“Right,” I murmured, still chuckling until a few moments later I heard the toilet flush, and the bathroom door banged open after a few more moments.
“You’re out of hand soap,” he stated gruffly, navy blue, striking eyes flicked to my confused ones, knowing I had soap in there as he damn near stalked through my apartment. Brushing past us, he mumbled, “It was a pleasure, Ms. Farrow.” He opened my door, barking over his shoulder, “Let’s go, Elder Jacobs. I’m starving.” Then, he was marching out of my apartment.
Yes, charming.
Elder Jacobs cleared his throat, and then peered back me. “‘Usually’ is a loose term, of course.” His head tilted toward me, his gaze hardening in an instant. “And, Ms. Farrow, don’t think you’re off the hook by what you told us. What you are is no indication of who you are.” Yellow brows quirked, and he slowly straightened while I kept even eye contact with him. And he smiled. Gracefully. “It was a pleasure.”
I murmured the same, not meaning it any more than he did, and calmly shut and locked my door after he also left. Then, I turned on my heel and went to check the bathroom. I glanced about the sink, seeing the hand soap clearly where it should be, right in plain sight. My head cocked, eyebrows furrowing, as I glanced at the bottom of the bottle, noticing…a tiny yellow edge under it. Lifting the soap bottle, I saw a folded up piece of paper.
I blinked and picked it up, unfolding the precise edges until it unfolded to a small, creased, yellow sheet of paper. On it was a very messy scrawl of masculine handwriting, the note message itself very short. It read:
Our morning could have gone better. My shock is gone from my first “varied” lover. If you are interested in something casual and discreet, call me.
Shock widened my eyes, making me re-read the note three times making sure I was reading his handwriting correct, but it was desire, an allure for someone who I never would have imagined, that had my body warming.
Chapter Three
Pathetic.
I was fucking pathetic. I didn’t even make the damn three day rule. It was two days after I read the note, on a Thursday evening after work. I knew the Prodigies had some sort of function at King Hall and wouldn’t be dropping by unannounced, so I had dug Elder Merrick’s—what the hell was I doing?—number from my purse, and dialed from my apartment phone I rarely ever used. Holding it gripped tight in my fingers, listening to it ring, my heartbeat going crazy, even a fine sheen of sweat dotting my brow, I was second guessing myself with each new ring in my ear.
“Hello?” a gravelly voice over the line stated. Him, his voice, but I could hear multiple people in the background.
I sucked in a harsh breath, pausing for a long moment, wondering if I should just hang up, but then I blurted, “Can you talk?” Hopefully, he recognized my voice, like I did his.
There was an extended pause over the line, and then, “Give me a second.” I heard his voice muffled, as if he had placed his hand over the receiver, stating, “I’ll be back in a second, and no, I don’t agree with you. That action is too extreme.” Nibbling on my lip, I heard a slight uproar at his comment, and possibly someone saying “King Townsend”—the Shifter King in this day and age—meaning he was in some type of a meeting. The voices quieted a few moments later, and hearing what sounded like a few doors shut, he eventually stated, “I’m good to talk now.”
My mouth flapped a few times, now that I had called him, not quite sure what to say, but I eventually babbled, “I’m game for casual and discreet.” Although, in all honesty, I really didn’t even know what “casual” meant. Discreet, now that I could do.
“Alright,” he murmured, and it sounded like he was shuffling the phone around. “I don’t have your file with me,” I had an actual file now with them? “so I’ll need your number.”
“Oh…um.” I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at the little slip of paper I had put there with the phone number I had been given under a tiny piece of plastic. I read it off to him, then put the phone back to my ear. “Did you get that?”
Distracted words. “You don’t even know your own phone number.” I really didn’t know what to say to that, so I kept quiet, abnormally nervous, but it sounded like he was shuffling the phone around again. “Yeah, I got it down.” The sound stopped shifting, so he must have quietened shuffling the phone, asking, “You work from eight to three-thirty, right?”
I didn’t even ask how he knew that. “Yes.”
“Okay, well I’m normally in a meeting until about five or six, and sporadically in the evenings.” He hummed quietly. “What did you have in mind?”
I blinked. Stared blankly at the refrigerator across from me. Blinked again, realizing he wanted some type of plan. Fucking on a schedule. Alright. Made sense, I guess, with his lifestyle. “Um,” I licked my lips, “I’m free tonight, and any other time this week. I have a feeling my weekends are going to be full. And I only have a couple of days out of the month were I have to stay late for inventory checks.”
I heard a light methodical tapping in the background. “How about Tuesdays and Thursdays around eight until either of us changes our mind?”
God, this was all very normal, like we were scheduling an appointment, but it worked I guess, that way no one was popping up unannounced. “Your place or mine?”
More of the tapping, like he was bopping a pencil on a desk as he thought before he stated candidly, “It has to be your place this week since I have some company in town, and it would be too much to get you in and out of here unseen.” A pause. “And depending on the individuals Elder Jacobs has watching you, I might be a few minutes late or early, to slip in during their switch.”
Yep. I had seen my tails a few times in the past two days. “That works for me.”
“I’ll see you around eight tonight.” And, he hung up.
“Bye,” I mumbled to dead air, hanging my own phone up, then rushed off to take a shower. An odd…girlie…feeling rustled around inside my belly. I was feeling a little off-balanced by my reaction to him, again, second guessing my actions, wondering if I shouldn’t be ignoring him as I had been doing in 2035, but that didn’t stop me from making sure my legs were shaved nice and neat under the hot spray.
My blinds were drawn, having done that even before I called him, I had debated a few outfits, then mentally shrugged and put on a pair of holey jeans and a t-shirt, not sure what to expect, and was brushing my teeth after dinner when a knock came at my door at 7.50. I quickly spat, wiping my mouth off, then hurried to the door, checking out the peephole. I breathed a bit shakily, but hurried to open the door with a steady hand.
Elder Merrick slipped inside quickly, a slight scowl on his face, his thick lashes dusting over his remarkable eyes as he quickly shut the door, stating, “Next time, leave it unlocked for me.”
“Alright,” I murmured, blinking at him a bit.
He ran a hand over his face, appearing a bit off-balanced himself, and then muttered, “I apologize. This,” he flicked a finger between the two of us, “is still new to me.”
“I understand,” I stated calmly, then glanced about my—clean—apartment, and ran my own hand over my face. “And this,” I flicked a finger between him and me, “is new to me, too. I’m honestly not sure what casual means, and what,” my hands fluttered a bit, my gaze peering anywhere but at him, already off kilter because his heat was wrapping around me again, “happens…when you’re casual. One night of fun and even a committed relationship, I know.” I shook my head. “But casual, I’m unfamiliar with.”
I peeked at his face, and saw his brows draw together before he asked, “You were in a committed relationship and you never had sex before?”