This freedom of choice.
As important as it is that he wants her too. He really wants her. He doesn’t think she’s a mistake, and suddenly, everything sinks in.
Everything settles in my bones, the relief, that I feel dizzy.
I feel it so much that I stumble.
But he doesn’t let me fall.
Like last night, he’s there to catch me. He’s there to put his hands on my waist to steady me. Not only that, he also picks me up and puts me down on the island.
“Are you okay? Are you… are you going to be sick?” he asks, his warm hands holding me tightly, keeping me grounded.
Without really thinking about it, I move closer to the warmth. I latch onto it with my fingers, grabbing onto his forearm and trying to breathe.
And I get a whiff of that scent again.
That scent which calms down my stomach, and I whisper, “What is that?”
“What?”
“T-that scent. It…” I swallow and dig my nails in his forearms. “It makes me…”
“Makes you what?” he asks, a thick frown between his brows. “What the fuck is going on, Fae? You want me to —”
I steal his words by fisting his t-shirt and pulling him close. I bury my nose in his chest and breathe him in, moaning, “Oh God.”
He cradles the back of my head, his chest swelling and contracting against my burrowed-in face. “What —”
I cut him off again, this time with words though. “What is that scent?”
His fingers flex on my waist. “What scent?”
I look up at him. “That scent. Coming from you. Your t-shirt. It makes me feel better. I know it’s not your regular scent.”
“What’s my regular scent?”
I nuzzle my nose in his hard, heated chest first before replying, “Wildflowers and woods.”
He’s offended, his chest vibrating with his words. “I smell likeflowers.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Bullshit.”
I can’t believe I want to laugh when my body is rebelling against me, even though his scent and his heat have helped a little, but I do. I also want to tease him a little bit more so biting my lip, I tell him, “You do. It’s like super sweet and —”
“Yeah, let’s not talk about it.”
“What, boys can smell like flowers.”
“Your brothers tell you that?”
“They can also twirl, Reed,” I tell him primly.
He squeezes me slightly, his eyes liquid. “Thanks for all the information, Fae.”
“You’re welcome.” I nod, my lips trembling with an oncoming smile. “Oh, and it’s okay for them to taste like cupcakes. Like you do.”
