Scarlett
They slipped brisklyinto an intimacy from which they never recovered- F. Scott Fitzgerald
Ididn’t thinkRory could get any hotter.
Seeing him in the ring was pretty much tops for me. There’s nothing more primitive than a man who knows how to fight.
Seeing him with his weapons, and him showing me how to use them, well that was pretty hot too.
Seeing him as my hero when he emerged from that basement at Alexei’s, doing the thing that I couldn’t… it was something I’ll never forget.
But seeing him today, in nothing but a pair of ripped jeans and a tool belt around his waist… well I take back everything I said before.
This is the hottest.
And the best part is, the music is up so loud he didn’t even hear me come in. So I can just stand here for a minute to appreciate him in all of his glory as he hammers things and uses tools like a boss.
I set down the groceries and walk up behind him, sliding my hands around his waist and hugging him from behind.
“I could lose a finger if ye sneak up on me like that again,” he tells me when he turns down the music.
“Marry me.”
I can’t see his face, but I know he’s smiling.
It’s been a running joke between us over the last month. I ask him at least three times a day now. But his only response is to kiss me.
Today, though, he turns in my arms and hoists me up around his waist, kissing my neck.
“I have something for ye,” he says.
I must have a dirtier mind than he does because I’m disappointed when he walks down the hall and my present isn’t him.
He gestures to a bunch of boxes as he sets me down on his bed.
“The lads brought your stuff over today.”
“My stuff?” I ask. “Like from my apartment?”
“That’d be the stuff.” He nods.
I stare at the boxes and tap my fingers against my thigh. Rory’s watching me carefully, probably bracing for an epic tantrum since he knows how particular I am about said stuff.
But honestly, I forgot all about it. I haven’t been back there since Alexander was there.
I didn’t want to go back.
I’ve been buying new clothes, because it was easier. But it was a nice gesture, and I am glad I have some of my books and shoes.
“I had to get rid of a few books.” Rory approaches the subject like he’s disarming a bomb. “They were… well…”
“Covered in blood.”
“Aye.”
“So, you touched all my things,” I say. “You moved them, and packed them, and disheveled them.”
“Guilty as charged,” he says. And then, a little quieter, “so how bad is it?”
