Silent, I shake my head. Her hand hovers as she glances up at me, our eyes locking together. She’s not much shorter than I am, but her heels add at least a few inches to her height. I pull my gaze away to her heart-shaped face. Perfectly plump, pink lips purse as she looks back down, the shining curtain of black hair falling to hide her face.
Clearing my throat, I lift my sleeve up for her to inspect. “Have at it.”
Have at it?
For the first time in fucking years, my cheeks darken with a flush of embarrassment. Thankfully she doesn’t notice, lifting my sleeve and turning it to see the tear. “Did you run up against a bear?”
The quiet humor in her voice has my lips twitching. “An angry nail. Not quite as exciting, I’m afraid.”
She gifts me with a quick smile that creases her cheeks before resuming her examination. “You mind taking this off so I can get to the underneath?”
Fuck, yes.
She steps back, waiting as my fingers move to the buttons on my jacket, slipping them open. And as I’m watching her, a faint blush of color spreads across the faintly tanned skin of her own cheeks before she looks away.
Beautiful.
“What’s your name?” I ask roughly, shrugging out of the jacket. When I turn back, she’s eyeing me with slight suspicion.
“Briar.” She points to the wall behind her, where it’s written in scrawling calligraphy against the green paint.
Briar Rose Designs.
“Briar Rose.” I taste the words on my tongue. It’s a pretty name. Unusual.
Likeher.
Swallowing, I hold out the jacket, realizing she’s standing there waiting for me with her eyebrows slightly raised. “Uh. Here you go. I’m River.”
Her hesitation disappears, replaced by a small smile as she points to the armchair in the corner. “Well, River. It shouldn’t take me too long. If you take a seat, I can grab you a coffee?”
My tongue unsticks from the roof of my mouth. “That would be great.”
I retreat to the relative protection of the ridiculously pink, frilly chair. When I sink down, my ass disappears into it, my knees nearly hitting my chin as I fold in half. “Christ—,”
“I’m so sorry.” Briar is definitely laughing at me as she turns away, busying herself with draping my jacket over an empty mannequin in the middle of the floor. “It’s quite deep. I should have said.”
No fucking shit. My ass has disappeared into Narnia.
I sip the ridiculously sweet coffee she makes me without a word, silently watching. Her movements are sure and steady, an ease about them that has me relaxing, despite the loss of my backside to a fictional world. “Have you had this place long? I didn’t know you were here.”
She glances over her shoulder, sleek dark brows drawing together. “About three years now.”
Briar turns away again, and I fight the urge to get jealous over my own damn jacket. “Are you busy?”
Her shoulders stiffen the smallest amount. “I get by.”
Something about my question upset her.
“Hey,” I lower my voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
I’m supposed to be the charming one, for fucks’ sake. But all of my thoughts are tangled up in my head. Tangled up with deep green eyes, midnight hair and a small, sweet smile.
She’d be perfect.
The thought slips in, and I shove it away immediately.
Not this girl. She’s too – tooprim. Too perfect. Too sweet for us. It’s written all over her, even if it feels like every filthy, depraved thought I’ve had over the last few weeks was just waiting for her to fill in the blanks.
