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I nodded, taking it.
“Good,” he murmured, kissing my head then stepping back so I could slip the card into my purse.
“The bed.” He pointed to the master bedroom. “It’s new. Your mother picked it.”
“Okay?” I questioned why he was telling me the bed was new. It was an abrupt change in subject. I guessed Elden didn’t want to linger in the past for long. I understood that. If only I could escape mine sticking to my shadow.
“Because the last bed…” he trailed off.
“My mom and stepfather used it,” I deduced, feeling kind of icky yet also amused.
He nodded. “We don’t have to use that room if you don’t want to.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh my god, we’re using the room.”
“We can sleep somewhere else, while we wait.”
“First, I don’t want to sleep somewhere else, I love it here,” I told him sincerely. “And secondly, what are we waiting for?”
“For you to design our house,” Elden said.
I went back on one foot, that’s how hard his words hit me.
“Excuse m-me?” I stuttered.
“Bought us some land,” he said as if it were no big deal. “We sign the papers next week. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, not an actual present, though. Sariah would skin me alive if I didn’t spoil you with one of hermanysuggestions.”
I might’ve smiled at that if it weren’t for the current circumstances. “You bought us land?” I repeated.
Elden nodded. “Quite a bit of it, in fact. No one around for miles. Plenty of space. You can design whatever you want. For us.”
My heart slammed against my ribcage, panic up my throat.
“You bought land for us, for me to design us a house,” I clarified, my voice sounding like it was coming from faraway.
Elden’s posture changed as he registered my reaction, his shoulders straightening.
“Violet,” he stepped forward.
“You know, I’m just going to meet my mom at her house,” I said quickly, snatching my purse.
Elden blinked, stopping in place. “Violet,” he repeated, softer this time.
I couldn’t deal with it. The softness. My perfect, rugged, dangerous biker soft for me, doing things that people just didn’t do in real life.
“I have to go!” My voice cracked at the end.
I expected him to fight. That was kind of his thing. He got all possessive and intense when I got in my own head.
Except he didn’t. Fight.
He kept the distance between us, although his expression made it clear it was difficult for him to do so.
“Okay,” he said.
I didn’t take the time to register how out of character that was for him, what he was giving me, I just needed to escape.
So I did.
