Leaving my coffee, I get up from my chair. Elias has gone back to work on the limes, but at my approach, he steps back again, deferential.
“Do you have chocolate?” I ask.
It takes a second for Elias to realize that I’m talking to him. His head comes up, giving me my first full view of his gorgeous face with its high cheekbones and sharp jawline. His complexion is darker now that it’s not bleached out by his screen light, but his eyes widen on me, briefly offering the same expression that’s practically burned into my memory.
“Uh, sure,” he answers as his head angles back down. “It’s in aisle—”
“Show me.”
Those dark eyes flick up from under the shaggy sweep of his hair. “Uh, sure,” he says again. “This way.”
I follow him down an aisle. I know what he expects because I know what I’m supposed to do, so it’s very easy to surprise him.
When he tries to turn, intending to say, “Here it is,” and leave, he can’t turn and he can’t leave—because I’m right behind him. He bumps into me and jolts. He jerks sideways, attempting another escape, but my arm is in his way, reaching for a chocolate bar.
“This one maybe?” I ask. Extreme Dark, the package says.
Elias’s breathing has shallowed. I can hear it. I can almostfeelit, I’m that close. Is he scared?
“That’s too dark for most people,” he says. I like his voice. It’s quiet but smooth and clear.
I wonder what he sounds like when he screams.
“Too dark for you?” I pitch my voice low. I lean close, too close—and Elias shivers.
“No.” His voice is breathy now. “That’s what I like.”
I close my eyes as my body rocks forward. I bump into him, and it breaks the spell. He jolts and ducks under my arm. He stands back and stares at me.
There’s no shy tilt to his head now, no deference. I’ve stripped that away. I’m glimpsing what lies beneath. Something raw and vulnerable and hungry.
But it doesn’t last. Elias swallows hard and lowers his eyes. “Is that … all?”
Not even close.“Yes. Thank you.”
Elias nods and hurries back to what he was working on. I walk to the register. As I wait in line, I feel Elias’s eyes on me. His gaze feels different from most. I enjoy it. I let him look. I let him think I’ve forgotten him.
When I’ve paid for the chocolate, I look back. Caught staring, Elias jumps, dropping a lime. As he’s scrambling for it, I slide the chocolate into my back pocket and pull out my phone. I’m already dialing Wes’s number as I open the door and walk out.
“Well?” Wes prompts when he answers. He knows I don’t like to chat. He tried, years ago, to get to know me. He was wary of me, didn’t trust me, wanted to understand me. But very few can truly understand me, and those few I prefer to avoid.
Wes, however, has at least come to understand how well I can function within a scenario. I just need a role to play, a box to put myself in.
So when I say, “I’ll do it. He can handle it,” I expect Wes to accept that.
But instead he asks, “Can you?”
My limits, however, are not up for discussion. They’re in my file, and that’s all Wes is going to get.
So he shouldn’t be fucking surprised when I hang up on him.
TWO
Elias
What on earth just happened?
I feel like I did something wrong, but I’m not sure what. Did I stand too close to that man? I can’t believe I bumped into him. He must have been so annoyed.
