Page 58 of Finding New Dreams

Her eyes lit up. “I know! If I win, you have to lead Mrs. Q’s paint class on Wednesday.”

Inwardly, I groaned. Mrs. Q had stopped by the other day to make the final arrangements for bringing in her summer class. Of course, she’d waxed poetic to Rose about me and my art and how excited she was that I’d be there. She’d even gotten a little misty-eyed over it, saying something odd, like her “teaching had come full circle.”

And Rose had all but twirled with excitement.

To be honest, if she had, I might’ve done whatever she asked right then and there. This woman had me wrapped around her pinky finger, and she didn’t even know it.

“Flynn?” She laid a hand on my arm, immediately drawing my attention back.

“Fine,” I grunted. I flicked a glance at Gina, who was idly tapping on her phone, probably listening to every word. But that didn’t stop me.

I leaned closer to Rose. “If I win, I get to lead an art class of my choosing.”

Rose’s eyes darted between mine. “Which one?”

Desire, ravenous yet thrilling, raced through my veins as I whispered in her ear. “One of my own invention. Just you and me.”

She swallowed and released a quivering sigh. But then she squared her shoulders and gave me a determined look. “Agreed.”

I grinned. Oh, I was winning this for sure.

Gina put away her phone, and the three of us talked until Rose and I got to the head of the line again.

The teen handed us three axes each and stepped out of the way. I tipped my chin at Rose to indicate she go first.

Her first axe bit into the outermost ring of the target. She smiled at me and jutted her little chin in imitation of me. “Your turn.”

Clenching my fingers around the smooth axe handle, I eyed the target. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I lifted the axe and flung it. Gina cheered when it landed a little closer to the bullseye than Rose’s.

Rose glared playfully at her friend. “Hey, whose side are you on?”

Gina shrugged. “I just really like the sound of that art class Flynn was talking about.”

Rose’s cheeks pinked, but I felt no hint of embarrassment—or surprise, for that matter. I knew she’d been listening.

“Fine.” Rose threw her shoulders back and held her head high. She eyeballed the target with grim determination and landed her next axe just outside the bullseye.

Grinning, she swept a curtsy in my direction. “I think I’ll sit in on your class with Mrs. Q and her kids. Watching your every move.”

I smirked, twirling an axe in my hand. Smug was a good look on her—playful, flirtatious. “Hmm, that’s interesting. I think that when you are my student, you’ll have to call me ‘sir’ or ‘art genius.’”

She laughed, but went silent when my next axe landed on the edge of the bullseye.

Gina made an “ooo” sound, along with a few of the people watching from the line.

Picking up her last axe, Rose narrowed her eyes at me, her lips twisted in thought. It reminded me of the look she gave me just before she won our first bet.

I almost knew what would happen before it did.

Rose heaved the axe, and it hit dead-center in the bullseye. People shouted and clapped—including Gina, despite the sympathetic look she shot me.

I picked up the last axe. I could still win if I also hit a dead-center bullseye. And I wanted to win…but so did she. Clearly. Why was it so important to her that I lead Mrs. Q’s class? Or was she simply that averse to having a private class with me?

I didn’t hate the idea of leading Mrs. Q’s class, but it made me nervous. I’d always been the student, not the teacher. Obviously, teaching Rose didn’t scare me because I planned to do more than just paint with her. But Mrs. Q and her students would have expectations.

And so much of my life pointed to the fact that I didn’t do well with expectations.

“Go already!” someone shouted from the line. A few people laughed.

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