Chapter Thirty-Four
Of course there’s an elevator scene, are you kidding me?
Will
“Will?” Ruby murmurs as we enter the elevator, leaving the sub-basement mailroom dwelling. We’ve just dropped off our stuffed animals for Brian to deliver for Secret Cupid.
Liam, luckiest man on earth, received me as his Cupid. I got him a milkshake cow frankencreation. It’s soft. It’s squishy. It’s darn stinking cute . He’s going to love it.
Ruby’s Cupid recipient is getting a smaller milkshake cow, mostly because the store had a buy-one-get-one deal going on and Ruby “doesn’t care about some stupid stuffed animal exchange. Get whatever won’t get me fired.” Julie from IT is going to be thrilled.
“Yeah, Rubble?” I ask, juggling the two boxes of Valentine cards I’m carrying in order to push the button for our floor. I nearly take an eye out in the process, and decide that letting them enjoy their ride from beside my feet is probably the safest option. I set them down, then turn to Ruby, who hasn’t answered.
She’s stood in her usual spot halfway between the buttons and the back of the elevator, clutching the safety railing for dear life. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, and a pretty blush has climbed up her neck. I blink, then look away.
Rule number one when it comes to giving Ruby space: no gazing.
Rule number one is hard .
But I’m committed to giving her space, something I have never once done in fifteen years. Someone somewhere said absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I’m not strong enough for absence. The best I can offer is three feet.
Three feet in her kitchen. Three feet on her living room floor. Three feet in this elevator, which teases me with proximity. The only time we’ve been closer in the past few days is in my car, where the scent of her cherry shampoo nearly breaks me every morning and evening as we make our commute to and from work.
I’m finding I quite hate the number three. A tragedy, as a prime has never done me wrong in the past. And yet, here we are. Enemies where once we were friends.
“Could you help me with my jacket?” Ruby asks, and my eyes jolt to her as panic spreads in my chest.
Help her? In close proximity?
Yes.
No.
Yes .
“What do you need help with?”
“Could you unbutton it?” She lifts her hand, which holds a to-go cup from Sweet and Salty, as well as her white cane. Her other hand stays steady on the rail along the elevator wall. “I’m running low on nimble fingers.”
“Sure!” I squawk, swallowing my panic. It’ll be fine. I’ll remain totally professional. My strong suit.
I approach her cautiously, like one might approach a hostile stray dog.
Or. Maybe not like that, because who would approach a hostile stray dog?
An idiot, that’s who.
Me.
Candy is code for idiot, after all.
My shaking hands reach up, starting at the top and working their way slowly down the row of rich, navy buttons. They contrast nicely against the pale blue of her peacoat, and I find myself fixating on the texture of the wool next to the shiny buttons I’m undoing.
Undoing.
Undressing.
Ruby.
I jerk my head as I undo the last button, forcibly shaking that thought right on out of it. When space time is over, she’s declared her undying love for me, and we’re off getting married and giving Roman nieces and nephews, I can have thoughts about undressing Ruby. Until then…
I take a big step back, regaining my three feet. “All done!” I declare.
She frowns. “Uh… could you maybe help me take it off?”
Oh.
Ha.
Right.
Yeah.
Taking it off.
Undoing.
Undressing.
Ruby.
“Sure!” I yelp. “No problem!”
I guess we’ll just throw my three feet into the sun, then. Toss it on Icarus’ back for the ride.
Ruby holds out her to-go tea cup and cane for me to take, then shrugs one half of her coat off of a bare, freckled shoulder.
“Where’s your suit jacket?” I choke.
Her freckles shrug, and she carefully switches hands on the safety rail before dropping the other half of her coat too. A second swath of speckled skin assaults me, testing the tenuous hold I have on my willpower.
Her coat falls to the floor, and she bends to grab it, squatting at my feet to gather it up.
There is not enough distance in the world.
“Rub-”
The elevator jolts, then grinds to a stop as the lights flicker, then go out, and we’re left in pitch darkness before dim emergency lights click on.
“You’re joking,” I say, incredulous.
“You’re joking,” Ruby echoes, eyes wide and lips twitching.
“Are you smiling ?”
She turns to me, mouth stretching in a disconcerting smile.
I have never seen so many of her teeth at once. My brain short-circuits at the sight of them.
“You have dimples ,” I groan. “I never even had a chance!” I fall back against the wall opposite her, tripping over the boxes of cards on the floor. I stare at her, amazed.
“You’re an oracle,” I accuse. “You can tell the future. You knew this elevator would break again.”