Chapter 5 Wren
Chapter five
Wren
Iknow from finding the phone, who is under the desk, but is it weird to admit I know it’s her, from how her bite reminds me of a tiny feral rabbit?
Jerking back, I rip my finger from her mouth before slamming my palm on the desk directly above her head.
I kneel down, unable to hide the growing grin from my face as I find Robin curled in on herself, eyes wide like she’s shocked at what she just did.
“You little shit! Did you just bite me?” I tease, marveling at this woman who already has me on my toes.
I can't believe I fought so hard to not meet her for fifteen years, and I regret it immensely.
She lets out a weird noise, pushing past me to scramble out from her hiding spot.
“You’re going to give the household something to gossip about if you don't stop following me around.” I joke, landing the response I want because her brows furrow before she scowls at me.
Riling her up is going to be so fun.
“That doesn’t even make sense. I’m not following you.” Both hands find her hips as she glowers down at me, because I’m still crouched where she left me.
“That’s what they all say.” Casually shrugging, I finally stand.
“Yeah, I’m sure all the delusional ones do.”
“They definitely don’t bite me, Lovely.” I purr, taking a step forward which makes her take a step back.
Trying not to analyse that too much, I don’t continue forward, wanting her to have space so she can feel comfortable around me.
Her cheeks become rosy, but she tilts up her chin and defiance sparkles in her irises.
“I’m not sorry about that. I am sorry about eavesdropping. I was in here first, I just didn’t want to interrupt.”
“No, it’s ok. Trust me you weren’t interrupting anything. Sorry,” I scratch the back of my head, words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop myself. “I didn’t know she was going to be here this weekend, so I just freaked out a little. I don’t want to see her.”
She’s nodding before I’m even finished. “I feel sorry for you.”
Feigning shock, I place my palms over my heart, unable to stop showing her an easy smile, because it’s only for her. She makes me unable to stop myself from beaming. “Oh Robin, Love, words every man wants to hear.” I really like saying her name.
She just shrugs, walking over to the corner of the library where a snuggly love seat and two leather arm chairs sit. “I just know what she’s like. Also, not every woman's sole purpose is to whisper nice words to men with fragile egos.”
I should stop flirting and change the subject, so I do because there's something I really need to know. “Are you friends with Lily?”
Her eyebrows shoot up, the word yes slips from her mouth automatically, but then her lips purse into a thin line.
I feel like I’m soaking in every little reaction, staring too intensely as I try to work her out.
Moving to be close to her, I sit in a chair angled to face where she sits in one of the wingbacks.
I'm trying so hard to not roam over each part of her body, but I can't explain how it physically hurts to stop myself.
Have I ever felt this natural pull to another being?
I haven't. Before I know what I'm doing I’m staring at the light tan of her legs.
Just keep looking at her eyes only, you silly fuck.
“We grew up together, now we live next door to each other, in York. I don’t exactly hang out with her crowd.
” I nod, breaking out of the spell she surely has cast over me.
“I really like Mavis though, she’s so nice but I don’t want to rely on her as a buffer if I do go out.
So I just don’t. Not my scene.” She shrugs casually like it’s no big deal, causing a smirk to prowl back onto his lips.
The idea she’s not into the types of people I actively avoid makes me happy, for so many reasons.
“You don’t go out with Phoenix or Merle?”
She sits a little straighter. “I do. We do more meaningful things, instead of just getting sloshed. Things we like to do together, but never in London.”
“What’s classed as meaningful?” I’m digging shamelessly to get to know her better, because at this point, if she turns around and says she likes pottery all Patrick Swayze style, I’d do it with her.
“Probably nothing you’re into.” She defends, not giving me an answer and glowering at me.
“No seriously, tell me. What do you like to do?” I’m desperate for the crumbs of her life.
After a long pause where her cheeks flare pink, she answers. “We like to find events in the city to attend and classes. Wine nights, small gigs, book readings. We hang out at home, probably boring notions to someone like you.”
“Ouch. You need to stop being so mean to me or I’m going to end up falling head over heels for you.
