Page 64 of Resist Me Not
Lazy but not without celebration.
“Happy birthday!” Mother announced as soon as we got downstairs. I had picked up streamers and a birthday banner to hang in the kitchen, and mother had insisted on making birthday muffins since we would not be around long enough for cake.
“You… you remembered.” Walker had turned to look at me with such humbled awe. “I can’t believe you remembered.Ibarely remembered.”
“You told me on our first date that your birthday was the day before your fellowship started. How could I forget that?”
Walker’s face in response to that made him look more beautiful to me than ever.
I think Mother hugged him goodbye twice as long as she hugged me. She likes him. Shelikeshim. She told me as much in a whisper at my ear before we got into our rideshare for the airport.
“He is wonderful, sweetheart. Don’t let this one get away.”
Oh, I have no intention of that.
“Part of me can’t believe I’ll be starting work again tomorrow,” Walker says to me now, unpacking by the closet that houses his washer and dryer so he can immediately start a load. “I’m ready. I needed that time away, but I am ready. And I am really happy to have you here.” He peeks back at me, where I am in the kitchen perusing his foodstuffs to debate on dinner options later. I would prefer to cook for him for his birthday, since he would like to stay in, but without a grocery run, we may need to rely on takeout.
“You aren’t too dissuaded by me having to leave in a few days again for my next assignment?” I ask.
The sounds of the washer starting precedes his answer, and he joins me in the kitchen. Seeing him finally fully relaxed again, like he was on our first several dates, is a gift I want to keep giving him. “Honestly, I’m going to be so busy, I think it’ll be nice to miss you a little.” He leans against the kitchen island, a picturesque specimen of ease. “And even nicer when I get to see you again.”
I move to him swiftly and draw him in for a kiss. Even now, what he stirs in me isn’t fading, and I never want it to. Never. Walker is mine and will be forever.
“Okay.” He chuckles, pushing at me playfully. “None of that until after dinner. There are a few things I have to do and organize before I’ll feel completely prepared for tomorrow. Plus, I’m a little groggy from the plane. I need to wake up.”
“Espresso?” I offer.
“That would be amazing.Youare amazing,” Walker reiterates and kisses me again but softer than I kissed him. “You’re sure you don’t need any of your things tossed in with mine?” He indicates my suitcase beside the island.
“Most of my clothing is dry clean only.”
“Of course it is.”
“I’ll handle it tomorrow. I might change into something more comfortable in a bit, however.” I empty my pockets onto the island—wallet and a few receipts. Once the espresso has been made, I will change while I let it cool.
Walker continues to unpack and get himself settled. It’s only when he stops for a moment to check his phone that he looks distressed.
“What is it?” I am almost finished with the final frothing of our drinks.
“Um… nothing, just—”
“It’s that detective again, isn’t it?” I guess.
Walker looks at me with a surge of his old panic. “I haven’t been hiding it very well that he’s still trying to get me to talk to him, huh?”
“Not especially.” I had also been checking Walker’s phone periodically, but only for that purpose, never to pry into anything else.
“I never respond to him,” Walker says, coming over to the island again but now across from me in the living room, “other than to tell him to stop bothering me. I texted him that I wouldn’t even be in town again all weekend until tonight. I’ll just give a listen to his last message. As long as he doesn’t have anything real to go on, he is not a threat. Okay? He’ll give up eventually.”
I set the espresso cups on the island and promptly leave the kitchen to grab my bag. “I’ll put my suitcase in the bedroom.”
“Trey.”
“Tell me what he says.”
I bring my bag to where Walker’s is, already mostly unpacked beside the bed, since it is emptied of clothes. I don’t move to change just yet, but I needed a moment to think. I do not want to kill the detective. He is simply doing his job, but he is also harassing Walker and a risk to us both. If he needs to be dealtwith, I will handle it like I always do, but I hope Walker can understand why it may be necessary and not turn away from me if it comes to that.
Which it might sooner than expected, because when I return to the living room, Walker has his phone lowered and his complexion is pallid.
