the opposite direction of Parsons now, and I think he’s aiming for Lick n’ Crunch a few blocks away—a mom-and-pop shop that sells the best soft-serve ice cream in Seattle.
The thought of getting ice cream with Zade is so normal and mundane that it
feels like the most exciting thing to happen since sliced bread. And watching Zade lick an ice cream cone will probably be just as weird as it will be hot.
“So toothpaste?”
I sigh. “Et tu, Brute? It’s not toothpaste. They taste nothing alike.”
A grin tips up one side of Zade’s mouth, and his eyes glitter as he pulls into
the parking lot. The bastard of a man is just trying to get a rise out of me.
“It’s toothpaste,” he reaffirms, though I’m not sure if he actually believes that.
He looks too damn mischievous, but I can't help arguing anyway.
I unbuckle and swivel toward him, my eyes thinning.
“Mint is a delicacy, and you’re just a simpleton incapable of appreciating it.”
He laughs outright, putting the car in park. Mint is definitely not a delicacy—
quite the opposite, actually—but I’m sticking with it.
“Are you saying I need to refine my food palette?”
“Obviously,” I answer dryly.
He leans in close, the leather groaning beneath his weight, and my breath hitches, all my senses invaded by the pure intensity that shrouds this man. His scent envelopes me, causing me to stiffen as his lips scarcely brush the side of my jaw.
“Your pussy is a delicacy, baby, and I could eat it forever and never grow tired of the taste of you. Is that refined enough?”
A flush crawls up my neck, burning a path to my cheeks, while my mouth opens in shock. I’m entirely embarrassed by the traitorous squeak that breaks free from my throat, only causing my cheeks to grow hotter. He chuckles, then he’s out of the car in the next blink. I glance around, trying to locate where my
heart fell out of my ass.
Surely that’s the only explanation of why I feel so empty now that he’s gone.
Or the asshole took it with him.
I sigh.
That’s definitely what happened.
Daylight savings is approaching, relieving the world of its depressive claws.
Something about the sun setting before five in the afternoon really puts a damper
on your day.
It’s still cold outside, yet we’re sitting on a bench outside of Lick n’ Crunch, people-watching and shivering my ass off while I slowly eat my dessert.
Zade got a mint chocolate chip cone for himself, and he smiled wider than the
damn Cheshire Cat when I just stared at him.
“My entire world revolves around you. If you want mint chocolate chip, then
that’s what I want, too,” he had said.
“Do you even like it?”
“I like you, does that count?”
“No.”
He just went and sat down, a satisfied look on his face as he lapped up the sweet cream. He doesn’t appear disgusted, and I admit that I’ve spent half of my time trying to figure out if he’s fucking with me or if he truly does like the flavor.
I still haven’t figured that out.
Shooting him a narrow-eyed look when he catches me staring and winks, I
turn away before he can see the smile threatening to curl my lips.
People are bundled up in their coats, bustling down the street and in and out
of shops.
My attention snags on a person walking down the road. They have masculine
features and are dressed in a big poofy purple dress. Then I do smile. My mother
would turn her nose up at the eccentrics in Seattle, but I’ve always admired their
confidence and ability to be comfortable with who they are.
“I hope they’re happy,” I murmur. When Zade looks at me curiously, I nod towards the individual in the purple dress. “This world can be so cruel. So, I hope they’re happy.”
Zade is quiet for a beat. “Happiness is fleeting. All that matters is that they’re living their life the way they want to.”
“You believe that?” I ask, facing him. “That happiness is fleeting?”
He shrugs, tossing the last bite of his cone into his mouth, and chews as he contemplates something.
“Absolutely,” he says finally. “It’s not something solid you can hold on to. It’s
vapor in the wind, and all you can do is inhale it when it’s near and hope it comes around again when it blows away.”
I nod, having to agree with that.
Shivering, I eat the last of my cone, the icy breeze stirring up my hair, sending the tendrils dancing. Zade catches them and gathers my hair until it’s lying straight down my back. I can’t help but tense, though I don’t stop him from whatever he’s doing. He removes his leather jacket and wraps it around me, trapping my flyaway hair beneath the heavy warmth.
“Thank you,” I whisper, bundling further into the jacket, overcome with
emotion for a reason I can’t explain. His jacket smells of leather, spice, and a hint of smoke, and as I inhale his comforting scent, tears burn the backs of my eyes.
Maybe because this is the best I’ve felt in so long, and that kind of makes me
want to cry.
He gives me a soft smile, his mismatched orbs bright. Even the scar slashing
down his white eye can’t take away from how at peace he looks right now.
“You’re welcome, baby.”
My heart thuds, and I finally recognize why I feel so emotional.
Turning back to watch the city, I lean my head on his shoulder and inhale deeply.
This happiness may be fleeting, but I’ve never been surer that it’ll be back
Chapter 25
The Diamond
“Can I take you somewhere?” Zade asks. I’ve just stepped out of the
bathroom from my shower, yanking a brush through my wet, tangled hair. I tear
the bristles through a particularly brutal knot, uncaring of the way the strands tear.
“Baby, you’re hurting your hair. Let me brush it.”
Feeling defeated, I slump my shoulders, trudge over to him, and sit on the floor between his spread knees.
He takes the brush from me and gently starts running it through the sopping
tresses, slowly detangling the mop on my head.
It feels nice, but I’m too tired to appreciate it.
Another two weeks have passed, and it’s a constant up and down battle. Turns
out, one of the men did give me chlamydia, and it only cemented that feeling of
filth ingrained deep in my bones.