Whispered Curses

She nodded, then dashed out. I sunk onto the couch, dumbfounded.

Was she shy after the most amazing sex of my life? There was no way she couldn’t have felt that connection.

Was it the process of getting her number that made her uneasy? Maybe she assumed this was a one-morning stand situation. I knew she didn’t know me very well, but I hoped she didn’t think I was that kind of guy. I don’t think I did anything to lead her to believe that.

I managed to wait three whole hours before sending her a text.

Eden, I know I’m supposed to pretend to be cool and wait a few days to text you. I can’t play games. I think you’re incredible. May I take you out for a proper date this Friday night?

Four minutes later, not that I was counting and holding my breath, she read the message. I saw the three dots hover as she typed. Then they disappeared. No response.

Maybe she was on the subway. Maybe she picked up groceries on the way home and her hands were full.

Maybe...

There was no way she couldn’t want more of what we had?

~ Chapter 7 ~ Eden ~

* What’s in a Name? *

The deity of the underworld. The devil.

Son of a biscuit. Nana’s warning echoed in my ears, in the back of my mind. It was so oddly specific.

“Never get in bed with the devil.” There wasn’t much room for interpretation about that one.

Laying sprawled across my bed, I stared at the ceiling. Then I nearly cried thinking about how hilarious Eric was when he was chatting so naturally to a spatula.

He was quirky. Silly. I liked that in a hot, strong, hunky guy. A little silliness is underrated. A sense of humor and lightness is important.

“He lives for darkness and fire.”

Is there any way Nana could have meant passion? Maybe his passion would be too much for me, and I’d have a great life being slightly overwhelmed?

I wished that I could have a cup of tea with her and ask. Nobody had ever talked to her directly about The Knowing, but would that be bad? She must be aware of it. My sister had been talking about going out to visit Nana in Vancouver in a few months. I had a bit of money saved up. Maybe I could splurge and go as well.

Rolling onto my side, I reached for my journal but didn’t bother opening it. I didn’t want to fill it with more pages of how scared I was. The pages were already heavy with my nervous rantings. I was much less nervous around Eric. It felt incredible to have my anxiety turned down.

Logically, I knew that on some level I believed in Nana’s warning because I was scared of dating again. Dating Eric would be totally different, in more ways than I could likely think of. He was powerful, confident. Gorgeous. He was incredibly sweet. It would be far too easy to hand him the shriveled fragments of my heart and hope that he could breathe life back into it.

But what if he failed.

Sitting up, I grabbed my pen and opened the notebook. There must be something else I could vent about to bring me back to reality.

Then my phone pinged, and I read new texts from Eric.

Reasons why you might not get back to me:

Zombies. Work emergency. Vacation in a hippie commune that doesn’t allow cell phones.

You live in a complicated apartment where everything is monogrammed with E for Eden, and you’re terrified someone named Eric would mess up your system. I’ll gladly change my name to see you again. How about Nermal? Or Thornton?

If it’s something I did wrong, please know I’d do absolutely anything to make it up to you, and be given another chance.

Son of a pirate. Son of a biscuit. Frick.

I almost laughed at my semi-curses.