Cold as Stone (Bonus Scenes)

Reunions

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

The smell of burnt food begins to linger in my small, studio apartment as I step out of the shower. Quickly, I wrap a towel around my soaking wet body and make a b-line for the oven.

As I open the oven door, a cloud of black smoke engulfs me.

"Oh, come on! I wanted to do one nice thing!" I know for a fact that my neighbors on the other side of the thin, kitchen wall can hear me screaming as I throw on an oven mitt and remove the, once good-looking, Beef Wellington that I thought would be easy to cook.

Throwing the pan in the sink, I grab my phone from the counter and check the time.

5:47 p.m.

Shit, he was going to be here any minute.

I scramble over to my wardrobe to find something suitable to put on.

"How does one dress for the guy you love but haven't seen in two weeks?" A stupid question, I was sure, but I haven't seen August since the day after my mother's funeral...when he told me he loved me.

His admission still makes my stomach fill with butterflies. It was in the way he said it, and the way his eyes lit up, even in the darkness of my room. He wasn't telling me during another heated, ridiculous argument; he was telling me as if it were just the two of us in the world.

Running my hand over the fabric hanging from the bar of my wardrobe, I smile to myself. "He's not going to care what you wear, Evelyn. He just wants to be with you." The reminder leaves my lips, and a blush takes over my cheeks.

I grab a simple, pale pink dress and shimmy into the light fabric. Eyeing up my underwear drawer, I smirk to myself as I pull out a white lace thong. There was no saying where the night would go, but with August, I could only hope it involved him worshipping my body.

Breaking me from my thoughts, a knock sounds at my door, and I swear, my heart rate skyrockets.

He's here.

I quickly run my fingers through my damp hair, attempting to look somewhat prepared. Taking another look at the burnt meal that's taunting me from my kitchen sink, a sigh passes over my lips.

So much for a nice, home-cooked meal.

I can barely contain my nerves as my hand lands on the doorknob. As I look through the peephole, my breath gets caught in my throat when I see him. He's dressed down in a pair of dark wash, denim jeans and a tight-fitting, white, button-up shirt - the sleeves rolled up just slightly. Better yet? He has a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door.

His eyes immediately light up when he sees me, and I bite my lip to try to mask the sheepish smile that's trying way too hard to take over. However, he isn't afraid to hide his own.

"Evelyn," he says my name as he takes a step closer to me, "thank you for inviting me over."

God, no. I might even like bashful August more than dominant August!

I can barely find the words to speak as he extends the bouquet for me to take. "These are for you. I hope they're not too...boring." He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Stop it, you fool. They're perfect," I say as I take the flowers from him. Our fingers brush, and I'm reminded of all of the times we've been together before. "Come in! And I'm sorry in advance for the smell...Apparently, cooking isn't my forte."

As I saunter over to the kitchen, the door clicks closed behind me. I quickly grab a vase from under the sink before filling it with water and plopping the flowers inside. My back faces August as I place them on the kitchen island, but no sooner than the glass hits the granite surface of my countertops are August's arms wrapped around me from behind.