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He takes a step inside, and my breath leaves me at his proximity. “Shall I go?” he asks quietly, his gaze on my mouth. “I only wanted to escort you home. I hope you’re not afraid of me.”
So old-fashioned for a nerdy, modern omega like him. Then again, nerdy can mean old-fashioned sometimes. Fantasy is about old customs and courtesy.
“I’m not,” I say. “You don’t need to do this.”
“But I’d love to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure in my life.”
“We’ll have to take the bus.” If I throw enough obstacles in his way, he’ll turn tail and leave, right?
“The bus it is,” he agrees.
“I live kind of far from here. It will take a while to get there.”
“I have time.”
I swallow hard. Get up from my stool. “I need to change.”
He blinks, his gaze moving over my body. Then his brows go up. “Oh, right. I’ll wait for you outside.”
I shouldn’t take him home with me, to my humble little apartment, to my weird little life. Shouldn’t want the other three to join us, although I told them to leave.
But tonight has gone off the rails and I should have seen it coming from the start…
30
SAWYER
When the door of the dressing room opens again, there stands neither Baby Doll nor my Brin.
Yeah, my Brin, okay?
It’s still her, and yet not. She has changed into her usual clothes, sure, but she’s still made-up, and long earrings still dangle from her ears. A compromise, as if she was in a hurry, probably with me waiting outside, and yet…
And yet that’s who she seems to be. Both Baby Doll and Brinlee, the dancer and the book lover, the sex goddess and the shy, bookish girl.
Like I said, I like both. Both sides of her.
I wonder if there are any more sides I will discover. If she lets me stay near her. If she lets me in. If she trusts me enough.
She’s a pretty puzzle, but I feel like I know her. A mistake? A miscalculation? I feel I know people who read—especially people who read my kind of books. I feel we think the same way. Am I too damn naïve to live?
Time will tell. Hell, tonight may tell. For good or bad, and brace yourself, Sawyer. You bullied your way to her side tonight, even if your reasons are valid. Your rational reasons. Making sure she gets home safe, though you’re no burly alpha to beat up whoever comes near her.
But be honest: what you wanted was to be with her, get closer, take a look into those wide eyes, and taste those ruby lips.
Find out the truth about this connection you feel to her.
She has changed her high heels for sneakers, and she taps one as we wait at the bus stop. She’s also chewing gum, and I get a whiff of strawberry and cream. Is it the gum, or is it her? I’m dying to find out.
She shoots me a glance and an uncertain smile as the bus arrives. I’m treading on thin ice here as I reach for her hand, but she threads her fingers with mine. We climb onto the bus hand in hand, and she sits at the window. I settle beside her and I feel like a highschooler, only in high school I didn’t have a sweetheart.
Nor do you now, I remind myself. Don’t let yourself forget it.
It’s dark outside, the city lights flashing against her pretty face, the colors from shop signs catching on her wild hair. It’s a canvas, her pale hair, her pale skin, reflecting the city.
