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rapidly in my chest. I associate drawing and art with many things, but most significantly, Ariel. Every time I get my head into a creative mindset, my heart goes with it.
     
     
    MORGAN
     
    I never should’ve sat down next to her, but once I saw her, I couldn’t help myself.
    I recognized her facial profile the moment I walked into the classroom from the few self-portraits I studied in her portfolio. So detailed, so emotional.
    I had only meant to introduce myself and get a few minutes alone with her to discuss the pieces in her portfolio. However, that plan derailed as soon as her friend sat down next to her.
    The moment I hear the sweet hum of her laughter, I’m even more intrigued than before. For someone who draws such passionate pieces, I assumed she’d be covered in black clothing, wear heavy eyeliner, and be plastered with a permanent scowl on her face. But she’s nothing like that at all. In fact, she’s the complete opposite.
    Her laughter is infectious. Her golden blonde hair lies in loose waves against her shoulders, and I can’t help but notice how tight her purple shirt hugs her breasts and waistline. I lower my eyes and smirk at the leopard print fuck-me heels she’s wearing with her dark skinny jeans.
    Not what I imagined at all.
    The moment I hear the girl next to her call me a hot piece of ass, I nearly choke on my tongue. She finally turns and we make eye contact, but it doesn’t last for long before her friend continues with her inappropriate string of comments. I smile and laugh in return at her antics.
    Aspen confesses that she’s thrilled about class and for some reason it makes me weirdly giddy inside.
    Fuck.
    Scratch that last part. I haven’t felt giddy in over five years, not since I’ve lived in this god-forsaken state.
    However, the tinge of panic doesn’t go unnoticed as I see Aspen’s expression as I stand up and walk to the front of the classroom. Her eyes go wide and cheeks flush pink. A small part of me feels guilty she’s so embarrassed, but I find it freaking adorable. Ellie’s whispering in her ear and Aspen looks like she’s about to die.
    I really should leave the poor girl alone. Clearly she’s not a social person, but I just can’t help myself.
    “Aspen Evans…” I call out because I want an excuse to look at her again. And hear her voice.
    That voice.
    It’s so small and smooth that I’m afraid she’d float up to the ceiling if her six-inch heels weren’t weighing her down. I hadn’t expected her to stand up, but she does. I should tell her we don’t have to be so formal in this class, but I can’t deny getting the opportunity to get a better look at her.
    Once introductions are over, I hand out the syllabus and repeat my typical mantra. Look over the syllabus carefully. Don’t skip my class. Don’t be a lazy participator.
    I make sure to look around at all the students so I don’t get caught staring at her. Although that’s where my eyes are directed since Ellie’s once again whispering over to Aspen.
    “Do you have a question, ladies?” I really don’t appreciate students talking when I’m talking, so I make sure I’m firm just so the rest of the class knows I’m not to be taken advantage of.
    Ellie’s quick-witted response takes me off guard, and I really have to fight to hide the smile that wants to spread wide across my face.
    I need a second to breathe, so I put the students in groups for their first exercise. I start numbering students off into groups of five, but when I come across Aspen’s seat, she’s gone. I look around and catch her just as she’s running out the door.
    I finish grouping everyone and hand out the worksheet I want them to start on. I wait a few minutes to see if she returns but worry I’ve embarrassed her. When she doesn’t return, I decide to go after her.
    I’m not exactly sure what I expected to see when I found Aspen, but it wasn’t this. I know an anxiety attack when I see one. I’ve experienced them