Sighing, I’m about to crawl into bed when I notice a figure a couple of feet away from my window. Perfect features, a body that makes my lips turn swollen, my mouth water with hunger.
I know he know that I’ve seen him but he stays immoveable, maybe because he doesn’t want to risk me running anywhere again and it makes me ache. Lifting a hand, I wave at him and his teeth slightly flash in the dark in a quick smile.
He waves back, then nods his head for me to get into bed. It’s not until now that I realize I’m wearing a nightie that has a pie on it and the wordcutieabove it. My cheeks heat when I think about how the girls at the bar would he laughed, but Trent? He seems to think that it’s...cute.
Getting in between the covers, I put my head on the pillow and even if I should feel the opposite of safe, having Trent right outside, I don’t.
I feel the way, I feel when I’m in the middle of a fire. Sheltered.
*****
The next morning, I wake up to no Trent. But of course he had to go home and do all the things that normal humans do, even if he doesn’t look like a normal human. I spend the day working out and beautifying the garden outside of my house, which mostly just consists of weed, hence the revamping.
Luckily when Trent knocks on my door, I’ve already washed up and I’m not covered in dirty anymore. Looking outside of my window, my pulse starts jumping at the sight of him. He’s casually dressed as always, but this time his denims aren’t ripped and his t-shirt has short sleeves.
He’s made an effort. For me.
Opening the door, I glance at him and there’s some steel in his eyes.
“Said I’d be here today and I am. If you want me to leave, then just say so.”
I shake my head, then smile when he hands me a bouquet of daisies. “Come in,” I breathe and he wastes no time, almost tackling me to pass the threshold. Once inside, a huge grin wanders over his face and his eyes shimmer with satisfaction.
But when they lower they flicker with savagery again.
“You ran from me yesterday, sunray,” he says, his eyes moving down my body. “Why?”
My shoulders slump. “Don’t know, guess I was scared.”
“Scared?” He raises his brows. “Don’t stop there. Explain.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, whispering, “You make me feel so much, Trent. You make everything so bright and you make everything hurt.” I put my hand on my heart, “Here,” my hand goes lower, between my thighs, “here too. A lot.”
When I open my eyes again, he’s staring at me with a dumbfounded look on his face and I sigh, “Too much information?”
His eyes darken with fever. “Never.”
I nod, blurting because I have bad impulse control, “The way you make me feel, it...it makes me want to tell you things.”
Trent’s features sharpen. “What things?”
Nervously, I start picking with the daisies,tell him, don’t tell him, tell him, don’t tell him...
“Do you want some lemonade?” I ask instead and he looks disappointed. “I make a mean one.”
He gives me a long glance. “Sure, I’ll have anything you make.”
And I’ll have your babies, please.
Jerking, I inwardly shake my head and rush over to the adjoining kitchen where I take out the lemons and a knife. He leans over the counter, watching me squeeze the lemons into a carafe and a smile stretches his face.
“What?” I ask, raising my brows.
“Could make that go faster for you if you’d want,” he says and I shrug, nodding. He grabs two lemons in one of his hands and squeezes out the juice a lot better than I can, his muscles not even straining.
Clasping my hands underneath my chin, I murmur, “Even when you do mundane things, you manage to look otherworldly.”
He coughs in his fist, a pink tint spreading over his tanned cheekbones and I shrug. “Just being honest.”