Page 37 of Hexed
“Yes.”
I walk around the pop-up shop and take one of the seashell necklaces into my palm, inspecting it. “Well, I don’t know if you know this, but people like an explanation of why they should do something before they do it. Makes them feel like you’re treating them equally instead of talking down to them.”
A loud laugh escapes him as he comes to stand next to me. “You’re right. I want you to pick something because I can tell that memory of you and your mom, it’s a good one. And I want to be a good one, too.”
Surprise flickers in my chest like a candle.
“Do you like that?” He looks down at the seashell necklace in my hand.
“Sure, it’s pretty.” I place it back on the stand.
“Do you want it?” he presses.
My brows shoot to my hairline. “Uh…no thanks. I’m good.”
“I’d like to get it for you.”
“If I wanted it, I’d get it myself.”
My eyes scan the price tag, because it reallyispretty. But I don’t have the money to spend on trivial things, and I’ll be damned if I let him get it for me out of pity.
“Christ, you’re difficult. Can’t you accept a gift?” He nods toward the merchandise.
“When it’s from the man marrying my cousin? I don’t think so.” I shake my head. “You don’t have to do this, you know?”
His tongue swipes along his bottom lip, and my stomach clenches tight, heat flaring between my legs. He leans down, his voice dropping an octave. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”
The timbre of his words skates across my flesh like a knife.
“How about I pick something for you instead?” I bargain.
He considers it. “Is that the best I’ll get?”
“Most likely.”
He grins and straightens. “It’s a deal.”
“That’s it?” I cross my arms. “You folded just like that?”
He shrugs. “Sure, if it will make you happy.”
A smile breaks across my face unbidden.
If it will make you happy.
I don’t know if anyone has ever said those words to me. It’s dangerous how much I like the way it feels.
NINE
ENZO
Ten minutes later,I’m the less-than-enthusiastic owner of a T-shirt that says “Mariner of the Seas,” with a sailboat against a rainbow backdrop.
“It’s rude you’re not wearing your gift.” Venesa points at the shirt, which she picked out, that I now have tucked under my arm. “Do you not like it?”
I look at her, amused. “Is it a gift if I paid?”
She lifts her shoulders and smiles. “It’s the thought that counts. Besides, did you know your last name in Latin means ‘of the sea’? It’s basically your namesake on a shirt.”
