“Cups?” he sternly asks again.
“That drawer behind your ass holds coffee cups.” Leaning back on my hands, I watch him move around my small galley-like kitchen and making coffee like it’s a normal thing to do.
“Isn’t it too late for coffee?” I ask him as he passes me a cup. I take it and look inside.
“No sugar? No milk?” I ask.
“You don’t take sugar or milk, little bird.”
I freeze as a dead panic washes over me.
“You know this h-h-how?” I stutter out as bad memories start to flood me. This was the first thing he said to me the first time we meet at a little coffee shop on the corner offering me a coffee with no sugar, no milk, claiming he asked the waitress and she told him.
Over time and with the abuse, I realized he had been watching me for a long time. I knew this was bad, I felt it. I should listen to my stomach and not the bad angel on my shoulder. That bitch got us in trouble the last time a sexy guy was plopped in front of us, where the good angel packed her bag and went on vaccay permanently, yet to return.
“Wow, little bird, where have you gone?” 81 steps into my space his hand on my shoulder pulling me back into the now. I look down and my hands are shaking as I pull the cup to my lips.
I shrug turning my gaze away from him. "Nowhere."
“Don’t lie.” His raspy voice is colder now.
“I wasn’t,” I said, not meeting his gaze.
“Little bird, I’m not like most men and I see shit. I know you just went somewhere dark. I have the same moments where ghosts rise up and nightmares take hold.” Looking into his eyes this time I see a dark pooling at the edges.
“Well, we all have secrets, right?” He just nods putting the coffee cup to his lips and groaning as the liquid slides down his throat. I watch him as his eyes close and he just enjoys the warm liquid. He must enjoy coffee as much as I do.
“I’d say you’re gonna be okay now,” he says his eyes open, looking into mine. He places his cup down
“And what makes you think I’m not ok?” I ask him placing my own cup down to the side of me as he steps toward me.
“Because your eyes don’t lie, little bird, they tell a story. Oh, and I’m here now.” His body steps closer to me, I can feel heat radiating off of him and I can’t even register a thought to respond back to him. His hands go to each side of me, boxing me in. Fear ripples over me as his eyes burn into mine - I hate feeling closed in and vulnerable.
“What-t-t-t are you d-d-d-doing,” I stutter again. This has to be the most unattractive, newfound trait of mine to date. He licks his lips as his head moves dangerously close to my neck.
“Just grabbing dinner, babe.” His hand reaches behind me and picks up the takeout box. Turning, he begins to dig through my drawers and cupboards plating up my dinner for him also.
“Didn’t realize this was a dinner date, 81,” I say as he slides his hands onto my hips, picks me up and swings me from the bench. Striding over to the small, two-person table by the open window, he sits me down on the seat, he kisses the top of my head.
“Well, if that’s what ya want it to be, little bird, that’s what it is.” He turns and walks back to the kitchen. I look out the window to the dark night and smile like what else is there to do. Taking in a deep breath, I allow myself to just have this one night of being, well, the old me before all the pain began.
Chapter Twelve
81
I wake in the morning to the sun splintering through the open window right in my face. I scrub my hands over my eyes and stretch out my unbooted foot which grazes over something warm. I snap my eyes open and I see that it’s the little lady who has taken up resident inside my fucking brain, more so than any other in years. Hannah was the last women that I actually thought of all the time, and still do, but this beautiful little bird is slowly taking thoughts of Hannah out of my mind and replacing the angry with new, happy shit.
The last thing I remember from last night is dinner, Jameson, and a movie. I don’t do that shit, ever. I didn’t even watch movies with Hannah. That’s saying something. We must have fallen asleep because she’s laying at the end of her couch her feet over mine on the table. The blanket has fallen. Her beautiful skin is on show with the morning light shining on the pristine white of her skin. Her black undies are lace and stunning. A groan ripples up from below, deep in my belly, as my mind goes to ripping them off between my teeth exposing her flesh underneath. My cock also agrees at the image assaulting my mind because he springs to life and I need to move now before I allow my hands, tongue, and mouth to do shit she’s nowhere near ready for.
Getting up from the couch, I place her legs from the table lightly onto the couch, so she is lying a little more comfortable. I then pull the blanket up over her body. I seek out the bathroom, it is not hard to find as there are only two doors in this place. One being the front door and the other the bathroom. Flicking on the water in the basin, I scrub cold water over my face, washing away the heat of wanting to do bad things to her body - marking her and making her mine.
I don’t do mine.
Not after Hannah. I promised I wouldn’t, but shit, this little bird has become one hell of a game changer.
Sitting in the chair across from her sleeping body, I sip my coffee watching her, imagining a life with her, and that scares me. She’s different, she’s not from my world. She wouldn’t even know how to deal with half the crap that my world throws our way. Each and every one of us that have ever got close to anyone, shits gone bad and fast. Like Bray and Raven. She was taken and now look, she’s back and so fucking high she doesn’t even know who the fuck she is.
Ghost and Timberly, she got taken also, only to come back broken and lost. Jenna tried to kill him for loving a woman that wasn’t, well her. Blue, she had the same shit just in a different country. She had a crazed, whack job come all the way back after she escaped to fuck her up. He did and then she held the upper hand and cut his fucking head off. Knox stayed, but he has demons just as dark. Now me. There is me and Hannah. She’s the only women I have ever loved. Like actually loved. I don’t even love the bitch that claims she’s my mother. But Hannah, even now she takes my breath away and she’s a fucking ghost.
