CHAPTER 19
Easton
If I hurry, I can make it across town before he gets home. Ripping my nitrile gloves from my last job off as I head into the office, I ignore how much that sounds like planning. I’m spontaneous. Always have been. Even spontaneous people do a little planning.
Tossing my gloves in the trash can, I call out to Wolf, where he’s updating our website on his computer.
“I’m going to head out for dinner. I’ll be back by seven.”
“ Seven? That’s a long dinner.”
Snorting, I ignore him and check my hair in the mirror on the wall. It’s starting to curl again the way it does after my hair gel has worn off for the day. I’m not running upstairs for more. Rinsing my hands in the sink in our private half-bath, I wipe them over my head to tame down my flyaways. There. Good enough.
Walking back into the office, I head to my desk and open my top drawer to find my breath spray. I give my tongue a spritz and then grab my can of deodorant, misting the underside of my arms underneath my shirt, trying to remember if I forgot anything.
I sense a presence in front of me and look up to find Wolf. His face looks like it does each time one of those commercials for women’s underwear pads plays on TV.
“Where are you going?”
“Dinner,” I say louder. Did he not hear me?
“For three hours? It’s not even four o’clock yet.”
Scoffing, I level him with a look. “It’s a Melissa-length dinner. You know, the kind you like to take every fucking day .”
Huffing, his face goes red. “I do not.”
Delusional. So delusional.
Snatching up the shopping bag on my desk, I head to the door, but something holds me up. Hey, watch it, I sign in his line of vision when I find him gripping the bag, prying it open to look inside.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks, pulling one of the puzzle boxes out of the bag.
“A chemistry set, clearly.”
Taking it from him, I stuff it back into the sack. Since when he did get all handsy?
“Are you going back to Aaron’s?”
“No, I joined a puzzle club. We’re ranked top in the state. I’ll give a shoutout to S I’m hunting for new matches.
The water from the faucet sluices over his fingers as he scrubs a glass hurriedly. It’s like he wants to get back to this ridiculous distraction I brought. He’s wearing jeans today, with a dress shirt tucked snugly into the waist underneath his black belt. An errant memory reminds me that the staff at Hampton used to have casual Fridays, so I’m guessing this was Aaron’s attempt at conforming to that ritual. Although I wouldn’t call a dress shirt casual, it’s typical Aaron. I don’t think the guy could look shabby if he tried, even if his dress shoes do look a bit worn. With his sleeves rolled up, I find myself studying the thin layer of hair on his forearms and the faint cords in his arms. Grabbing a dish towel, he dries the glass carefully. Gently. It’s strange how much enjoyment it brings me, watching the most mundane tasks and movements, watching him .
I’m so lost that he catches my gaze when he turns around. Glancing at my watch to not appear so obvious, I see that it’s six-thirty. My next appointment isn’t for another hour, but there’s no need to give Wolf any more reasons to gloat about me being gone so long or wear out my welcome here.
“I should get going. I have an appointment.”
“Oh.”
A giddy rush flutters through me at the sound of his disappointment. It was tacos and a puzzle, Aaron, not a Porsche .
“Well, thanks for all of this.” He smiles. “This was…nice.”
More flutters. It was tacos and a puzzle, Easton, not a date. Jesus, I need to leave.
Getting up, I start for the kitchen doorway but pause as Aaron cuts me off, moving past me. He walks me to his front door just like he did last time, all gentlemanly and shit. I don’t think I’ve ever been walked to the door unless it was to tell me to get the fuck out after I turned down a sleepover from a one-night stand.
“I’ll let you know if there’s a missing piece at the end,” he teases.
Shit. Why didn’t I think of that? I should have pocketed one just to fuck with him. Then I could have texted that I was holding it for ransom.
Oh my God. Go!
“Don’t start the dick without me,” I warn, because I have officially been infected by his dorkiness.
“Deal,” he laughs, opening the inside door.
And then… I just stand there for no goddamn reason like I don’t know what to do with myself because I can’t look away from him looking at me. I should grab the screen door handle and step outside, but I blame his face. It always looks like there’s something paramount on his lips that I need to stick around to hear.
I’m not the only one feeling the awkwardness. I can tell by the way his lips are parted. The next thing I know, he’s moving toward me. When his arms wrap around me in an innocent hug, I realize I’d been holding my breath like it was for something more. What the hell—did I actually want him to kiss me?
I’m hot-blooded. He’s a guy. Of course, I wouldn’t have been bent out of shape over it.
Except, this hug, just like the last one he gave me, makes me helpless in a way that doesn’t make me miserable. Is there such a thing as a comforting kind of helplessness?
Awkwardly, I give him a little squeeze so I don’t look like a mannequin. That soft chestnut hair of his is like feathers against my cheek. Everything about the unexpected embrace fits. I didn’t know that people could fit together like this without sex involved. It’s an oddly deeper connection than when I’ve had my dick deep inside someone. It has my entire body feeling heavy and sedated. Why do I have the urge to thank him?
Pulling back, he drops his arms, looking so content and it’s got me contemplating if we just created magic. A strange little laugh bubbles past my lips before I get my shit together and nod, booking it out the door.
Maybe Wolf was right—I do feel fucked up again, but not the way I was when I left Hampton Hills. This is more like ten shots on my birthday when I feel like the king of the world kind of fucked up. There must have been something in those tacos.