Chapter 25 Tore's taste in art was nothing like I'd expected. I pictured him being into minimalism, like Donald Judd's clean, simple lines in primary colors and subtle restraint. This, though? This was something else entirely. Maria Petridis made sprawling, intricate pieces on brushed aluminum. Tonight's show was titled Glitch Cathedral. Each work depicted vintage technology, broken down, in haunting disrepair. It made sense Tore would be drawn to her style. As we stood in front of each piece and he quietly explained the meaning behind the pixelated spires and digital skies, I felt the pull too. "It's sad, isn't it?" I murmured, mostly to myself. One piece showed the ghostly outline of a disintegrated joystick, nearly lost in cascading strings of code was kind of...mournful. Tore had heard and swiveled to face me. "It is. It's a depiction of loss. History being rewritten so completely, it disappears. In its time, this technology was revered. Now, it's something we look back on and laugh at." "Like it's quaint." "Exactly." He cupped the sides of my neck with both hands. "You see it." "I do." I wrapped my fingers around his wrists, rubbing his fluttering pulse. "Do you have Maria's work in your house?" "Not yet, but I have one in my office. I'll show you this week when you come to Nox." He drew a line along my jaw with his thumb, slow and thoughtful. "I want this one." "I think that's a very good choice. It's my favorite too." He touched his lips to mine, humming as he did it. "Is there one that speaks to you? If there is, I would love to buy it for you." He meant it. I heard the sincerity in his offer and the honesty in his eyes. And while I had no idea how much one of these pieces cost, I knew it was far outside my price range-and much more than I could accept as a gift. At least, not right now, when we were still new. Down the line, if we worked out, I would have no trouble with him being as generous as he wanted. I might've been proud, but I wasn't stupid. I liked fancy things as much as the next girl. "Thank you, Tore. I love her work, but I can't picture any of it hanging in my little house. This is your speed." He nodded. "Next time, we'll find a gallery with art that speaks to you. I'd love to know what that looks like." "It's a deal." He ventured off to find the art dealer while I strolled along, looking at everything again. It really felt like I was walking through Tore's mind. There was no chaos here, only pattern and structure. It was beautiful, in a precise, obsessive way. I liked it. Very much. We were late to dinner. I thought Tore might have been anxious about it, but he strolled beside me, completely unbothered, our hands twined between us like we had all the time in the world. Undoubtedly rude, but I was taking my cues from him. If he wasn't worried, I wasn't either. "Is Sam going to be pissed?" He chuffed a dry laugh. "He's already texted me seven times." "Wonderful. I'm looking forward to spending time with a grumpy Sam." "Don't worry about him. He's in public. He'll be on his best behavior. Image is incredibly important to him. He'll only let his displeasure with me loose when we're alone." I didn't like the sound of that. "Does he do that often?" He sighed. "Lately, yes. We're in the midst of a fundamental disagreement over the direction we take Nox, and it seems we're at odds more than we're in alignment, which is frustrating. It's been...tense." "Don't you have the final say?" "Technically. Sam owns a stake in Nox and is the COO, so his opinion matters, but I built Nox and have the final say." His fingers flexed around mine. "The problem is I'd set a precedence of acquiescence at the beginning of our friendship, and now that I'm saying no, he's finding it difficult to handle." "You met in college, right?" "Yes. My senior year. We were paired as roommates, and he'd made it his mission to make me cool." He smiled faintly. "I'm not sure it worked, but he gave it an honest try." "How exactly?" "You know, the typical things. Sent me to his barber-which had been needed and appreciated-helped me upgrade my wardrobe, dragged me to the gym. All good things. Oh, and he started calling me Tore." "Wait, what?" I pressed on his chest. "What do you mean?" "My full name is Salvatore. Everyone called me that or Sal my whole life. Sam said Sal sounded like an eighty-year-old man, so he switched it up to Tore." I blinked at him. "He...changed your name?" He shrugged. Like it wasn't completely crazy. Like it was no big deal. "It's a nickname, and I've had it for a long time. I'm used to it now. My father would never call me that, but everyone else does." My mind was on the verge of exploding. Sam hadn't given me the best vibes the handful of times we'd met, but right then and there, I decided I did not like him at all. What kind of person had the audacity to tell someone-their friend-their name was no good? Red flags were waving all over the place. "I don't like this story." He laughed. "You don't have to be angry on my behalf, Bea. Sam and I have plenty of other issues, but that isn't one of them." "Fine. It'll be an issue between Sam and me, then." He stopped walking and pulled me into his arms, holding me close, one hand cupping my nape, the other splayed on my lower back. Dipping down, his lips covered mine in a slow, sweet kiss. My toes curled in my shoes, and my heart leaped into my throat as he deepened our connection, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. My fingers fisted his shirt, clutching him to steady myself so I didn't float away. That was how this man made me feel. Like a feather, taking flight with the whim of his breeze. Light and buoyant, untethered from responsibilities and the worries weighing me down. He smiled against my lips. "You don't have to protect me. I'm good." "But I think I want to." I blinked away the haziness in my eyes. "Wouldn't you be pissed if some chick made me call myself Trice?" His laugh rolled out like silk, smooth and easy. "Fair point. And as much as I love that you want to go to bat for me, I'd rather you just stand by my side and in my arms. Can you be okay with that?" "Fine," I huffed, then kissed him hard and fast. "It's hard to say no to you." "Exactly as I planned." He laced our fingers together again and tugged me forward, our steps syncing as we turned the corner toward the restaurant. "Should we be worried about what we're walking into?" I asked, only half joking. "Possibly." He glanced over at me, his mouth twitching. "But we'll stick together." His reassurance warmed me from head to toe. Everything about tonight was new and outside my comfort zone, but with Tore next to me, it felt manageable. Like we were on the same side. As we reached the restaurant, I peeked through a window, catching sight of Sam already seated at the table with a few other people, glaring at his phone like it had murdered his family. I turned to Tore. "Ready?" His smile became soft. "To spend more time with you? Always." Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!