Monster in His Eyes
Page 27
"Grateful for what?"
"For you."
"Well, thank you," I say. "So how did I give away that I liked flowers? Did I wear a flowery shirt, or smell like roses or something one day?"
He laughs. "No, it was just a guess this time. Most women like flowers."
"I probably like them more than most," I say. "My mother grows flowers for a living."
"Is that right?" He sounds genuinely interested. There's a lot about men that I find attractive, but a man who actually listens is in an entirely different league.
"Yeah, so I sort of have a soft spot for them, I guess. Makes me a little homesick."
"And where's home, anyway? The post office in Syracuse?"
I laugh, pushing my philosophy book aside to lie down. "Close enough. Home is… well, I don't know. We moved around a lot when I was growing up, so it's not really a place to me. It's more the people. Or the person, anyway."
"Your mother," he guesses. "The florist."
"Yes."
"I'll have to keep that in mind," he says. "I'm glad you like the flowers."
"They were a nice surprise." I stare at them on my desk. "I was starting to think maybe you forgot about me."
"Why would you think that?"
"I haven't heard from you," I say. "Haven't seen you."
"That's not from lack of remembering," he says. "I've been busy with work, but you've been on my mind. And you can see me any time you want, Karissa. Anytime. Just say the word and I'm yours."
"Tonight?" I whisper.
"How about right now?" he suggests. "I can be there in an hour."
My eyes dart to Melody, still fast asleep in her bed. "Can you make it two?"
"Whatever you want," he says. "I'll see you then."
He ends the call, and I set my phone back down, unable to fight the smile this time. It's building up inside of me to the point that I feel like I'm going to explode. I let out a silent scream, kicking my legs in my bed and clenching my fists, unable to contain it. I jump up and scan the room anxiously, grabbing my robe before jetting to the bathroom, careful not to wake Melody.
I shower, and scour, and shave, and stress, the giddiness making me edgy. I stay under the hot spray until my fingertips prune. Getting out, I slather on lotion, making every inch of my body silky smooth, coated with a touch of fragrance. Heading back into the room, robe on, towel on my head, I find Melody sitting up in her bed, awake again, searching through her bag.
"Hey," she says without even looking up at me. "Paul called, wants to meet up. Our next classes are side-by-side."
"Really?"
"Yeah, isn't that something?" she says, smiling. "So we're going to walk to class together and then get some dinner afterward."
"Awesome."
"You wanna come with?" She raises her eyebrows as she casts her eyes at me. "Would be nice to get something not out of a can or from the dining hall."
"Yeah, I'll pass this time," I say. "Thanks, though."
"You sure?"
"Positive. You and Paul have fun."
She stands up, grabbing her things and getting them together. "Well, let me know if you change your mind and we'll meet up somewhere, okay?"
"Okay."
I won't change my mind, but I don't tell her that, relieved I won't have to try to explain why I'm getting dressed to leave in the middle of the afternoon. I know I should tell her the truth—I'm breaking every rule my mother ever taught me and violating the friendship code by sneaking out like this. Always make sure someone knows who you're with and what you're doing, how they can find you, and never—ever—go somewhere without a friend knowing. It's an unspoken pact, one I've violated again and again, and I don't even know why.
But I can't say anything.
I'm not ready to tell anyone.
There's something thrilling, something chilling, about having something that's all mine. I've lived a life of secrecy since I was born, a life of uncertainty because of my mother's quirky ways, but this is another level I can't even explain. It's having a different world to step into, a world so much unlike my own—a world where I'm not just another person… I'm a treasure.
He makes me feel like the sun, the world revolving around me, and I'm not ready to invite any others into our universe.
Naz is my very own knight, fearless and chivalrous, although I suspect his shining armor may be concealing a bit of darkness.
Instead of putting me on guard, that thought intrigues me.
I throw on jeans and a soft pink sweater, grabbing a scarf to finish off the outfit, and take time to fix my hair, leaving it down and wavy. I put on makeup, swiping lipstick the same shade as my sweater on my lips. Once I'm ready, I grab my purse, making sure I have my keys and ID and phone on me before heading out.
I keep my head down, not wanting to run into anyone and be delayed. I go outside, walking around the corner to the parking garage just as the black Mercedes pulls in.
Perfect timing.
I don't give him time to get out and open my door for me, climbing in beside him right away. He's dressed as usual, black suit, dark tie, his hair a sexy wave. He hasn't shaved, his facial hair thicker today than I've seen it before. The masculine scent of his cologne fills the car.
