Page 49 of Conceal

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Normally, the plan includes food.

Like today.

What can I say, I like to eat?

“So where are we off to today?” she asks. “What delicious food will I try?”

“You really do love to eat, don’t you?” I chuckle.

She lightly and playfully swats at me. “No more so than you.”

“I never said I didn’t love to eat. Actually, I’m pretty sure I started out our friendship with the disclaimer, I love to eat.”

Her lip tips up, and she bobs her head in agreement. “This is true. I’m sure that was your opening line. Oh, wait.” She puckers her lips in disgust. “Nope. That wasn’t your opening line. I do believe it was . . . ‘like what you see?’” Her voice is low and baritone as if she is trying to impersonate me, and as she talks, she lifts her right eyebrow.

Another fit of laughs escapes my mouth. “I really did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yep.”

“I’m kind of a douche.”

“You said it, not me.” Little lines form around her eyes as she starts to laugh.

“Well, I’m happy you gave me a second chance.”

“Trial basis.”

She tries to keep her voice serious, but the tiny giggle she stifles gives her away.

I love seeing this side of her.

Most of the time, she’s hiding behind a facade she doesn’t want people to break through, but then the more I spend time with her, the walls she has up come crashing down.

I can tell she’s starting to trust me, every time I see her, a piece of her disguise is missing. The feeling is everything.

We continue to walk, and with each step we take, our arms bump.

The desire to take her arm in mine is heavy on my mind, but I know I can’t.

She has to be the one to make the move.

I’m not sure why she is the way she is, but I have to tread carefully. I don’t want to spook her.

Also, since I don’t know the skeletons in her closet, I have no idea what types of horrors she’s faced, so I can’t take advantage or make her feel uncomfortable. So instead of looping our hands together or touching her, we walk.

Since I know how much she loves chocolate bars, I’m planning on taking her to Dylan’s Candy Bar. We are only about half a block up the road when I see a familiar face.

I lift my hand to wave, and from the corner of my eye . . . Willow turns to look at who I’m waving to. Her body tightens next to me, becoming stiff. Charles sees me and starts walking over to where we are. That’s when I notice Willow’s body moving closer to me, and her head looking down.

She doesn’t want to meet him.

The way she presses into me, it’s as if she wants to become invisible.

Instantly, my own muscles tense.

A million ways to make this easier for her run through my head, but I can’t think of one that will work as he’s almost upon us. That’s when Willow’s hand reaches up and cups her nose. Before I can say anything, she’s pushing away.

“My nose . . .” she says, her hand covers her face as she starts to walk. “It’s bleeding.”

“Let me—”

“I’m fine, just need to find a bathroom,” she hollers over her shoulder.

I shake my head in confusion, but as I’m about to take off after her, I remember Charles is heading in my direction, and I have to say hi.

* * *

I find Willow a few minutes later. She’s standing in front of the candy bars, and she already has one in her mouth.

I would laugh, but I know Willow eats candy bars when she’s upset. And when I see the wrapper and see it’s a Kit Kat, I know she’s more than upset.

She looks adorable bundled in her scarf with the chocolate in her mouth. She reminds me of a homeless puppy you want to adopt and take care of. You want to make sure they are warm and well-fed.

That’s how I feel when I see her. I want to take care of her and cocoon her in a world where no one can hurt her.

The realization has me halting my steps. I’ve always wanted to help her, but now it’s more.

At first, this started off with wanting to crack the puzzle, the code to who Willow is, but now I know, I want more.

Heading over to her, I approach her the way you would approach a caged animal. Slow and calm.

It’s loud in Dylan’s, but she must hear me because she turns to look over her shoulder to look at me. Her eyes don’t look the same; they seem lost and hollow.

Yes, they are hidden behind the brown contacts, so that could be it, but it’s more than that. I can’t put my finger on what.

Maybe it’s her nose.


Tags: Ava Harrison Romance