what’s been impressed into my black heart.
I didn’t make this decision because of what
Aaron said. I don’t take orders from anyone. I’m
the one who decided. It’s better for everyone,
before the situation gets out of control.
As I head back to my place behind the counter, I
can sense I’m being watched. I feel naked.
Literally. As if someone were taking x-rays with
their eyes and imagining something that could
never happen.
I turn just in time to catch her in the act, while
she recovers from that dreamy image she had just a
second ago, then she abruptly turns back to her
book.
I blink repeatedly. My throat goes dry. My legs
feel paralyzed and my hands start shaking.
Why am I reacting like this? Why would a
woman’s stare affect me so? I should be used to it
by now.
The problem is it’s notsome woman’sstare.
Hell no.
It’s her and her damned hazelnut eyes, so sweet,
so intense and damned good, just like she is.
And me, in contrast to that, I’m anything but
sweet and good and I’m far from anything like
what a man of thirty years old should be. I’m too
old to be living like a teenager who doesn’t give a
shit about anything.
Because now, and I’m damned for it, I’ve found
something that’s important to me.
