Clear

Clear: Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Always Use Protection

3PM was on the display, and I immediately put my work computer to sleep. My purse was slung around my shoulder and I fervidly waved bye to Renee before jogging to Chris's open office door to do the same. My coworkers looked confused and worried, but I wasn't going to stop and explain that I was rushing out to go dust off my cowgirl boots.

I barreled into my apartment and stared at the microwave clock.

3:20PM.

"I didn't piss you off today, right?!" I shouted at Cinna Buns, scrambling around my apartment to make sure there were no more gifts, in the shapes of nuggets, sprinkled around.

The hair stood on her back as my cleaning rampage went on around her. The place was relatively clean, but I needed to feng shui the boxes in a way that didn't make me look like I still hadn't done a thing. Knowing him, he would ask why I was still unpacked, and I wanted zero distractions from the mission. I barely had that much from my old apartment with Greta, so why have I been so apathetic about organizing my space?

My paranoia was in full swing as I mapped out how much time left I had to prepare for his visit.

"Why, dammit, why?!" I screeched, as I searched through my bathroom supplies.

I had fifteen minutes to get to the store, buy what I needed, and stay on time.

You bet your sweet ass, I know what time management means.

*

Of course, the lines at the self-checkout were unusually long. Sure, I could have assumed that he would bring what I left my apartment for, but because I could never be too sure, I scanned the barcode to a box full of latex.

Dashing back to my place, I glanced at the microwave's time and realized that I had ten minutes till. I was in the bathroom scrambling through my makeup bag. My little cat was sitting on the toilet and peering at me, possibly probably waiting for an explanation as to why her food and water bowl had been relocated into the bathroom.

It's just temporary, Cinna.

"Don't poke yourself..." I chanted to myself with my eyes wide open.

The mascara brush flew away from my face when I heard a vibration on the sink counter.

I snatched up my phone and read the text from Ezra, "What size blouse do you wear?"

My brows were together when I replied, "Small or medium. It depends... why???"

I waited for his usual prompt response, but many seconds had passed by and there was nothing, until I heard the soft knocks. I was tempted to run to the door and yank it from its hinges, but I kept my cool and quietly approached it. After tugging at the knob, there was an instant smile on my face.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Young," he greeted.

There was no smile on his face, and his lazy eyes were examining me in full again.

"Afternoon...Please, come in," I sweetly insisted, before he took his time to step inside.

Trying not to appear desperate, I didn't rush to close the door and secure the latch. Turning around, I saw Ezra's back while he casually ventured further into my apartment- his hands in his pockets. I demurely followed after him, much more nervous than I wanted to be.

I observed him carefully while he lifted and turned his as he surveyed the space around us. It wasn't until I was near that he returned his attention. The excitement of seeing his eyes on me put my nerves into a frenzy, and I could feel the intensity rise from my stomach into my chest.