The Heart That's Meant to Love You

Chapter 13: Research

If only the morning after that strange encounter had been a weekday, but alas it was not. Naomi had no class to attend. No studies to focus on. No excuse to put the odd feeling of electricity out of her head. 

Her mother had warned her, once, about boys who made one feel alive. Stability and usefulness should outweigh that feeling, Ms. Rowe had announced. Rationality must make decisions, not fleeting emotions and flights of fancy. 

At the time, Naomi hadn't understood what her mother had been implying or why she had been saying it. Naomi had never found any boy truly attractive in an I want to be with him kind of way. She saw everyone as a pawn in the grand game she and her mother had set up so long ago. 

That had all been before she met him. Before his face, voice, and smile wouldn't leave her head. It didn't matter what kind of man he was. They didn't matter, his ulterior motives. Everyone had ulterior motives. This man had only managed to cast away annoying people and ensure Naomi got home safely. 

Had this been the kind of man her mother warned her about? 

Something felt off about him, but Naomi found she wanted to know more instead of wanting to flee. Would it kill her mother if Naomi searched out the truth behind this angelic cameraman? 

A small part of her said it would, but another part insisted she could keep the secret. After she learned his hidden things, Naomi would be satisfied and able to walk away. She had never had such an urge to discover more before. What if she regretted it later? 

She didn't have to see him to learn the basics. Naomi pulled up her phone's search engine and took a deep breath. Michele had provided his name. Naomi distinctly remembered it. Kieran Colburn. Her fingers typed the letters at the same time it came to her memory. 

His picture appeared, this one serious, dramatic. His dark eyes shone from the screen, piercing Naomi with the intensity of his stare. 

Kieran Colburn, an up-and-coming photographer based mostly in the fashion industry. Few knew anything about his background, which lent to the air of mystery he so evidently possessed. A series of pictures including Kieran with various women brought about Naomi's suspicion again. Girlfriends? Or publicity stunts?

"Naomi, it's time to eat." Her mother's voice, from just beyond the door. 

Naomi snapped her screen closed. 

"I'll be right there!" Naomi called back. 

Though she knew her mother couldn't see her, it felt like she had done something terrible behind her mother's back. Leaving evidence would land Naomi on Guilt-Trip Junction faster than she could apologize. 

Thinking on her feet, Naomi opened the phone screen again and went into her search history. Delete. One simple button that Naomi didn't hesitate to press. Once she figured out why she wanted to know about him so much, then Naomi would tell her mother about the whole ordeal. Not a moment before. 

Her mother would undoubtedly shut her down before she even began. Heaven forbid that Naomi show interest in anything other than her studies. 

Knowing that she would be scolded if she didn't arrive in a timely manner, Naomi shoved her phone into her pocket and rose from her bed. It would be alright. Her mother couldn't possibly know what Naomi had been up to alone in her room. If she acted natural, nothing out of the ordinary would happen. 

Those who insisted that thrill existed within risk had obviously never felt anxiety. 

Naomi knew, logically, that her mother couldn't possibly know about Naomi's interest in Kieran Colburn. Irrationally, she feared that the photographer in question would become a part of their clipped conversation. 

Which was the reason Naomi walked a little slower to reach the dining table. The reason she sat a little straighter, hyper-aware of her posture. 

Ms. Rowe didn't seem to notice one way or another. Strange, but a welcome reprieve. Perhaps she had finally realized that Naomi had grown up. That as a responsible adult, Naomi didn't need constant supervision. 

Naomi should have known that her hypotheses couldn't be true. 

"I spoke with your academic advisor this morning."

On a Sunday? He must have loved that. Naomi kept the snarky reply to herself. No use arguing over something like that when she would lose, anyway. Aloud, she merely uttered two words. "Oh, really?" 

"He agrees with me that you should have joined the debate team. It's better for your resume later." 

Naomi refrained from rolling her eyes or sighing. Neither would get her anywhere with her mother. "We discussed this in detail before I joined the art class. It also doesn't look good on a resume to have only achievements in one specific area." 

"It's not too late to join the debate team, you know." 

"Maybe not, but I will not join it." Naomi stabbed a utensil at her food, a little too forcefully, but her mother wouldn't have noticed even if she had been watching. She focused too fully on her own agenda. 

"I signed you up for late interviews. You're excellent, I'm sure the debate team will accept you." 

Naomi shoved a piece of bread into her mouth and dropped her utensil beside her plate. "I'm finished."

"We are not finished here, Naomi."

"This discussion ended a month ago." Naomi rose from her seat. She hated arguing with her mother, but painting class was one thing she refused to give up. She had fought too hard for it. 

"Your interview is tomorrow at eleven. Attend it." 

Naomi didn't utter a word. If she refused, her mother would undoubtedly fly into a rage. If she agreed, she would be required to give up her only bright spot: art. Neither option appealed to her, so Naomi walked away. 

The bedroom door shut behind her with a deceptively quiet click. If she had her way, Naomi would have slammed it. She had learned long ago not to show her anger. Training had a way of kicking in when emotions ran too high. 

Even her mother's conniving ways couldn't stop Naomi now. She wanted—no, needed—to know more. What kind of spell had he cast to cause such fluttering in her stomach? Was this what it felt like when one had a crush?

Naomi breathed in deep, until she could contain no more air, then let it all out in a silent stream of peaceful centering. Her fingers, unbidden, dug her phone from her pocket. Opened the search bar. Typed his name one last time. 

Kieran Colburn.