and stubbed my big toe fo
