Charlie
There are only a few moments in my life I’d call truly embarrassing. Like the time I got my front teeth knocked out playing tetherball when I was eight, or the time my skirt got stuck on the escalator and I had to wait for the fire department to untangle me. This moment? Beats them all.
A soft knock breaks me from my self-pity. My captor’s voice comes through the door. “You good in there?” His voice is gentle, not at all judgmental.
“Not really.” I let out a long exhale, defeated and tired. “This issoembarrassing.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. Normal biological function. I got you what you need. I’ll just leave it here at the door, and I’ll be at the booth when you’re ready.” The reassuring words and his calmness soothe me.
I hear footsteps receding. Wrapping a handful of toilet paper around my hand to make a makeshift pad, I slide it into place and adjust so I can make my way to the door.
I gasp when I open the bag. There’s a plethora of feminine products—like he bought the entire aisle. Smiling to myself, I grab what I need and get myself situated.
After what feels like an hour trapped in this restroom, I’m ready to leave. I wash my hands, grab the bag, and stop when I notice two Snickers bars at the bottom. How did he know my favorite candy?
Thoughts of this captor swirl in my head. Maybe he’s someone I know? Maybe this isn’t really a kidnapping at all?
Making my way back to the front, I scan the small diner looking for my captor when my breath catches in my throat. He must have taken his mask and hoodie off while I was in the restroom. He looks more relaxed, at ease even. He doesn’t appear to be a captor. At this moment, he looks like he belongs in this small town.
I know I am shamelessly checking him out but I cannot help it. His full face is on display—and wow, it’s a good-looking face. Sharp jawline, full beard, but not the rugged mountain beard. He looks well-groomed, like he took the time to take care of it. High cheekbones that catch the light, making his eyes stand out even more—deep,dark, and unreadable, like he’s hiding a secret just for me. His lips are full, the kind that make you think they’re meant for mischief, or maybe a kiss. And his messy curly black hair makes me want to run my fingers through it. I’m transfixed on his forearm—tattoos snake up his skin, black lines twisting over his bicep muscle and disappearing under his shirt. My gaze follows the ink trail up to his neck, where intricate designs peek out beneath the collar. Heat prickles my chest and neck before I even realize it. This is it. My instant-attraction trope in real time.
His eyes catch mine, and I give a sheepish smile, mortified that he caught me staring. Reeling my hormones back into my body and letting my brain take control again, I make my way over to the booth.
“Thanks for buying the whole store,” I joke, sliding into the booth opposite him.
His lips twitch up in a small smirk, and I find myself wondering what he would look like with a full smile.
“Don’t mention it. I have experience with this. I know how rough this time of the month can be.”
I wonder how he’s had experience. Does he have a girlfriend? The thought slips in before I can stop it, and jealousy rolls through me for the second time today, hot and irrational.
He must see the look on my face, because he chuckles, low and warm, the sound vibrating between us. He leans back in the booth, one arm draping casually across the top like he owns the space.
“I have a little sister,” he explains, eyes softening as he remembers their relationship. “Trust me, I’ve seen it all. Did you find the chocolate? She used to swear up and down that chocolate could cure anything.”
“Yes, I did find it.” I can’t stop the little smile tugging at my lips. He’s kind of sweet, in a tatted, broad-shouldered, kinda way. I toy with the wrapper between my fingers, letting the crinkle fill the silence. “How did you know Snickers were my favorite?”
“Lucky guess.” His mouth tips into a half smile, dimples threatening to appear. My god, this man has dimples? My poor ovaries are ready to go to any secluded cabins he has in mind.
I must be staring too long because his brows draw together, a puzzled look across his face.
“What?” His voice dips low with confusion.
I swallow, my fingers playing with the wrapper of the candy bar. I didn’t need to melt into a puddle of mush from the intensity of his eyes. Steadying my breath to remain as nonchalant as I can, I muster up one sentence. “You look good without your mask.”
14
Aiden
My eyes widen because, somewhere between all this chaos, I had forgotten about my mask. I begin to formulate some excuse for this kidnapping ruse when I catch her eyes trail over me in a slow sweep. She’s checking me out. A rush of pride courses through me. Without realizing, I straighten and push out my chest.
“You done staring, or should I give you a twirl?” I tease, loving the way her cheeks flush.
“I wasn’t staring,” she backpedals. “You look different than I expected.”
“Different good?” I lean in, smirking. I must be a glutton for punishment, flirting with my best friend’s girl.
She fiddles with the straw in her water glass, avoiding my gaze. “Let’s just say if our trope went from captor to lover, I would not be mad.”
