Speaking of which… You sure this isn’t you?
I fire off the picture then slip my phone into my pocket and step through the open train doors at my stop. The evening breeze has a bite to it that makes me pull my coat up over my ears, wishing I’d worn a scarf. Despite the dark sky, there’s not a star in sight, and I trudge along the slushy sidewalk. The snow’s melting thanks to Canada’s infamous false-spring, where naive souls—such as myself—get our hopes up during a random bout of warm weather in late January. All so the Earth can turn around with a bigfuck youin the form of a blizzard, like the one I’m willing to bet comes next week.
Lucas
Caught me. Here I thought the bald head and neck tattoos would throw you off.
Eira
I could smell you from a mile away
Lucas
It feels like I should be offended by that
I could tell him it’s a compliment. That I bought a candle last week simply because the scent when I walked through the storebrought me crashing back to his bed, breathing in the smell of his warm skin. That I turn my candle warmer on every night so my room smells like him when I fall asleep.
Or that I went back two days ago and bought ten more of the same candle, just in case they discontinue them.
For the last month we’ve been talking almost non-stop during waking hours, between text messages all day and phone calls at night. But we flirt, we talk about our day, and we don’t talk about anything important. Like what the fuck we’re doing here, or why he still hasn’t come to visit.
Lucas
I can taste you from almost 500km away, snow angel
Eira
Yeah? What do I taste like?
Lucas
Mine.
Chapter twenty-one
Lucas
February 19
Iswitch up the grip on my rasp, spinning it to slide the handle into a loop on the side of my tool belt. I’m not usually an eavesdropper, but my ears perk up hearing the stable manager and lead therapeutic riding instructor chatting at the end of the alley.
“Hey,” I call out, dropping the pastern and standing to look toward the two women. “Sorry to startle you. I heard you talking about wanting to make some pamphlets or something for the kids camp.”
“Uh…” The stable manager’s eyes flit from me, to her trainer, then back. “Yeah, we want some kid-friendly booklets about horse care, riding, that kind of thing.”
“My g—I know areallytalented illustrator.”
“You do?” Crystal, the lead trainer, raises an eyebrow.
“I do. She doesn’t usually illustrate this type of stuff.” Heat rises in my cheeks at the recollection of Eira’s drawings. “But she’s so talented, I’m sure she could do it. I’ll text you her contact info.”
“Incredible. Um… thanks, Lucas?”
With a silent nod, I head back to the senior mare waiting for me to finish her back left foot.
Lucas
You okay with me passing on your number for some potential illustration work?
