Chaos and Control(63)

“Sometimes I feel like you own me,” I confess, trying to distract him. “I think about you constantly, Preston. My mind always comes back to you.” His breathing picks up. It’s the only reaction to what I’ve said. “I think about what’s going on in your head and how I wish I could help. I think about your hands on me, your kisses.”

Preston stalks forward, wedging himself between my thighs. He leans his forehead against mine. My fingers curl around his waist and slide down to hook into his belt loops.

“I think about you, too,” he says. “If you knew how much, you’d probably be worried.”

“Not true. Tell me what you think about.”

Preston closes his eyes now, and his hands come to rest on my thighs. His thumbs sweep back and forth in an arc, just under the hem of my skirt.

“In certain lights, your hair goes from a flowery lavender to silver. Your eyes are so honest, and you never look at me with pity. There are thirty-six freckles on your cheeks. Fourteen on the left,” he says tapping my cheek. “Twenty-two on the right. Your asymmetry is beautiful.” He taps the other side before running his finger down to the corner of my lips.

I smile and shake my head, amazed at his observations, humbled that anyone sees me so completely.

“And your mouth. Your mouth makes me fucking crazy, Wren. The biting, the licking, the way you smile when you say my name. And how your lips form the words when you’re reading. The way your delicate fingers play with the collar of your shirt when you’re thinking or nervous. You create this chaos inside me, and at the same time, quiet it.” Preston places four kisses on the side of my neck, his lips trailing up to the shell of my ear. His breath heats my skin. “I don’t know if I’m crazier with you, or without you. But I know I’m crazy about you.”

“Preston,” I whisper in the space between us. His honest, beautiful words leave me speechless. “I wish I had beautiful words like you do. For once, I wish I were more transparent.”

He steps back and tucks his hands into his pockets. “I feel like I’m getting lost in you.”

“And that’s bad?” I ask, hoping he can’t hear the hurt in my voice.

“I don’t know yet. I’m not sure where this is going or what you want for your future. I’ve already told you I’m no good at relationships. What if I can’t be what you need?”

“What if you can?”

“What if I try, Wren, and then you decide it’s time to leave Crowley again? What then?”

I don’t have an answer for him, so I stay quiet. The front door chimes, and Preston looks toward the swinging door.

“I better get back out there,” he says.

I nod and watch him disappear into the store. Each moment between us seems more intense than the one before. Each one leaves me more breathless and with more questions than answers.

…

“Maybe I should just leave,” I tell Bennie as she flips the open/closed sign in the front window. “If Dylan comes and I’m not here, maybe he’ll just move on.”

Bennie sighs and pulls the register drawer. “If he’s going to come this far, what’s to stop him from following you and finding you somewhere else?”

She carries the till toward her office in the back of the store, and I follow. “I’m good at disappearing. He won’t find me.”

“And live the rest of your life hiding from this asshole? I don’t think it’s a good idea. Have you talked to Sawyer yet?” I shake my head. Bennie unlocks the office and sits at her desk. “I think it’s best for you to stay here. You have people who care about you. We can help.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

She groans and drops the stack of one-dollar bills she was about to count. “Then do what you want. You always have. But think about this. What if Dylan comes, intent on his revenge, and you’re not here? What if he takes it out on Preston or me? You said yourself, he’s a psycho.”

I fall into the leather chair across from Bennie’s desk and scrub my face. “I’ve thought about that. I don’t know what to do, Bennie. Running feels natural for me, you know?”

“I know it does. But stick around, kid. We’ll figure something out. If he is coming here, we’ll keep you safe. And you’ll be on home turf, you know? If you’re going to be stubborn and not make an official report, please just talk to Sawyer about it. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”

“Maybe,” I say, playing with the hem of my shirt.

“No maybe. Promise me.”

“Fine. I promise I’ll talk to Sawyer about Dylan.”

“I’m heading to The Haystack for a few drinks. You want to come?”

“Do you need me to come?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“No. I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. But call me if you need help getting home,” I insist.

“Fine, kid. Sure you don’t want to join me? My treat.”

I shake my head and leave her office more confused than when I went in. Leaving Crowley would probably be best for everyone. I never planned on staying here permanently. Why not go now? Why not save everyone the trouble? I doubt Dylan would hurt anyone here. He wants me. He’s coming for me. If I were gone, he’d probably move right through Crowley.