The door finally opens, Evee’s babysitter, Sadie, letting us in, telling us that Rumi and Ava are just finishing getting ready. I remind Anderson to take off his shoes, knowing the house rules even after the few times I’ve been here.
“Hey, Evee girl,” I say when I find Evee in her high chair, spaghetti sauce all over her face. I lean down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Sitting down at the chair next to her, Sadie cleans up around the kitchen as Anderson makes conversation with her, never one to sit in silence. Through my half-listening as I watch Evee play with the noodles on her high chair tray, I learn that Sadie is a sophomore at a nearby college, is majoring in marine biology, and has a pet cat named Meowth like the Pokemon.
“Jack, Anderson,” I hear from one of the bedrooms, turning to find Ava. “Do you guys want a drink or something? Rumi is almost ready to go.” She walks into the kitchen, her red hair slicked back in a bun at the nape of her neck, her freckles on full display. She’s wearing a yellow sundress that compliments her hazel eyes—the one’s locked on Anderson as she walks into the kitchen.
“Nice to see you, again,” Anderson drawls, giving Ava a quick once-over, his eyes sparkling as he takes her in, and I instantly feel like I’m interrupting something.
“I’m going to go check on Rumi,” I announce, stretching out the words as I stand up from my chair, turning to give Sadie a raise of my brow, noticing that she’s trying to hide a smile of her own as she makes herself busy helping clean Evee up as Anderson and Ava make heart eyes at each other—I don’t even think they register that I said anything by the way Ava laughs at something Anderson says, lightly touching his arm as he subtly flexes in his T-shirt.
I knock on Rumi’s door, and she opens it quickly, like she was standing on the other side of it.
“Hi.” Her blue eyes wide with surprise, obviously not expecting me to be the one who knocked.
“I need you to save me.” I don’t want to enter her space unless she wants me to, so I reach my arms up on the top of the door frame, leaning in just enough to press a kiss to her cheek.
“From what?” she giggles, leaning into me as my lips meet her skin.
“Ava looks like she’s two seconds away from mounting Anderson on the kitchen counter.” The smell of vanilla washes over me, and it takes all my willpower to pull away from Rumi, wishing I could kiss every inch of her skin, feel her body on top of mine, hear the noises she makes when I?—
And I’m no different than Ava.
Rumi laughs, taking a step back, so I can walk into her bedroom.
The space is exactly what I would expect, neat but not overtly so, with a bed for Rumi and a crib for Evee. The walls are painted a pastel green with a pink and sage green comforter to match. There’s a big dresser against the wall with her TV softly playing a playlist I see called “guilty pleasures: boy band edition”, and piles of clothes on her bed with a book flipped over with a loose sock sticking out as a bookmark.
“Sorry, it’s a little messy,” she apologizes.
“Um, what was that?” I ask, my way of reminding her she has absolutely no reason to apologize. I pick up the book on her bed, my eyes roaming over the cover. There’s two men, one looking sharp with fangs and the other rough and wild—almost like a half-turned wolf. They’re standing close in a dark, moody setting, staring at each other like there’s some serious tension between them—and definitely the sexual kind.
Before I can flip the book over to read the back, it’s torn from my hands.
“Now is not the time for reading,” Rumi says, throwing the book back on the bed, and I can’t help but notice how she’s not meeting my eyes as she makes herself busy moving clothes from one pile on her bed to the other, as if she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.
I raise a brow, now even more intrigued. “Is this what Ava meant when she mentioned vampire smut?”
“How did you—” she starts, no doubt remembering how Ava was about to mention it after Evee’s party when we made these plans. “You know what,” she says instead, “I don’t comment on your reading choices, Mr. Cozy Mysteries.”
I put my hands up in mock surrender. “Of course you don’t,” I tease. “You’re too busy admiring my reading glasses.”
If I knew the way to Rumi’s heart was a man in reading glasses—in addition to the five inch inseam shorts and thigh tats—I would’ve suggested late-night reading dates over FaceTime much sooner than two nights ago.
“That,” she starts, pointing a finger at me before lowering it, accepting defeat. “I cannot argue with.”
“See? This is why dating is so fun. Learning new things about each other, like how you don’t likeTwilightbecause Edward and Jacob don’t end up together.”
Her eyes widen as if I just flashed her, and her cheeks turn the richest shade of red.
“That is not?—”
“Do your cheeks get numb from blushing at me, Rumi baby?” I can’t help but tease, wishing I could spend the rest of the night finding all the different ways I could turn those cheeks pink. “No need to be embarrassed, but I promise your secret is safe with me.” I close the distance between us but stop with just enough room to admire the outfit she’s wearing, one I didn’t notice until this moment while taking in her space—and her reading choices.
When she opened the door to her bedroom, I, of course, noticed how breathtaking she looked, her long lashes framing her pretty blue eyes, the dusting of freckles on her pink cheeks, her devastatingly full lips begging for me to taste them, but I didn’t notice her full look.
Half of her hair is pulled back in two little ponytails with ribbons wrapped around them, the color of them perfectly matching the pink in her floral dress. The fit of it perfectly compliments her insane curves, accentuating her mouthwatering chest and toned, tan legs.
Beneath the hair falling down her shoulders, I can see the scar on her collarbone—the one that reminds me of how much she has changed since that night of her accident, the night I found her.
