Page 176 of Before Dawn

Mikkel flashed me a wicked grin. “You ready to get your hands dirty, Red?”

I chuckled, catching his teasing tone. “In more ways than one.”

Sierra laughed. “That’s the spirit! Pottery is all about letting go and embracing the imperfections.”

Mikkel’s attempt at shaping a bowl turned into something resembling a lopsided muffin.

“I may have created a new art form,” he mused. “Good thing business is my strong suit.”

Sierra winked at him, which made something tighten in my stomach. I brushed it off, not wanting to ruin the moment over something so insignificant.

“Picasso had his blue period,” she said, “so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

The class wrapped up with Sierra guiding us through the final steps of finishing and glazing our pieces. By the end of the night, we each had something to take home—mine was a bowl, his… averyabstract vase.

“Thank you both for coming,” she said warmly as we gathered our work.

“Thank you for having us!” I exclaimed, my heart still buzzing from the experience.

With our pottery “masterpieces” packed up, we walked to the car, and Mikkel turned to me with a grin.

“Did you have fun?”

A mini squeal slipped out before I could stop it. “I loved it! I can’t wait for our next art class.” I paused, catching my breath. “Thank God it was just us three; I’d have been nervous with others.”

He smirked. “Figured. That’s why I rented the whole studio.”

My steps faltered. “Youwhat?”

Mikkel chuckled, lacing his fingers through mine. “I wanted tonight to be perfect for you, Red.”

A flurry of nerves swarmed me.

Still riding the high of his thoughtfulness, we stopped at a nearby Shake Shack for burgers and milkshakes, replaying the best parts of the night.

Then, just as I was about to take another sip of my shake, Mikkel spoke.

“Also,” he said, his voice steady, “I’ve never met the instructor before.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“Arnoldo recommended the studio,” he explained. “I secured the space, but that’s the first time I’ve ever seen her.”

I frowned slightly, confused. “I’m… not following.”

His honey-brown eyes flicked to mine. “When she winked at me, your grip tightened on the wheel, and you rolled your eyes.”

My breath hitched. “You saw that?”

His lips curled at the corner. “While you were looking at the wheel, I was looking atyou.” His voice dropped, deep and deliberate. “I’m always looking at you.But I wanted to address it because I know you’ll let it eat at you, and I don’t want that to happen.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. “Mikkel…”

He reached across the table, tucking a loc behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin.

“You don’t have to say anything, baby.” His voice softened. “I just need you to feel secure.”

The way he knew me, how he anticipated the things I wouldn’t even voice, left me undone.