” I can't help laughing, because I’ve completely caught her by surprise.
This girl can banter, but I think flirting is entirely new to her.
Quickly recovering, she rolls those gorgeous caramel eyes at me and sits back slumped in the chair.
“You’re an atrocious flirt. Let's not even try to unpack that sentence right now.”
“What can I say, Mummy issues.”
“Oh, so you want to do this right now? Ok. Well, same. I’m always told I’ll want to replicate the maternal bond with someone. Not in a give me all your attention kinda way. More obsessive longing that nothing ever lives up to. I think? Sorry I'm rambling. My therapist says a lot of shit.”
I’m captivated by her raw honesty. This woman has so many depths, I don’t think she even realises.
“I get that. My mum was, well she was just incredible. Raised me completely by herself. I’ve got her up on an untouchable pedestal.
” I think she picks up on the use of past terms, because like herself and Phin, I don’t have parents either.
“So you like mean women?”
Again, she makes me laugh so unexpectedly.
“Oh Sweetheart,” I lean further, realising at some point in our conversation she’s also done the same.
I’m a breath away, the scent of cinnamon and peaches enveloping me.
It hits me that she smells like Phoenix, like they share the exact same scent.
I’m instantly reminded of home, my mothers cinnamon treats and when she’d spend hours just feeding both of us on weekends.
I center myself, resisting the urge to close the space. I don't want to scare her off.
“I like women that don’t give me their attention so easily.
I can't help it.” Seconds drift into what feels like minutes, my heartbeat skipping beats like an out of sync drum beat, as we just sit staring into one another.
That's how it feels to be looked upon by her; like she’s encompassing my mind, digging in through my eyes in hopes to figure out whatever it is she’s looking for.
I know because I’m doing exactly the same.
Hoping for a tiny tell to reveal what she’s thinking.
I watch her intrigue in me blink away, shutting me out, posture stiffening as if she made her mind up about something.
The fear of rejection in me—like always—rears its ugly head and whispers that she probably deemed me not worthy of her effort.
Her brows pull together until a crease forms in between.
Before she can pull away first, I stand up, palms suddenly clammy and I can only blame feeling this on edge over this damn weekend.
Worrying about Phin and Corbin was getting to my head.
Overwhelmed with wanting to leave the room, I remember what I actually came in here for, before Willow followed me in.
I’d rather no one be with me whilst I hunt for it, so hopefully our conversation is done before she realises how much of a wreck I am.
Digging into my back pocket I produce the phone I’d found on the floor, presuming now it’s hers, by the way pink stains her face.
Robin’s eyes flutter with embarrassment as she looks to me and then to the phone, fixing her gaze on the little black device.
“You know you should probably put a case on this thing, if you’re going to be throwing it around.
” I tease, causing the cute blush to creep up her neck.
She still doesn’t say anything, but holds up her palm in hopes of a silent exchange.
I let out a low chuckle, tapping my index finger against it and giving her what she wants.
Teasing is fun, I really do get off on it, but only if the other person does too.
So far she’s batted back my banter—heck, she was even going tooth and nail at that guy who sat next to her when we all had lunch. Now, I don't want to push her.
Not even checking the screen as she stands and takes it from me using the tips of her fingers.
That action alone does something to my body because I instantly want to touch her, but it’s clear that’s not what she wants.
I’d love to run my fingers over hers, entwine our hands, feel how soft her skin is…
feel the electricity run through my veins like it just did when she was under the desk.
But I don't. My palm is left empty and I shove both hands into my pockets. Robin pats her hip for a pocket that doesn't exist because she's wearing a sundress with ditsy flowers all over it.
I can't keep the devilish smirk from dancing at the corner of my lip. Is she really not going to check her phone?
When I picked it up, the inner child in me took hold and seeing as it was already unlocked, I made the photo of myself her screensaver.
I mean, she clearly liked it, because she'd zoomed in on the white t-shirt sticking to my sculpted chest. I won't be modest, I've worked pretty hard to get myself in shape this year after a giant slump, being stuck on numerous tour buses.