ChapterEight
Saffron
An hour later,I winced at the clock. "I should go."
He stood immediately. "Where are you going?"
"I don't know. I feel like I should just go."
I didn't want to. Which was part of the problem. He was smart. And funny. And I liked him, but I was not the hookup kind. Besides, if I didn't turn up at Tabatha's, Gabe was going to lose his shit. "I just have to go."
"Just stay a little longer. You haven't even finished your cake."
"You're right. And it is a good cake."
"Yeah, it is."
The truth of it was, I couldn't think of a good enough reason to stay other than I could see the danger here. The danger for me. The way he watched me with intensity. I could feel his gaze on me with every step I took. The way he made the hairs on my arm stand up… I wanted more of that. I wanted more of him. I wanted his attention on me. I had dismissed him at first as a carefree playboy. But he was more than that. The more he talked about his brother, the more I was able to talk about my parents. And he listened. He offered no reproach. Just listened.
"Finish your cake. Then I'll walk you back to your mate's place. You said she's near here, right?"
I nodded. "You've already done too much.”
“It's your fucking birthday. You should celebrate."
"You know I can't finish the rest of this, right?"
"What about another fork? We can share a fork, or maybe I can just lick the frosting and you eat the cake."
I stared at him. "Eww."
"Oh, come on. I don't—”
“Uh-uh, no, we're not doing that."
"Come on,” he said, laughing.
"Licking frosting is like sharing toothbrush."
He laughed. "You mean to tell me you've never shared your toothbrush with someone you're dating?"
I shuddered. "No. I tend not to have relationships that last that long. But also, ewww."
He laughed. "Oh, come on. You're putting toothpaste on the brush, right? So it's already getting clean."
I shook my head. "No. No, no, no."
He just laughed. "I’ve got a toothbrush in there that you should use to brush your teeth before you go."
I shuddered. "No. Gross."
I knew he was fucking with me.
He relented and stood up and got himself another fork before joining me on the couch.
"Which birthday is this?"
"Twenty-two. In the States, that would have some big significant meaning. Not too much here."