Page 37 of Below the Shadow of the City

It feels like Maddox and I are back on the phone together spending hours passing the time talking. I ask him more about his work and learn that “remote IT” was an understatement. He’s an incredibly experienced software developer who’s worked on projects for a consultancy that range from classified government initiatives to multi-billion companies in the private sector.

“Are there any secret government projects you can at least hint at?” I ask between forkfuls of pasta.

“My sister’s a lawyer, don’t you think I know exactly how tight the NDAs I’ve signed are?”

“I work as an admin assistant for a tech CEO, I’m hardly a national threat.”

Maddox puts his fork down, “you’re trying to get me to let my guard down by seducing me, that’s exactly what a mole for a secret foreign faction would do. You can’t be trusted with these secrets, Agent Larson.” He laughs and I playfully hit him with my fork.

It’s painful how much it proves compatibility between us when I know this can’t keep on like this. When I trail off because I catch myself getting too overexcited or vulnerable, he catches onto it. Sure, he doesn’t call me out on it, his eyes just make it obvious that he knows my tell and that my cryptic nature won’t work on him.

Orion comes back to our table and offers a dessert menu. I’m so full I’m regretting wearing such a form fitting dress. Maddox declines the menu. “You already know I’m going to get us that tiramisu you guys have.”

“I figured as much,” Orion answers with a chortle and heads back to the kitchen.

“You have a dessert stomach, right?” Maddox asks.

“Surely that’s not a real thing.” I can’t tell if he’s joking or if he biologically has been blessed with a second stomach just for sweets.

“I can pretend it is,” he chuckles.

When the tiramisu arrives I manage to get myself a spoonful before Maddox devours the entire thing. I don’t mind, the one spoonful was enough to make me want to be horizontal for the rest of the night while everything digests.

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth.” He sheepishly admits as he scrapes the plate clean.

“Clearly,” I laugh. “How long did it take you to eat that first box of cookies?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I think I really do now.”

“A day.”

“Maddox!” I exclaim. I’d made him two dozen cookies, which meant he averaged one an hour. Not impossible just…a lot. Having a black hole stomach like that would be an enviable trait if the thought of eating that much sugar at once didn’t make me nauseous.

“They were good! And like I said, I have a sweet tooth.” He leans back in his chair and rubs his stomach after tossing his fork onto the empty plate.

We walk through the dimly lit streets, he was right about them lowering the lights later at night, it feels like evening now, rather than the warm glow the neighborhood had before. We stroll, his arm has found its way around my shoulders and I’m walking closely beside him.

Then, before I know it, we’re back in the basement of my building. We’d managed to ride the elevator back to my basement without me catching on to our destination.

No going back to his place, or any second location for that matter. The night is over, just like that. It had all felt so easy, despite this being our second time together in person. Since obviously our run-ins in the alley and the first meeting in the laundry room don’t count.

He walks me back to the laundry room, and clutches my waist. He looks like he wants to kiss me. I want to tell him that he doesn’t have to ask me permission. I’d take any piece of him touching me right now. My head twitches in a nod, inviting him to take the initiative here. The right side of his mouth twitches up, a fang flashes, and he pulls me closer.

We kiss. The taste of chocolate lingers on his lips and I get a hint of the sweetness when we meet. He pulls back and grins.

“Well, you’re going to have to see me again,” he holds my hand in his and nervously rubs mine with his thumb. It’s a cute nervous tic I’m annoyed I’ve picked up on. I shouldn’t be so enamored by the feeling of his leathery fingertips grazing the back of my hand, but the little warm and fuzzy sparks it produces are hard to ignore.

“Why’s that?” I ask, playful enough to seem mildly intrigued at best, hoping the dim light of the hallway masks at least some of my blush. Praying this means there will be an invite back to his place or even better, sex right here, right now.

He leans closer and growls low in my ear, “Because you still have my hoodie.” He pulls back, winks, and turns to walk back down the hallway. “Have a good night, Sigrid,” he calls from over his shoulder. No invite back to his place. No ferocious sex on the floor of the laundry room. A kiss goodnight and an “I’ll see you again” threat. What the fuck.

CHAPTER 16

WEDNESDAY, EARLY OCTOBER

Hi Sigrid,