Page 34 of Venus
Right now, standing here in her apartment with the false fire and the real tension between us, I realize something I wasn’t exactly sure of before, but I’m definitely sure of now.
I love her.
Not just that sickly-sweet puppy love that usually creeps up between two friends, but strong, confident love. The kind of love that makes you dread the goodbyes but count down the seconds to the hellos. The kind of love where I look at her and the first word that comes to mind is:home.
I love her.
“You okay?” I ask again, just to check.
She looks at me for a long second. “Yeah. Fine.”
I nod to the charred remains of her sandwich. “Grilled cheese is DOA though. I’ll pass on the message to the next of kin.”
“Isn’t it pathetic that I’m quickly approaching thirty and can’t cook a grilled cheese without summoning the entire fire department?”
I shrug and give her a chuckle. “You might be terrible at grilled cheese, but I’m decent at pasta. I’ll show you tonight. For dinner.”
“You just kicked down my door and now you want to play house?” she teases. Then, she gives me a smug expression. “Well, I guess I’ll be needing somewhere to stay while my door gets repaired.”
I give her a smile back. “I’ll make a reservation for you at the Westwood Bed & Breakfast.” I look around. “What about Callie?”
“She’s conveniently out of town for the next two days for her little brother’s college graduation. So we’ll just need one bed, please.”
“Alright, but you’ll have to share the space with the owner. I hear he’ssmokin’hot.”
She flicks the kitchen towel at me, making a snapping sound to ward me out the door.
“Bye, Carter!”
Chapter 18 | Vulcan
My apartment smells like bold, citrusy shampoo. It smells likeher.
And I fucking love it.
I know she only agreed to sleep here for a few nights while her apartment door gets repaired, but the way I felt when I woke up this morning, knowing she was here, knowing she would stay?
It’s magical. Surreal. I never want it to end.
She’s sitting at my tiny round table near the kitchen, sipping on a Redbull. The sunlight filters through the blinds and curtains, casting the floor and her bare shoulders in pretty golden lines.
This is the kind of morning peace that you never want to end.
“Want some pancakes?” I ask, already reaching for the mix in the pantry. She hums and nods back. I flip on the TV to watch the morning news, and she raises her head from the daily crossword puzzle on her phone to watch the coverage.
Breaking News! The infamous East Coast billionaire Christian Reeves and his wife Elena were found shot to death in their home this morning, along with both of Mrs. Reeves’ parents.
Preliminary police reports believe this to be the result of a triple-murder suicide, but details are unclear on which individual is responsible. The MCPD has been keeping this case very tightly guarded while they investigate.
The Reeves’ recently adopted a child, who we can confirm was found safe in the home by the family’s private chef, who has not agreed to any interviews and refuses to comment on what he saw inside the home.
The fate of the Reeves Empire remains unknown, and stock prices have plummeted due to investor uncertainty–
“Jesus. I’ve seen some things, but I can’t even imagine,” I say, mindlessly flipping the golden brown pancakes onto a plate and coating them with syrup.
That’s the thing about working in a job like firefighting or nursing…you sorta grow numb to that kind of violence or tragedy after a while. You get a few that stick with you, but otherwise you just learn to say‘that’s terrible’and continue eating breakfast.
It’s mostly just background noise for me this time, but V seems more upset the longer she watches the footage of the red, white and blue lights surrounding that mansion. She seems to enter another dimension, her eyes absorbing the pictures on the screen but her mind racing a million miles a minute. I don’t interrupt her, just watchher face twist and turn with whatever emotions she’s trying to work through.
