Page 99 of The Bronze Garza
“So, you did some crafting with my tools today...” He arches a quizzical brow at me. “What, am I supposed to grade it?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re a jerk.”
“You’ve said.”
“It’s a permission card.”
“Permission?”
“Tome,” I clarify. “As long as you have it, you don’t need to ask to...hold me...kiss me... If I take it back, permission is revoked.”
He stares at me. One beat, two beats, three beats... Then he blinks and looks down at the card again. Flips it over. “What’s the ‘all access’?”
“Complete access...” I swallow. “To every part of me...if you want...”
For the longest time, he just stares down at the card as if it offends him.
The silence between us is resounding.
Nerves bite into my skin and I gnaw at my lip, wondering if I’ve just made a huge mistake. If I’ve just ruined what little interest he has in me. It had seemed like a good idea earlier today, but now…I’m not so sure.
My heart sinks when he drops it to the counter as if it burned him. With two fingers, he begins sliding it across the counter back to me. But halfway across, he halts.
I stop breathing, butterflies flapping with broken wings in my chest.
He runs his tongue across his teeth, flicks his gaze up to me. And his eyes...God, how theyburn.
All that can be heard over the tension-heavy silence between us is the low hum of the refrigerator and the dull tick of a clock.
You want me. You want me. You want me.
After what feels like forever, he drags the card back to his side, picks it up, and tucks it into his back pocket. “Trouble it is.”
Without another word, he leaves the kitchen.
Worrying my lip, I watch him go. Through the living room and up the stairs. I don’t know what to make of it. Am I supposed to follow him? Am I supposed to just wait? Is this an “I’llcall you” situation?
When I was making the card today, I envisioned that after I gave it to him he would pounce on me and have his wicked way with me. Not walk away from me leaving me bereft and confused. I’m so desperate for his touch, his attention, it’s pathetic.
I linger downstairs for over an hour to see if he’ll come back down.
He doesn’t.
Tired of waiting, I head up to my room and leave the door open as I shower and get ready for bed. Thinking maybe he’ll come then.
He doesn’t.
Sometime around 1 a.m., when I’m on fire and finding it impossible to fall asleep, I give up the wait and decide to go to him instead, ambling down the hall on anxious legs.
Hand on the doorknob, I take a deep, shaking breath before I turn it.
Locked.
~
I wish I’dknown that giving Torin that card would be an initiation of my own personal torment.
It’s been three days, and, despite my efforts to be in his proximity at all times, he hasn’t laid a finger on me.