"For you."
"Well, thank you," I say. "So how did I give away that I liked flowers? Did I wear a flowery shirt, or smell like roses or something one day?"
He laughs. "No, it was just a guess this time. Most women like flowers."
"I probably like them more than most," I say. "My mother grows flowers for a living."
"Is that right?" He sounds genuinely interested. There's a lot about men that I find attractive, but a man who actually listens is in an entirely different league.
"Yeah, so I sort of have a soft spot for them, I guess. Makes me a little homesick."
"And where's home, anyway? The post office in Syracuse?"
I laugh, pushing my philosophy book aside to lie down. "Close enough. Home is… well, I don't know. We moved around a lot when I was growing up, so it's not really a place to me. It's more the people. Or the person, anyway."
"Your mother," he guesses. "The florist."
"Yes."
"I'll have to keep that in mind," he says. "I'm glad you like the flowers."
"They were a nice surprise." I stare at them on my desk. "I was starting to think maybe you forgot about me."
"Why would you think that?"
"I haven't heard from you," I say. "Haven't seen you."
"That's not from lack of remembering," he says. "I've been busy with work, but you've been on my mind. And you can see me any time you want, Karissa. Anytime. Just say the word and I'm yours."
"Tonight?" I whisper.
"How about right now?" he suggests. "I can be there in an hour."
My eyes dart to Melody, still fast asleep in her bed. "Can you make it two?"
"Whatever you want," he says. "I'll see you then."
He ends the call, and I set my phone back down, unable to fight the smile this time. It's building up inside of me to the point that I feel like I'm going to explode. I let out a silent scream, kicking my legs in my bed and clenching my fists, unable to contain it. I jump up and scan the room anxiously, grabbing my robe before jetting to the bathroom, careful not to wake Melody.
I shower, and scour, and shave, and stress, the giddiness making me edgy. I stay under the hot spray until my fingertips prune. Getting out, I slather on lotion, making every inch of my body silky smooth, coated with a touch of fragrance. Heading back into the room, robe on, towel on my head, I find Melody sitting up in her bed, awake again, searching through her bag.
"Hey," she says without even looking up at me. "Paul called, wants to meet up. Our next classes are side-by-side."
"Really?"
"Yeah, isn't that something?" she says, smiling. "So we're going to walk to class together and then get some dinner afterward."
"Awesome."
"You wanna come with?" She raises her eyebrows as she casts her eyes at me. "Would be nice to get something not out of a can or from the dining hall."
"Yeah, I'll pass this time," I say. "Thanks, though."
"You sure?"
"Positive. You and Paul have fun."
She stands up, grabbing her things and getting them together. "Well, let me know if you change your mind and we'll meet up somewhere, okay?"
"Okay."
I won't change my mind, but I don't tell her that, relieved I won't have to try to explain why I'm getting dressed to leave in the middle of the afternoon. I know I should tell her the truth—I'm breaking every rule my mother ever taught me and violating the friendship code by sneaking out like this. Always make sure someone knows who you're with and what you're doing, how they can find you, and never—ever—go somewhere without a friend knowing. It's an unspoken pact, one I've violated again and again, and I don't even know why.
But I can't say anything.
I'm not ready to tell anyone.
There's something thrilling, something chilling, about having something that's all mine. I've lived a life of secrecy since I was born, a life of uncertainty because of my mother's quirky ways, but this is another level I can't even explain. It's having a different world to step into, a world so much unlike my own—a world where I'm not just another person… I'm a treasure.
He makes me feel like the sun, the world revolving around me, and I'm not ready to invite any others into our universe.
Naz is my very own knight, fearless and chivalrous, although I suspect his shining armor may be concealing a bit of darkness.
Instead of putting me on guard, that thought intrigues me.
I throw on jeans and a soft pink sweater, grabbing a scarf to finish off the outfit, and take time to fix my hair, leaving it down and wavy. I put on makeup, swiping lipstick the same shade as my sweater on my lips. Once I'm ready, I grab my purse, making sure I have my keys and ID and phone on me before heading out.
I keep my head down, not wanting to run into anyone and be delayed. I go outside, walking around the corner to the parking garage just as the black Mercedes pulls in.
Perfect timing.
I don't give him time to get out and open my door for me, climbing in beside him right away. He's dressed as usual, black suit, dark tie, his hair a sexy wave. He hasn't shaved, his facial hair thicker today than I've seen it before. The masculine scent of his cologne fills the car.
