“Out!” I shout, and he opens the door.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you one. I know just the color.”
I throw the glass decanter of whiskey at the door as he pulls it shut with a laugh.
Damn.
That was good whiskey too.
We’re sitting outside of an older building with wrought-iron bars on the windows and ivy climbing up the stonework. It’s cute and out of place in a city that’s mostly glass and steel now.
There’s a sign in the shape of a tombstone that reads Graveyard Grind. I huff a laugh because I have a high enough body count to fill a graveyard.
“Perhaps you should go check his car, sir,” Bill suggests. We have been waiting for a few minutes. “He’s quite skittish.”
Maybe he’s waiting in his car because he’s scared to get out.
“Good idea.” I climb out of the car and try to look around casually, but I don’t see him. So I move around to the other side of the parking lot and there he is. He looks so nervous, and it’s clear he isn’t ready for this step. Brendan and his therapist arewrong. They’re pushing him too hard too fast. Slowly I approach his car from the front so he can see that it’s me.
Once he finally looks up, his face brightens and his shoulders relax. Then I walk around to his window which he rolls down.
“Hey, rabbit. Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I was just going to get some coffee.”
“I was craving some coffee. This was the closest spot, but I don’t know what’s good. Maybe you can tell me.”
“I can! My bestie works here, so I know all of the best drinks.”
“Perfect. Will you come in with me?”
“Okay.” He rolls up the window, turns off the car, and unbuckles his seatbelt. I open the door for him and see the stuffed bunny I got him all buckled in the passenger’s seat.
“Looks like you’re taking very good care of my gift.”
Rory blushes. “She’s very soft.” He reaches back into the car. “Oh! And I happen to have your gift.”
“Thank you. Should I open it now or wait?”
He shrugs and looks down at the ground, but he’s still smiling. So I open it now.
It’s a picture of him and the lantern, only it’s a drawing. He must have sketched and colored this just for me.
He looks so pretty and ethereal. I could stare at it all day.
“You don’t have to hang it up or anything. You said it was your favorite,” he defends, but then rushes to assure me. “But that doesn’t mean you want a picture of me?—”
“Thank you, rabbit.” I pull him into a hug. He stiffens but then relaxes into me, and I realize that this is it. Rory is mine even if I’m not sure what that means. He’s mine. “I love it.”
“Really?!” he asks excitedly, and my gaze drops to his lips. They are gorgeous. His teeth catch his bottom lip, and he looks down. Seems Rory isn’t ready for a kiss yet. Am I?
“I’ll put it on my desk at work.”
His smile brightens, and he says, “I’ve been meaning to ask. What do you do for work?”
Um… Fuck.
I point to the coffee shop in an effort to distract him.
