Page 19 of Bad Run

Lance

Past

Fucking hell, she’s gorgeous.

Disarmingly so. Gwen is the Greek witchy goddess Circe come to life, brewing some sort of magic that has me revealing my deepest, darkest secrets.

Unsure of where to look now that I’ve shared something so personal, I stare into the distance.

“I like flowers,” she whispers.

I face the woman beside me, and our gazes collide. Once again, she strikes me with her beauty like an unsuspecting punch to the gut.

Gwen has the most exquisite aqua eyes I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how, but even in the dark they sparkle like stars.

The wind picks up and sends her tendrils whirling, proving that she does in fact like flowers. A powdery floral aroma fills my nose, making me dizzy and my mouth water. I don’t know where the scent is coming from; it could be her perfume or her shampoo, but whatever it is, it’s intoxicating.

Reminiscent of home and simultaneously evocative of sex.

She shudders, and damn, I wish I had my coat on for her to wear. The idea of her wearing my jacket makes my chest uncomfortably tight.

She’s wearing a sexy, short, black leather miniskirt, black tights, black leather boots that go to her knees, and a light-colored sweater that hangs off her shoulder and exposes a sliver of her midriff. Not very warm for a November night, but I won’t complain.

My cock jerks in agreement.

I should probably take her inside, but the greedy monster in me prefers to stay put and extend our moment alone. “We were onto things we hate, right?”

Gwen smiles, and my heart pinches, making my breath hitch. “Right.”

She easily lists five things she hates. Snakes, spiders, books that don’t have happy endings, when the bad guy gets away, and the board game Monopoly.

When it’s my turn, I surprise myself and spout off five things without thinking. Cockroaches, forgetting my pillow at home when I travel, running, when trees get cut down, and wildfires.

“Okay, now to make our friendship official, we need to tell each other one thing no one else knows. I’ll go first.” Gwen inhales sharply and looks around, making sure we are still out of view. “I have a box full of candles I never use because I don’t have the heart to tell my brother I don’t like them.”

Gwen says she hates candles, but what I really hear is that she doesn’t like hurting other people’s feelings, even at the expense of her own.

“I don’t own a TV,” I admit.

Gwen mock gasps. “You heathen. How can you not own a TV?”

Again, I burst out laughing. She’s definitely cast some freaky spell on me. I haven’t been this open and honest with anyone in ages. Not even my closest friends.

“It’s not my fault. The screen got cracked during a move, and I just never replaced it.”

“How long ago did you move?” she asks.

“Two years ago.” At my answer, Gwen throws her head back and laughs, and I swear it sounds like the chime of tinkling bells.

It’s fucking magical.

There’s something about her that makes me feel comfortable and seen.

“I was talking to my mom,” I blurt.

Her laughter dies and is replaced with confusion. “What?”

“Earlier. When I was on the phone. I was talking to my mom. She called to congratulate me.” Talking with my mother is never easy. Not because we don’t have a great relationship, but because of my father.