Page 6 of Take You

Kane

I straightened up then reached down to offer her my hand. She looked at it for an extended moment, blinking rapidly, and just as I was about to withdraw it, grabbed hold. The spark that ignited between us as her palm slotted into mine went straight to my balls.

She reached for her laptop, then scrambled to her feet. “Thank you. I mean sorry. And thanks.” As soon as she was standing, she dropped my hand like I’d burned her with acid, and clasped her arms across her chest, folding the laptop within them.

“No thanks necessary. It was the least I could do. I mean, is your laptop okay? I’d be happy to pay for—” I reached out toward it, but she jumped back like she’d been tased.

“No! I mean, no thank you. I’m sure it will be fine”—She looked anything but sure—“but even if it’s not, it’s not your fault, I’ll take care of it. Anyway, I need to...” She looked over my shoulder down the hall, but didn’t finish the sentence.

“Are you sure you have to dash off? You look a little... shaken.” I softened my voice, hoping to make her feel more at ease in my presence. “I’d love to buy you a coffee, if you have time? I’m Kane, by the way. Kane O’Neill.” I thrust my hand her way a second time, and waited, again, watching her as she eyed me warily.

Even considering the fact that she’d just had a major shock, she was skittish as all hell. “It’s just coffee, and the least I can do under the circumstances.” If she didn’t say something, anything pretty quickly, I was going to start to feel like a total creeper.

“Umm... okay... thanks, sure.” Thank fuck for that. I conveniently ignored the fact that, despite her words suggesting otherwise, she really didn’t sound sure at all.

“Okay, great. Do you want to...” I held her backpack out to her. “...or shall I do the honors?”

“What? Oh God, no, I’m sorry, I would never. Here, let me.” She looked mortified at the suggestion that I might carry her bag.

“It’s okay, I really don’t mind, I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to take off with it, or some shit. I got it.” Before she could object again, which I was almost certain she was about to, I slung her backpack over the opposite shoulder from mine, and started striding toward Where You Bean. I didn’t look back, knowing that if nothing else, I now had her bag as collateral, to ensure she came with me. Her footsteps alongside me confirmed my hypothesis.

We walked in awkward silence until we reached the coffee house, then I pulled the door open, and paused to let her in ahead of me. “After you.” She paused again, a skeptical look returning to her haunted features. “It’s just coffee. I won’t bite. I promise. And like I said before, it’s the least I can do after knocking you on your ass in the hall.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Where were you headed when we…I mean…I crashed into you? I don’t want to keep you from something important.”

“How about you let me worry about that? I wouldn’t have asked you here if I couldn’t spare the time. Let’s go inside before someone mistakes me for a doorman.” That elicited a small, tight smile from her, and I took it as a sign of progress. My dick took it as a sign that fucking was in order, stat.

I pretty-much had to force her to let me buy her a coffee—anybody would have been forgiven for thinking I was offering cyanide pills washed down with a cocktail of arsenic and anthrax—but we got there in the end, mainly because I pretty much threatened to hold her bag hostage until she relented.

I carried the coffees and both bags to a table, then set down the drinks and handed the bag over, half expecting her to make a dash for the door when she got it. She surprised me by taking it from me and sitting down. I joined her.

“So... I didn’t catch your name.”

She narrowed her eyes, appraising me. I let the silence drag out between us, using it as an excuse to get a better look at her. She was infeasibly stunning, but in a “hiding in plain sight” kind of way. It was almost as though she didn’t want anyone to notice. I couldn’t believe she wasn’t aware of her genetic good fortune. It was impossible to navigate the world looking the way she did, and not realize.

Even if she’d never owned or looked in a mirror, I was sure the way other people reacted to her would have been a clue. I sidled a look around at out our fellow drinkers, and sure enough, a few were taking what they probably considered to be subtle glances our way, though they were mostly about as subtle as a brick to the head.

“I didn’t tell you it.”

“Yeah, that was kind of implied when I asked you for it. So are you going to tell me, or is there going to be some kind of Rumpelstiltskin-esque guessing game for me to find out?”

She held back a little longer, and I bit my tongue, fighting back my irritation. It was a fucking name. I wasn’t sure what she thought I was going to do with it once I had it, though in actual fact she was right to be suspicious.

I waited, not wanting to give the impression that I cared much either way, though obviously it was normal when sharing a hot beverage with someone for me to want to have some clue who I was breaking liquid bread with. Not only that, but as far as she was concerned, she had me at a disadvantage, as she already knew my name.

“Rose. It’s Rose.”

“Oh. I’m kind of disappointed.”

Confusion flashed across her face. “Disappointed? How do you mean?”

“Well, after that build up, I’d started to imagine all sorts of weird and wonderful possibilities.

“Like what?”

“Like Countess Vladimira Von Peckenhammer.”

She didn’t laugh, but her smile was broad, and I was pretty sure she was holding back a chuckle.

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