Page 27 of Are You Gonna Run?
“I’m only a little sick of you,” I tease. “It’s fine.”
“Bet I make up for it every time I lick your pussy,” he whispers darkly, then taps my hips twice and raises his voice back to normal. “Up. Let’s go enjoy the season a little more.”
He’s not allowed to say things like that and then dismiss me... normally. I only have a few days left to enjoy Halloween, and clearly, I have all the time in the world to trap his pretty mouth between my thighs.
Shimmying off of him, I practically skip out to the truck and ask a million questions as we start to drive. Each one is met with a side eye or a smirk that gives no hints. It isn’t until we’re pulling onto a dirt road and Monster Mash starts playing that I realize he brought me to a pumpkin patch.
Fuck moving in, I think I want to marry him.
I spend the next thirty minutes picking out the perfect pumpkins to carve, choosing cookies and apple cider and splurging on the cutest homemade fall decor. The whole time, I’m worried I’m being annoying or taking too long, but Eris looks just as happy as I do as he watches me in my element. He’s also the one that talks me into multiple photos like he can’t get enough of my smile, and when I catch him sending one of us to a group chat, I try to peek.
“What are you saying about me?”
“I’m making them look at how beautiful we are together.” He pockets his phone and kisses the tip of my nose. “I was thinking about making it my Tinder profile picture.”
My smile fades instantly and I take a step back. “You’re still on fucking Tinder?”
A group of girls walking by laugh as they look over at us, but Eris keeps his gaze on me and closes the distance between us again. “I’m sorry. That was a really bad joke. I deleted it after our first date, I swear.” He holds out his phone like he’s willing to let me go through it. “You’re all I want.”
Yeah, it was a terrible joke and I’d have half a mind to punch him for it if I didn’t believe him. But what choice do I have? He spends every waking moment with me unless he’s at work, so it’s not like he’s cheating. Not physically, anyway.
“It’s fine, I was gonna tell you I have another date next weekend anyway. This is easier.”
“No, you don’t,” he argues, pulling me in to trap me in his arms. “There’s only us. Plus, I’d kill him.”
“Right.” Something tells me he’s not kidding about that. While I’m a little disappointed he didn’t have the same gut-wrenching reaction I did, I wiggle out of his arms and try to get back into the pumpkin patch. “You owe me an extra pumpkin now. A really big one.”
“You got it. I really can’t get this roasting thing right, can I?” He stretches his arm around my shoulders to hold me close, steering me toward the barrel we’ve already filled most of the way. “I think I take my jokes a little too far. Shit, am I Winston?”
Well, there’s nothing wrong with a man who knowsNew Girl.
“You’re just joking about the wrong things. You want to tell me my purple hair makes me look like a Rugrats reject, I’m all for it. Tell me I need a GPS system ingrained in my skin because I can’t walk in a straight line. Tell me I have horrible taste in football teams and my breath smells in the morning. Don’t make me feel like I might not matter.”
When I spin to look at him, I find a man that’s actually listening to my words. “I hear you, sweetheart. I’ll work on my roasting, and try every fucking day to show you how much you matter to me.”
Hell. If this is what it’ll be like with him, I think I might’ve hit the jackpot. All men are idiots. Women can be worse. But finding someone who listens and doesn’t try to spin things or skirt responsibility? That’s rare. “Well, you can start by taking me to get coffee.”
“That sounds good right now. Let’s load all this in the car, and then try the little coffee shop here. I wanna get lost in that haunted corn maze with you after.”
When he winks at me, I know exactly what he wants — and I’m extremely here for it. It pushes his terrible joke from my mind and helps me loosen up as we grabcoffee and spend some time just walking around the grounds, watching the sunset, and sitting by the fire pits they have set up just outside the maze.
But once the sun goes down, he’s ready. He takes my empty cup and tosses it, then helps me to my feet and pulls me closer. “Are you gonna chase me, Eris?”
“That entirely depends.” He leans in to place a gentle kiss on my cheek and whispers, “Are you gonna run?”
Grinning, I squeeze his hand and take off, darting into the maze and taking the first two lefts.
Unlike the last time, I don’t feel him on my heels the second I run. The sound of my own boots crunching against the hay is all I hear for nearly five minutes, and when I realize just how alone I am, real fear creeps up my spine.
My breathing is heavy as I turn another corner and run straight into a morbid take on a scarecrow. His eyes are two soulless pits with fake blood dripping down his hollowed out cheeks, but it’s the expression on his face that creeps me out the most. He looks like he’s screaming.
I stand there staring for far too long though, and suddenly I’m not alone.There’s footsteps coming toward me, each step slow and deliberate, making me assume it’s Eris — but then I get the strangest feeling that it isn’t.
And if it isn’t him... who could it be?
I’m not sure I want to find out.
Taking off again, my blood thunders in my ears and breathing gets harder while my pussy gets wetter. Just thinking about what he’ll do when he catches me...
