15. Elsie
Fifteen
Elsie
I can't believe I'm about to say this after one date.
One.
Single.
Very hot.
Date.
But...
I think I'm in love.
I actually stop walking for a second just to let the thought settle.
Yep.
Still there.
Still sounds completely insane.
Is it crazy?
Most likely.
If someone else told me they'd fallen in love after spending one afternoon with a man, I'd probably smile, nod politely, and recommend they drink some water and sleep on it.
But...
They aren’t me. And I know myself.
I'm thirty-four years old.
I've lived enough life to know the difference between excitement and peace.
I've had high-pressure jobs where every minute of every day was scheduled.
I've flown across the country more times than I can count.
I've met hundreds of people.
I've dated.
A lot.
Some were nice.
Some were funny.
Some were handsome.
One even checked every single box on paper.
None of them...
Not one...
Ever made me feel lit up from the inside the way Graham does.
He doesn't make me feel nervous about saying the wrong thing.
He makes me want to tell him everything.
He listens.
Actually listens.
Not the kind where someone is just waiting for their turn to talk.
He remembers little things.
He laughs at my terrible jokes.
He feeds me sushi.
He lets me steal bites off his plate without pretending to be annoyed.
He looks at me like I'm the only woman in the world.
And he fucks like a god.
My cheeks warm just thinking about it.
The chemistry between us?
Holy.
Fucking.
Wow.
I don't even have words for it.
The man somehow seems to know exactly what I need before I do.
It's like he anticipates every emotion, every hesitation, every moment I need reassurance.
The physical connection is...
Well.
Let's just say it's impossible to ignore.
Maybe I'm just completely, hopelessly dazzled.
Cock-struck.
The thought makes me snort out loud.
“Oh my God, Elsie.”
I clap a hand over my mouth and glance around to make sure no one heard me talking to myself.
Good.
Still alone.
I shake my head.
“No.”
I don't think that's it.
Because if it were only that...
I wouldn't miss talking to him after just minutes apart.
I wouldn’t still be replaying lunch.
The arboretum.
The way he stopped every single time I wanted to look at another flower or mushroom.
How he never once acted bored.
Not once.
He wanted to know why I loved old spell books.
He asked about Moon & Mug like it mattered.
Like I mattered.
And I want more.
More conversations.
More laughs.
More afternoons that somehow disappear before I notice the time.
More stolen smiles from across a table.
More road trips with the windows down.
More forehead kisses.
More Graham.
I just want more.
I sigh.
Yeah.
I'm in love.
It's fast.
Love at first sight.
It's reckless.
It's probably the dumbest thing I've ever admitted to myself.
But then again...
I've never exactly been known for doing things halfway.
I quit a six-figure corporate career because a self-help book in an airport told me life was too short.
Opening Moon & Mug probably sounded crazy to everyone I knew.
Instead, I think it’s the best decision of my life.
Maybe love is like that too.
Maybe the best things aren't always the ones you spend years planning.
Maybe sometimes...
You just know.
A new thought suddenly pops into my head.
“Oh.”
I fish my phone out of my purse.
“I should probably Google him.”
I mean...
He did casually mention winning a televised singing competition.
How did I let that little detail slide?
I unlock my phone, type his name into the search bar, then hesitate with my thumb hovering over the screen.
A laugh escapes me.
“This is ridiculous.”
I hit search anyway.
Whatever comes up...
However famous he actually is...
It won't change anything.
Because the truth is...
My mind's already made up.
Celebrity.
Musician.
Giant Viking of a man with the prettiest forest green eyes I've ever seen.
None of that changes how I feel.
I already know my heart.
And...
God help me...
I think it's his.
I'm so deep into my search that I barely notice I've pushed open the restroom door.
My thumb scrolls across the screen.
Images.
Articles.
Concert photos.
Magazine interviews.
Maybe that’s why he looks familiar. But something inside says that’s not it.
“Oh wow.”
A smile creeps across my face as I read his stats.
“You really weren't kidding.”
There's a picture of him onstage with a guitar slung low across his chest, thousands of fans reaching toward him.
Another from what looks like an awards show.
One of him laughing during an interview.
Even through the tiny screen, those forest green eyes are unmistakable.
I shake my head, smiling to myself.
And somehow...
None of it changes anything.
If anything, it makes me admire him even more.
He could've spent the entire afternoon talking about himself.
Instead, he asked about me.
About Moon & Mug.
About my favorite books.
About the ridiculous crystal display that customers constantly rearrange.
He wanted to know me.
Not once did he act like someone expecting to be recognized.
My heart squeezes.
God...
I really am in love with this man.
I tuck my phone back into my purse, already picturing the look on Graham's face when I tease him later.
“So...”
I grin to myself.
“Rock star, huh?”
I wonder if he'll blush.
The thought makes me laugh under my breath.
I don't even realize I've wandered several steps away from the restroom until a voice cuts through the quiet.
“Well, well...”
I freeze.
The smile slips from my face.
Three men are walking toward me from farther down the trail.
I never heard them coming.
How?
The woods had been so peaceful just moments ago.
Now...
They seem eerily quiet.
One of them is tall and broad with shaggy dark hair and a beard that looks like it hasn't met a razor in weeks.
Another has tattoos climbing both arms and the kind of lazy grin that instantly puts me on edge.
The third hangs back just enough to make me wonder if he's trying to block the path.
Without thinking, I glance toward the path that leads to the men's restroom.
No Graham.
He'll be back in a minute.
He said he would.
The tallest man steps closer.
Too close.
His smile never reaches his eyes.
“Look what we have here.”
The three of them fan out almost casually until I'm standing in the center of a loose circle.
Every instinct I have begins screaming.
Wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
I tighten my grip on my purse strap.
“Can I help you?”
The tattooed one chuckles.
“I think that's our line.”
Another step.
Another.
My pulse quickens.
“Are you lost, tiny human?”
Human?
The word lands strangely.
Not tourist.
Not lady.
Human.
I force a polite smile that I don't feel.
“No.”
I shift my weight, looking for the easiest path around them.
“Yeah? well, you smell like fur and sex. Who’ve you been fucking then?”
The bearded man looks past me toward the empty trail.
“What? Look you better leave. I'm waiting for someone,” I reply and step back.
Every instinct is telling me to get away from these men.
“Don't see anybody.”
“He'll be right back. You should go.”
The tallest one tilts his head, studying me with unsettling intensity.
“I don't think he will.”
A chill races down my spine.
Shit.
Graham said he'd be right back.
He keeps his promises.
I know he does.
I take another careful step backward.
“I’m not interested, okay? Now, if you'll excuse me...”
The tattooed man mirrors the movement, cutting me off before I can get around him.
My heart starts pounding.
This isn't an accident.
They're trapping me.
I glance toward the trail again.
Come on, Graham...
Please hurry.