That One Time a Serial Killer Crashed My Date #2
My mouth drops open as whipped cream slips off my nose and onto my lower lip. I blame human instinct for what happens next because I can’t help myself from snatching the canister off him and firing it like it’s silly string.
Lines of whipped cream stick to his shirt like abstract art. Most of it got on his T-shirt but some hit his open jacket and the cream slides off the black leather.
He looks down at the mess, like he can’t quite believe I just did that, and laughter bubbles in my chest.
Flynn smirks at me. “Oh, you are in so much trouble.”
He takes my hot chocolate, placing it on the shelf, before lunging for the can of whipped cream.
I squeal and dodge backwards, but Flynn’s long arm snags my waist, and he drags me back in towards him, anchoring my back to his front as he fights to reclaim the canister.
“No, no, no.”
“If you’re going to misbehave, Lilac, you’ve got to be prepared for the consequences.”
“You started it!” I tighten my grip on the cream, but Flynn manages to grab my wrist, squeezing until my hold slips. He catches the can and I wriggle in his arms.
“Okay, okay! I’ll be good,” I swear.
“I think it’s a little late for that, don’t you?” My T-shirt somehow rose up in the struggle and Flynn’s thumb brushes my bare stomach. His touch stills me to my core. All I can feel is his hand on my skin. Fingers splayed. His pinkie brushing the waistband of my jeans.
“I—” The door handle twists.
I whip my head round, staring at the knob as it jiggles. “Uh Flynn…” I say, my voice pitching high in panic.
“Shh, it’s alright.”
He lets go of me and reaches over to turn off the light. We’re plunged into darkness and the sound of the key turning in the lock is deafening.
I’m fast discovering that my reaction to danger bypasses the whole flight or fight thing and goes straight to freeze. My feet are rooted to the spot, but then Flynn is bundling me towards the back of the storeroom and behind a metal shelving unit.
We squeeze in between the wall and the boxes stacked on the shelves. There’s barely any room and I’m breathing so hard my chest presses against Flynn’s with every breath.
The door cracks open and I tense as light from the shop falls into the room. We’re hidden but there are gaps between the boxes and if the barista looks too hard this way, we’re screwed.
I watch through a sliver of space in the shelves as she goes up on tiptoes to reach a tin of coffee beans. That’s when I spot the hot chocolate cups we left on the shelf. My eyes widen and I suck in a sharp breath.
Flynn’s hand flies to my mouth. He presses his palm over my lips and just like that, being caught by the barista is the last thing on my mind.
Flynn’s hips press into mine and this close I can make out a tiny scar on his jawline.
His palm is warm against my mouth, and the firm pressure is doing things to me.
I squirm, shifting against him, and Flynn’s powder blue eyes darken. He squeezes my hip in warning and I stop moving.
On the other side of the shelf, the barista moves away and heads back to the door. It closes behind her and we’re plunged into darkness once more. Neither of us move.
It takes a second for my eyes to adjust but when they do Flynn’s hooded gaze shrouds me.
He takes his hand off my mouth, trailing it down till his palm rests against my collarbone, ever so loosely circling my neck.
My mouth has gone dry. I wet my lips and Flynn groans.
“Lilac…” He dips his head, his lips a whisper away.
My heart thunders because I’m about to break my rule.
I’m about to let him kiss me. Except unlike Tommy, Flynn doesn’t take what he hasn’t been given.
He keeps his lips a breath away, waiting for me to close the distance, and god help me because I’m going to. “You’re killing me here,” he murmurs.
The word “killing” snaps me out of it. I jerk my head to the side and push at his chest. It does nothing.
Flynn’s hand slips from my collar to the nape of my neck. He runs his thumb over the baby hairs there and I fight off a shiver.
“I won’t hurt you, Lilac.”
I peer back up at him. “But you hurt others. You kill them.”
He doesn’t try to deny it, just dips his head in acknowledgment.
My heart fractures. I cannot let myself feel things for this man. “I want to go now.”
For a second I think I see a flicker of emotion in his eyes but then he steps back and I squeeze past him out into the main storage area. I draw in a breath, my lungs working again now I’m not so close to him.
He follows me out, the whipped cream smudged across his shirt. I’d forgotten about that. It looks far too much like something else and despite everything a tired laugh slips out.
“You look ridiculous,” I say, eyeing the way his T-shirt clings to his chest.
His eyebrow quirks. “You should see your back.” He walks by, stopping at my shoulder as he passes and dipping his head till his lips graze my ear. “It’s giving me terrible ideas.”
My cheeks burn and I try really hard not to like the slight smirk on Flynn’s lips as he picks up my drink. He gives me the cup then takes my hand like we didn’t just talk about his somewhat murderous hobby.
“How exactly are we getting out of here?” I ask, for some reason not pulling my hand back.
“Like this,” he says. Then he twists the doorknob and strolls out into the café, tugging me along behind him.
The barista looks up from behind the counter, eyes wide. “Hey, you can’t—” she cuts off when Flynn tucks a hundred-dollar bill in the tip jar.
He grins like a schoolboy at the stunned barista and lays on a thick southern accent. “Have a great day now y’all.”
We carry on out the front door and start down the street. I turn to Flynn. “Y’all?”
He brings his hand to his chest. “Oh, bless your heart, ain’t you never heard of good southern manners, little lady?”
I hold my laugh back, pressing my lips together and shaking my head at him.
Flynn nudges his elbow into my side. “What’s that look?”
I shake my head again and study the chewing gum on the sidewalk. “You’re just… funnier than I expected.”
Flynn shrugs. “Side effect of being a small kid.”
I glance back up at him. All six foot something of him. “I can’t imagine you ever being little.”
“Yeah, well, I drink the blood of my victims. Good nutrients.”
I stumble a step and Flynn squeezes my hand. “Kidding, Lilac. Kidding.”
“I know,” I mutter, my skin heating in the cold air.
We keep walking a little longer, my hand still tucked in Flynn’s. I lose track of time until he stops.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
He nods at the high rise building ahead of us. The one housing the dispatch center where I work.
“Oh.” Far too late for my conscience, I extract my hand from his. At this point I’m beyond being surprised that he knows where I work but an awkwardness crawls into my bones. I take a sip of the hot chocolate.
Flynn catches his smile, his eyes twinkling.
“What?” I ask.
He just reaches out, holding his hand palm up for a second before slowly bringing it to my face. I hold dead still as he sweeps his thumb over the dip above my lips, coming away with a small blob of whipped cream.
“Oh,” I say again, because clearly my brain has stopped functioning.
Then Flynn brings his thumb to his mouth and licks off the cream and my body taps out too.
If it wasn’t thirty-five degrees out, I think I would be a puddle on the sidewalk right now.
“Have a good rest of your shift. Go straight home after.”
“Yeah, you too.” My face squirms. “I mean, thank you for the hot chocolate.”
“You’re welcome, Lilac.”
I nod at him, it’s all I can do because my body and brain are no longer connected.
Flynn lifts his chin towards the building, and my feet finally move.
I’m halfway to the revolving doors when I look back and find Flynn watching me. He tracks me all the way, not leaving until I’m safely inside. I know technically what he’s doing is stalking but I don’t feel violated. I feel cared for.
The elevator hums on the way up and I lean back against the mirrored walls trying to process everything that just happened. Flynn almost kissed me and I think I wanted him to.
My phone pings.
Wright
How’d it go?
I stare at the screen, the hot chocolate warm in my hand. My stomach still tingling from his touch. I type out a message.
Hazel
I think I just accidentally had a date with a serial killer.