Page 62 of Capture the Moment
“Is everything alright?” the voice of an angel calls out to me in a tone I can’t quite register. It’s not sad or mad but it’s not too happy either. It’s a tone that makes my skin crawl because I feel like I'm in trouble with my mom when I did nothing wrong. My eyes widen when Cleo fixates on me with a look of pure steel.
She’s mad?
“Who is this bitch?”
My head reels back and I immediately stumble to Cleo’s side, positioning myself in front of her.
“Watch your mouth.”
“But… But Blakey!” Chelsea blubbers, eyes wide with shock.
“Watch your fucking mouth when you talk about her.” My teeth are clenched and I’m so fucking livid that I don’t think I can calm myself down.
I mean, who does ChelseaMyrtlethink she is calling Cleo out of her name? How dare she? I mean seriously, Cleo, of all people?
Cold, soft fingers tug on my upper bicep from behind, the feeling sends little shockwaves up my spine and I know it’sher.
Cleo.
She lets out a soft chuckle from behind me and I smile because I know she finds this whole situation funny even though it’s pissing me so far off I can’t see straight.
“Let’s just go. You still have one wish to cash in,” she says, looking up at me with the most beautiful brown eyes.
Most people think that blue or green eyes are the most magnificent but in reality, it’s brown. Brown eyes have a vast range from being as dark as charcoal to light like warm almonds. Cleo’s eyes remind me of a tawny owl. They’re large and wide and full of life but also a shade of brown that is so light in the sun it’s like a caramel but during the evening it’s dark and rich in color.
I’mobsessedwith her eyes.
And so instead of giving Chelsea Myrtle any more of my energy, I look down at the girl who’s been invading my mind and smile. “Hungry?”
She nods, grabbing a hold of my bicep just a little tighter, shifting closer to me.
And without looking back at the gaping blonde in front of me, we turn on our heels—my bicep in her small cold hand—and make our way to the food stalls.
twenty-six
Cleo
I made a dealwith a backwards-cap, dad-clothes-wearing devil. Blake looks down at me with a smile of complete and utter mischief and I know that I’ve sparked a deal with a man who has no limit.
My skin crawls as memories of a man from my past and how I sold him my soul in exchange for a handful of trust, filters through my mind.
I shudder and I can feel myself spiraling. Why did I come here tonight? Have I screwed myself overagain?
Let’s face it, Cleo. In the last two years, you’ve done that more times than you can count.
Blake steps further into my space, his warm scent crowds my senses as he looks down at me. His eyes are soft, yet mischievous and it doesn’t take a genius to know that this man is dangerous.
Not in the sexy stalker or assassin way but in the heartthrob, detrimental to my ovaries and emotions kind of way.
His blue eyes sparkle as he leans in close to my ear, his warm minty breath lingers in the space between us.
“Oh, sweet,sweetprincess, you’ve just made a deal with the devil.” He grins mischievously before clasping his large hand around my own, dragging me around the vast fairground. I don’t protest as Blake records me with our project's camcorder as I fail to hit a target in one of the fair games.
“YES! FINALLY A GAME CLEO JONES CAN’T—Oh, come on!How’d you make that?” he groans, licking the smile off his lips as he looks down at me.Blake can’t help the chuckle that escapes his mouth as he looks over the pin I’d just knocked down.
From the corner of my eye, I see a flash of pink rush past that catches my attention. I know who it is before I turn my head to see Sienna running away from Derek, thehot assgoalie on the Hockey team. He’s holding a small toddler who’s pointing at my running cousin. I raise a brow at the interaction before focusing back on the stunned male beside me. He gives me a small smile before wrapping his arm around my shoulder, I pause at the action, heart pounding against my chest.
Are we close enough to do things like this now? Is he my new “guy friend”, or whatever Dad calls mysituationships? Instead of dwelling on the thought of my father and the rule we’d set for me before attending SFU, I relax under Blakes touch as he guides us away from the stands to the large spinning death wheel in the middle of the festival.
