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4
Izzy
It wasn’t the first time I’d had a weird customer.
I lived in a town full of people who could shift into animals, people who could perform magic, vampires — all sorts. it took a lot to throw me off anymore. In all this time, I’d never met someone with such an allure. He drew me to him in a way I didn’t expect. He pulled me up and out of myself until I almost wanted to agree to leave with him.
What the hell kind of name was Rhuron anyway?
Huffing out my breath in annoyance, I turned back to my work.
I didn’t have to call the cops, that much was good. With only a couple more hours left on my shift, I didn’t need the police making me stay late to file a report or help find the stranger.
He was so sure.
So confident.
Biting my lip, I pushed these thoughts aside. It didn’t matter how attractive he was, my self-esteem couldn’t be low enough that I’d actually consider dating the creeper when he acted like that. I deserved better.
Couldn’t deny that he was good looking, though.
His brows furrowed a little while he spoke. His tongue flicked over his lower lip in frustration when I said no. He felt other-worldly, like from the get-go he didn’t belong in my little flower shop.
Rhuron.
I turned his name over in my mind like a jaw breaker I wasn’t ready to bite into yet.
His voice itself had a slight accent, something old and crisp that let sharp letters click from his tongue quick succession. What kind of an accent was that? Almost sing-songy, like he was reciting a poem he’d read a thousand times over, even when saying simple sentences.
Wait, no, I was going to push these thoughts aside.
Annoyed with myself and dying to get him out of my head, I started setting aside plants that would need to be transplanted after closing.
The rest of my shift was just a struggle to ignore the thoughts that kept bursting their way into my mind.
He wasn’t anyone important!
He literally didn’t matter.
Why did I have to focus on him like this?
Half an hour after closing, I finally got to lock up the shop. Marie had texted me a bunch; the texts were getting more and more incoherent with each drink she downed.
“There’s a cute fox shifter here you should meet! He’s an algebra teacher.”
“Why aren’t you replying? Leave work early, come drink with us! I think you two would be cute together.”
“Never mind on the math guy I think he likes me! Uh oh!”
“Leaving the bar now but if you want to go have fun!”
It was hardly eight in the evening, and I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. Reading her texts as I walked down the street, I tried to picture what it would be like to live like that. I couldn’t imagine going home with some random man I’d met at a bar. Just picturing myself going home with anyone at all felt strange.
I spent so much of my time alone.
Thoughts of the weird man who came into my shop crossed my mind, and as though I’d summoned him, he appeared on the sidewalk ahead of me.
“Hey,” he started.
