Page 104 of Trust Me

When he parked, I got out of the car and headed to the building. He jogged to catch up, then unlocked the bar and held the door for me. I dipped my head and stepped inside, looking around at the disaster.

“I’ll hit the dishes,” I said.

“Got it.”

As he walked past me, his shoulder brushed mine. I latched onto his arm, and immediately, he turned around, meeting my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

His head cocked. “You don’t have to apologize.”

Under the can lights, his skin glowed like warm copper pulled straight from the forge. Those curious eyes were locked on me, and today, they had more amber to them. It was like he was lit from within, a beacon that didn’t even know it was shining. It was a tragedy that no one ever bothered to look.

“Can I try something?” I asked.

“Sure. I’m down for any—”

When I sunk my fingers into his hair, he shut up immediately. I moved closer, but he took a step back.

“There’s a lot to do,” he said.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he turned around. I let him go, then looked at the hand that had been in his hair. It shook, so I made a fist before I headed into the back.

Those dishes weren’t going to do themselves.