25. Chapter Twenty-Five #3
We are stuck in a never-ending cycle of waiting on the inevitable, but somebody has to be willing to pull the trigger.
I’ve never fired a gun, but damn, if I didn’t load and cock the son-of-a-bitch and leave it at his feet, for him to decide.
The air between us stretches tight. His eyes flick down to my mouth, then back up.
I can practically feel the war raging within him.
He’s full of desire, yes, but something deeper holds him in check by a sheer force of will.
Then he cups my jaw, stroking my face with his thumb. His voice lowers and acquires some softness, “Do you know what proper courting looks like, Elowen?” My breath depletes again, entirely involuntarily.
Courting? Not dating. Not flirting. Courting. He believes I’m something to be treasured, something rare.
My mind scrambles for something to say, some kind of witty retort, some casual brush-off that would keep this moment from detonating.
All of a sudden I’m scared of where this might lead.
But I can’t find one. My mouth is trying to find rhythm with my mind and heart, but to no avail.
Not with the way he’s looking at me. Like he wants to memorize my every breath beneath him.
“I—” I start, barely audible. “I don’t think anyone’s ever…used that word with me.” His lips curl at the edge. Not quite a smile, almost reverent.
“That doesn’t surprise me. First time for everything, I guess.” He murmurs.
Then, after a heartbeat, he steps back, not far, just enough to let the air return to my lungs.
Enough to make me miss the aura of him instantly.
“But if you plan to continue bending over like that before my fucking eyes,” he says, voice returning to that disarming growl from before, “I won’t have the ability to court you properly.
I’ll make you regret being so eager. And, I can promise you…
right now. I don’t do anything halfway.” And just like that, he turns and walks back toward the counter, as if he hadn’t just turned me inside out with a single sentence.
My heart is racing. “You’re so cute when you’re shaken up. ” Beau snickers as he walks away.
He’s destroyed me and now, I need him unconditionally.
My heart won’t calm down. This squeezing ache in my chest is so foreign to me.
I find myself looking for something to grasp casually, but the only thing close is the hundreds of books on the shelves.
Why does everything he says, into my eyes specifically, sound like it directly belongs to me?
Every sweet nothing, I am the sole proprietor of.
When I finally dare to move, I blink and that’s when I notice it.
The lights in the room… they’re brighter now.
Not glaring, not harsh. As if someone had quietly flickered them up without even so much as moving a dial.
The air feels warmer. I turn my attention to Beau who has returned to what appears to be his safe space, behind the counter.
He came on strong, but left me to my own demise. Maybe he thought he was too much?
His posture is perfectly straight. So, the tension riding on his shoulders is completely evident.
Like he’s not nearly as composed as he wants me to believe.
And maybe I’m imagining it after all. There was a shift in the lights, the feeling in the air.
I think he felt it too. I deal with hallucinations and paranoia every day. This is not it.
I shake my head and wander to another shelf. I don’t make eye contact. I announce my final response to his admission. “Okay. Deal.”
As I stand, pretending to browse, I can’t focus in the slightest. Are we together now? Did we both just reveal we want one another? I wander up to the counter.
“Deal? To what part?” He asks.
“All of it.” My response stills him again and he rakes his eyes across my frame. I won’t bend over in front of him anymore and in return, he can make the next move when he’s ready. But, god, would a kiss be too much to ask for?
“Okay.” That’s all he says. All of that just to back down. I respect his need for space.
“Can you put this one back for me?” I wave a book at him. “Maybe my own little Tbr stack? I want to get it, but not right now.”
He looks up from his laptop to meet my eyes. “Poston? Good choice. You can take it with you. I feel like I’ve been pretty evident about my dislike for you paying for things you want.” He glances back down to his laptop and adjusts it towards himself before ultimately deciding to close it.
“A man with secret computer tabs. Not a good look.” I stifle him, trying to break the uneasy tension between us with a jab.
“I couldn’t figure out if it was disrespectful to keep it open at first. I don’t think I would appreciate it if Kai did it, so I shouldn’t either.” He slides it to the side.
“It came across as sketchy, not disrespectful. Why would it…” He cuts me off before I can continue.
“Take that one with you. I’d like to know your thoughts.” I had selected a random title from a familiar author with the last name Poston. It was slightly battered at the edges, but it just appeared a little used.
The conversation had become severely awkward by the time I thought of what to say next.
He obviously is giving me space so he could accrue the space he needs.
I’m not sure if I like that or not, or know what to make of it.
I clear my throat, my voice small when I call out, “I should, um… I should get going.”
He doesn’t falter. “You’re always free to come and go as you please, Elowen.
” Something about the way he says my name.
It burns low and slow, like he’s tucking it behind his teeth.
I flash a quick half-smile at him and take a few unsteady steps toward the front, pretending I’m not falling apart.
When I reach for the door, I hesitate. My fingers hover over the handle, stupidly unsure.
“I’ll hear from you soon?” he asks, voice smoother now, as if dialing himself back to neutral. He doesn’t ask me out. He doesn’t insinuate any further. I can’t read him like he can me apparently.
I nod, still not turning back. “Yeah. Soon. I have your book after all.”
I need something else. Is he waiting for something from me? Is the gawking after his admission not enough? Saying “deal” to allow him to “court” me?
I want one more spark, one more touch, just to clarify what just happened between us.
But it never comes. I step back into the morning light, the bell above his shop-door chiming.
Only when I’m halfway down the sidewalk do I finally breathe again.
My head begins to ache and I can tell the rest of today is going to look a lot like the last five minutes. Confusing.
At least I have plenty of material to fantasize about until he decides he wants me enough to take his own leap.