Chapter 12 #3
The décor’s kind of a surprise, though. Everything’s tidy, like I expected, but it’s also very homey.
I guess I thought Kieran would go for a minimalist, Scandi-type look?
Instead he’s got an oversize, plush couch and solid pieces of furniture that look like they’ve been there forever without being worn out.
It’s the kind of comfortable environment where you feel like it’s okay to take your shoes off, and if you toss your keys on the table, that’s just going to add character.
“This is great. Have you lived here long?”
“Since I moved to town. I lucked out—the lady who owns it moved in with her daughter but didn’t want to sell.
The rent is an absolute steal because I handle the basic maintenance.
Not that there’s much to do—she kept the place in immaculate condition.
I pay one of the teens down the street to mow the lawn and weed the garden, and… ” He trails off. “I’m babbling.”
“It’s cute.” I wink. “Do I make you nervous?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Not nervous, exactly. I just… have never had anyone stay over all night before. Here, I mean.”
Be charming, Uncle Norval said. I can be charming. Do I want to charm Kieran?
Yes.
I’m not ready for marriage and babies—not sure I ever will be—but I like Kieran and maybe I don’t want this to just be a few days of casual fucking. The idea of text messages and late-night video calls—sexy and otherwise—and sneaking in visits between assignments is… oddly appealing right now.
So… I can be charming.
“I promise to be a good houseguest. But, uh… is anyone likely to mess with my car? My kit’s in there, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Should I bring it inside?”
He shakes his head, visibly relaxing now that I’ve given him a problem to solve. “No, it’ll be fine. There hasn’t been a break-in on this street since I’ve lived here and for years before that. Let me show you around.”
The house doesn’t have many rooms, but they’re all spacious and welcoming. Aside from the living room and kitchen, there’s a big family bathroom, two bedrooms, and a laundry-slash-mudroom. Kieran pushes open the door to the second bedroom.
“You can work in here.” He gestures to the desk, which has only a computer on the surface. No notepads, pens, bills needing to be paid. Kieran really is the tidiest person I’ve ever met. “And, uh, if you want some time to yourself, the daybed is comfortable.”
I glance over at the wall it sits against. Sure, it looks fine, but… “No pressure or anything, but I was kind of hoping to share with you.”
He grins. “Fine with me.”
The next stop is the master bedroom. The queen-sized bed is covered with a slate-gray comforter in a soft, lustrous fabric that makes me want to jump on it and roll around.
“Very nice.” I drop my bag against the wall and don’t miss the way Kieran glances at it. A snort escapes me. “Want me to unpack?”
“No. No, you don’t have to do that.” He forces his eyes up to mine. “It’s… fine.”
This is my chance to impress him. To charm him. “What if I put it in the closet?”
He sighs. “Would you? It’s dumb, I know, but—”
“Not dumb, and I’m happy to. This is your home, Kier. You should be comfortable here.” I grab my bag and hurry over to the closet. That’s the first time I’ve ever used his nickname, and it tasted great in my mouth. I am so screwed.
Closing the door, I turn to him and smile. “Takeout? My treat.”
I study the ceiling carefully from my position lying flat on the floor. “There’s not a single crack,” I marvel. “Not a mark, not a stain. It’s acres of white plaster.”
“Told you,” Kieran says from the couch, where he’s also lying flat and staring upward. “It’s like white noise for my vision. You can just get lost in the soothing white blankness of it.”
I relax my eyes and look beyond the white… into more white. He’s right. “How can it possibly be this pristine? The house isn’t new.”
There’s a rustle as he moves. “Don’t know. It was like this when I moved in, and since then, I’ve felt challenged to keep it this way.”
“Definitely.” I let myself drift in the whiteness of it all. “Thanks for sharing this with me.”
“Thanks for not laughing when I suggested it.”
We fall into silence for a while longer.
“Connor?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s private.”
My heart beats a little faster. “Ask,” I croak.
“What do your tattoos mean?”
It takes me a second to realize he’s not asking something that’s going to require me to share deep emotions. “My tattoos?”
He sits up, and I find myself doing the same. My head spins a little after being lost in the whiteness. “Yeah. It seems to be script, but not in English? And there’s so much of it. Like I said, you don’t have to tell me,” he tacks on quickly.
“No, it’s fine. It actually is English, just shorthand.”
Those pretty green eyes blink at me. “What?”
“You know, shorthand. Stenography? What secretaries used to use to take minutes in meetings.”
There’s confusion all over his face as he looks at my inked-up arms again. “You chose to have your tattoos done in shorthand?”
“It cut down on the space needed and let me fit more.” I’m being deliberately obtuse because it’s so much fun to tease him.
He gives me a level look. “Connor.”
“Yes, Kieran?”
His laugh lights up his face. “You’re such a dick.”
“What’s that? You want my dick? It’s all yours.” I leer at him. “But to answer your question, they’re instructions.”
“Instructions?” He grabs my arm and turns it, studying the lines of symbols. “You turned your body into an instruction manual?”
A shrug might dislodge his hold on me, so I settle for saying, “Basically, yeah. There are a lot of different beings in the otherworld, and it was easier to learn shorthand and tattoo the ways of dealing with them on me than to memorize them all.”
His laugh this time seems completely involuntary, bubbling up out of him until he’s gasping for breath. “You sound like a teenager who can’t be bothered studying for a test so he writes the answers on his hand.”
“How do you think I thought of it? I was once that teenager.” I’m not ashamed to admit it, either.
He wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes and points at a line. “What’s this for?”
“Bone demon. They’re nasty bastards that feed on bones. If you ever find a ripped-apart body with no bones left, that’s what did it.” I tap the tattoo. “The only way to kill them is with an acid solution, so they’re not fun to deal with.”
He swallows, all traces of laughter gone. “I bet. Is this the recipe for the solution?” His finger traces over my skin, and I shiver.
Kieran lifts his head to meet my gaze.
What were we talking about? Right, bone demons. “Uh… yeah. But don’t worry. They don’t often come through gateways.”
“How often is not often?” He’s stroking my arm now.
“I’ve only ever had to deal with one. So… not often.”
“Connor?”
“Yeah?”
“You and your colleagues are good at stopping these demons, aren’t you?”
“We’re awesome.”
“Then I no longer care. You do your hero thing and keep us all safe, and I won’t worry my head about it.” He leans in, and I rise to meet his kiss.