Page 29 of Nora's Kraken

“Good night, Nora,” he says, deep voice still tinged with humor.

My own voice is hoarse when I take an unsteady step back and smooth out my skirt where it’s hitched up around my thighs. “Good night.”

He doesn’t leave right away. No, he reaches up and pushes back some of the damp hair that’s fallen forward over my face, cups my cheek for a moment, and gives me another crooked, provoking smile before he turns and heads back out into the rain. I’m still standing there, kiss-drunk and wobbly, when he stops right in the middle of the sidewalk, getting drenched, and calls back over his shoulder.

“I do hope you consider a second date with me, little siren. Because if that’s the only taste of you I ever get, I’m not sure I’ll survive.”

Fully unable to keep my knees solid enough to stay vertical, I slump against the alcove’s wall and stay there until he climbs back into his car and drives away.

10

Nora

Five days later, I’m still floating somewhere near the ceiling as I arrange a display of fantasy paperbacks at Tandbroz.

I can’t stop thinking about my date with Elias. In every quiet moment I’m not answering the phone or helping a customer or talking with a coworker, my mind wanders back to that exact same place.

And, unfortunately for me, the last couple of days in the store have been slow, so it’s given me plenty of time to think and obsess and daydream.

About Elias, about how even though the date had it’s rocky moments, it also had moments that have stuck with me for days. His patience, his kindness, the things he said about wanting to care for and protect me.

And that kiss… God. That kiss.

My face flames with the memory.

Did I embarrass myself with how much I wanted him, and how absolutely wild for him I got when he kissed me?

Elias seemed just as hungry as I was, just as eager, just as torn about ending our date and saying good night. With some time and hindsight, I’m glad he had enough sense to walk things back a little and slow us down, because I definitely wasn’t capable of it in that moment.

Cheeks going even redder, and endlessly thankful I’m the only one in the shop right now, I shake off my distraction and get back to the box of books I’m supposed to be restocking.

As I do I can’t help but pull my phone from my pocket and glance at it, feeling a tiny pang of disappointment when I see there are no new messages.

Elias and I have traded a few texts over the last couple of days, and made tentative plans to meet up this weekend.

Weird. Texting with my potential kraken mate is undeniably weird.

But also kind of wonderful, to have that fluttery feeling back in my chest, to flirt with him a little and feel embarrassingly like a teenager with a crush when I glance at my phone and see a message from him.

The rest of my worries haven’t gone away, not for a single second, but they’ve taken up a lot less real estate in my brain the past few days. I’m thankful for the reprieve, no matter how long it lasts.

Even if that means I’ve been a somewhat less-than-stellar Tandbroz employee this week.

It’s Thursday evening, and I’m working the closing shift alone. I usually don’t, but my coworker Mirabel was sick today and Ana, the owner, is still trying to balance new motherhood with business ownership, and I was the only one available to close.

It’s fine, really. Thursdays aren’t our busiest days and I’ve got enough on my mind to keep me plenty distracted as I bounce back and forth around the shop getting some evening tasks done. I’ve got just a couple hours until I lock up and head home, and I’m already looking forward to my next three days off. A whole long weekend, and hopefully one that includes seeing my kraken again.

I’m so distracted by those thoughts as I straighten out a few shelves near the front of the store that I take a full five seconds to process the person who’s just walked by the window. I see them out of the corner of my eye, and when something deep and instinctual pulls me to stop and turn to get a better look, I can’t fully comprehend what I’m seeing.

A head of dark brown hair. The briefest glimpse of a profile and the outline of a body I know well.

Far too well.

My heart hammers in my ears and the entire world narrows to that one glimpse.

Everything else is darkness and static, and my brain goes completely, horribly blank. When I blink a moment later, the person has already passed by the window, but I’m still frozen in place.

It isn’t. It can’t be. There’s no way it can be…

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