Swept Away

Chapter 18

so it's been a couple months..?

u n e d i t e d

I think someone up there hated me.

It had been less than 48 hours since our accidental... fondling session yet here I was in the same place-- my kitchen-- absolutely melting as a result of Zion's unfortunate charm and disarming good looks. My only hope was that as he gently massaged the balm into my wrist that my face wasn't that red. As in-- on a scale of tickle me pink to fire truck red I was sincerely hoping I was somewhere between pink and I don't know... salmon?

"Munchkin?"

I blinked, "Huh?"

He arched a perfectly dark eyebrow, "Why are you mummbling and rammbling like a Crayola coloring box come to life?"

So much for hope right?

"Uh, I don't know... what you're um... talking... about."

"Sure you don't."

I hated him. I hated that surely tone. I hated those onyx eyes, his smooth voice, and broad shoulders and... hate. Right hate. Hate, hate, hate.

His rough thumbs drew cirlces on my wrist and with every stroke I was amazed to see my branding fade, and mortified to feel my pulse speed up a little more under his fingertips. I was mortified that all he had to do was touch me-- touch my freaking wrist-- to completely disarm me. I'm surprised I didn't go into cardiac arrest the other night... the other night... My eyes flitted over to where I stood when he... Ugh. I couldn't think about this not now.

I tried to take deep breaths. I searched my mind for anything I had learned in biology that I could use to keep my heart from pounding right out of my chest.

It was deafeningly silent for a few more painful mintues proceding our exchange . I could've heard a fly fart I swear. But once he opened his mouth again I though, maybe I shoulda been more thankful for the silence.

I guess he followed my gaze because I found myself staring into my eyes as I brought my attention back to where I was now. The smirk on his face and the way he slide his gaze over to the counter he had me pressed up against a few nights ago suggested he knew exactly what was on my mind.

"We never really finished what we--

My eyes whipped back to see him with a rougish smile dancing along his lips and a cheeky spark in his eyes, "Usually people tend not to talk about those kind of things."

"And you would know how?"

I scoffed slightly indignant, "I'll have you know I've had my fair share of boyfriends."

This was true, I had had my fair share of boyfriends and fleating highschool relationships. Zion hadn't been my first kiss, maybe the first guy to make me feel like every single nerve ending in my body was exploding, sure-- but for the sake of my sanity I could easily overlook that. I had been emotionally worn out that night, not to mention hungry and tired and pathetically needy. The fact that I felt so shaken and... stirred by his actions was probably just a result of the horrendous combination.

He hummed a nonverbal response, the slight crinkle in the corner of his mouth and the tiny curve of the left side of his mouth told me he was trying not to laugh.

"What's that supposed to mean? What's so funny?" I inquired huffily snatching my wrist away from him.

"Nothing, nothing."

"Ugh whatever."

Changing the topic I asked, "So I just... apply it to my brand thingy?"

Turning the thing around in my hands, it was a simple shiny black jar, smooth and cool to the touch.