Page 16 of Are You Gonna Run?
He mercifully lets me eat in silence and then helps me do the dishes, and I have to admit, we make a pretty good team. There’s no elbowing, getting in each other’s way or duplicating tasks. It just... works.
But when the kitchen is clean, we’re right back to staring at each other awkwardly. “Do you... want to watch a movie or something?” I offer, but even I know my face is doing something stupid. His phone buzzes to distract us both.
I watch him pull it out and stare at it in disappointment, his fingers flying over the buttons and making me wonder who the hell it is, but I remind myself that it isn’t my business.
I don’t care. I shouldn’t care. I should hope it’s Tinder.
“Shit. I’d love to, but I guess I have to work.” It buzzes again, and he rolls his eyes at it as he shoves it in his pocket, and then closes the distance between us. “I had a good time, Rowyn.”
Fuck. Wait a minute. That sounded like a legitimate goodbye, just when I was coming around to the idea of him sticking around. “Oh. Yeah, I... I did too. Thanks again for taking me last night.”
“Thanks for allowing me to.” He kisses me deeply, tongue sliding into my mouth like he truly doesn’t want to leave, and then he’s backing away. “See you soon.”
He’s gone before I can get my thoughts in order. The door shuts as he takes all the warmth in the room with him, leaving me to wonder what the hell he meant by that.
I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
Nine: Pillow Princess
For a while, I pace aimlessly around my house waiting for my phone to buzz. But when I find Eris’ black hoodie laying by the side of the couch, I pace a little more pointedly. What else did he leave here?
Other than the blanket I already knew about, I also find a new toothbrush in the holder. Nothing else stands out to me, but maybe that’s enough. It’s not a toothbrush I bought and stashed for later, which means he had his own.
Hm. Did he leave it here so I’d remember him, or so he’d have it next time?
The thought gives me butterflies. Either way, it just proves that Eris is unlikeanyone I’ve ever met, and everything he does seems to surprise me.
After about two hours of filling my go-to girl in on the night’s events, I’m itching to text Eris and tell him to come back over. But if I do that, I’m at fault. It’ll be me who’s leading him on. If I just wait and let him make his own decision, then maybe I don’t have to be the bad guy.
Still, the silence makes me itchy. I know he’s working. He’s busy. We’re not dating, he doesn’t owe me anything, blah blah blah. But these last several hours have seemed empty when just last week, they’d have been a god-given break from my usual non-stop routine.
To stay busy, I box up a few orders, answer a few emails, and brainstorm ideas for my next candle line. People went feral for my poison themed line with scents like belladonna, foxglove, and hemlock, so it stands to reason I should either add to it or find something else in the same vein.
I’m in the middle of looking up ideas for a line based on witchy potions when I hear my doorbell go off about a dozen times.
Curiously, I head upstairs and open the door, trying not to jerk when I see Erisstanding there. He’s filthy, grinning, and holding a box of hot chocolate mix. “Hey, Burrito. Can I use your shower?”
“Of course,” I rush out, embarrassed as hell because I know I always look like a mad scientist when I mess with scents. “I... yeah. Come in.”
“Thanks.” He ruffles my messy hair with a chuckle and kicks off his boots. “Were you working too?”
I notice a black backpack slung over his shoulder when he kisses my cheek, and immediately know he doesn’t plan on going anywhere else tonight. I truly don’t know how to feel about that.
“Yeah, just trying to keep busy. I didn’t get very far though, the last scent I tried smelled like someone threw up in a vat of acid and then tried to dispose of it in a dumpster.”
“That’s... graphic. Is it weird I want to smell it now?”
He tugs off his dirty long sleeve shirt and drops it on the ground, revealing a toned, tanned body that screams he’s a man who works with his hands.
Is it bad I want to lick him right now?
Probably.
Blushing, I point toward the kitchen where my basement door is. “Right this way.”
He follows me eagerly with his pants unbuttoned and his shower forgotten, eyes roaming over my work area like he’s never seen a candle before. “Damn, Rowyn’s Wax. Look at you. You work down here alone?”
“Yep, usually. I have a couple of people who help me package occasionally, but it’s usually just me. I’m the only one who works on the labels and the scents, and clearly the organization.” Uselessly, I try to straighten up some of the haphazard boxes and tinker with the shelves full of glass. “It’s organized chaos.”
