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“Grief is such a strange thing.” I still can’t believe she’s gone.
He inclines his head in agreement, then lists the cycle of emotions I have been feeling since mom passed. “Pain, anger, love, forgiveness, blame, reminiscing, laughing, back to pain.” He seems like a man of few words, making every word he does say meaningful. His thumb is still resting on my face. I silently pray it leaves an imprint on my skin so I can remember this moment forever.
“I can’t remember the last time I laughed,” I confess, then blurt out, “And you don’t look like you laugh very much either.” He comes across as being quite a serious guy and he’s not smiled once yet. Feeling uncomfortable and inappropriate for saying that to someone I don’t know, I curse to myself, and as his hand falls away from my face, I take a step back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He licks his thick thumb he used to wipe away my tears. And in that moment, the air sparkles between us. My nipples pucker beneath the fabric of my soft lace bra, imagining his tongue licking places I shouldn’t be, and my deprived pussy clenches in response.
Well, that’s new.
“How do I taste?” I did not mean to ask that.
He pulls his mouth to the side, and I think it’s a glimmer of a smile. Maybe that’s his version of one. He’s a stranger to me, so I can’t be sure. Whatever lies beneath that hard exterior he wears like a shield, I want to find out more. Discover everything.
“You taste like my best decision.” He licks his lips, his eyes becoming hooded as he drops his gaze to my mouth. “And like you’re mine.” He sounds feral.
His reply causes a weird noise to escape from the back of my throat, my skin warming under his stare.
“Ha, good one.” I do some sort of weird clap, finger snap, and point thing with my hands and throw the blood-stained tissue into the waste paper basket, missing it completely.
Get it together, Lily. Be cool.
I smooth down my black pencil skirt and try to remember why I am here; fun team building.
“I should get going.” I clear my throat and grab the handles of my tote bag. “I’m so sorry about your nose.” He rises to his feet, and even with two-inch heels on, I suddenly feel like Thumbelina again. “If you have any medical bills, please let me know and I will pay for them, yeah?” At this rate, I am never paying off my college loans, even with the job at the coffeehouse I started working at in the evenings last week. It pays well, and it’s across the street from the arena used for sporting events and concerts, so the tips are incredible.
“It’s fine.” He stands wide and shoves his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants, then proceeds to shamelessly readjust his cock.
“Okay, I need to go,” I squeak, the octave of my voice now three times higher than normal.
I turn and almost face-plant the bathroom door. How embarrassing.
Glancing back over my shoulder, his attention is still fixed on me, amusement glinting in his eyes. A little beam of sun shines through the restroom windows, bathing him in bright white rays. He looks like he’s glowing.
Wow.
I throw a stupid girly finger wave, making me look like I’m flirting with him, but I’m not, am I? Oh shit, I can’t deny it. I am.
Pulling the door open to leave, he shouts after me, “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Lily,” I call back and just before the door slams shut, I hear him repeating my name as if he’s committing it to memory.
One thing’s for sure. I won’t forget his face.
The gorgeous one I may have ruined.
And I hope he doesn’t forget mine.
Then I realized that I didn’t even ask his name.
Goddamnit, I’m a knucklehead.
Rushing along the corridor, I take the stairs, climbing up the cooler atmosphere of the concrete and iron stairwell. Feeling chilly, I reach up to tighten my scarf to keep me warm.
Then I remember; he still has it.
CHAPTER THREE
Lily – Three Weeks Later
