Page 45 of Locke

Locke did this thing every time we were closing in on each other.

He’d linger nearby, drawing closer. Like a fucking predator keeping track of its next meal, he wasn’t overly obvious about it.

He’d distract.

Ask me pointless questions like, “Are you expected at work, little prey?”

“No,” I’d answer, completely oblivious to the gap closing between us. “For the first time in years, I took four days off everything.”

He didn’t respond to that, and I felt a crushing feeling of helplessness because I needed those jobs to survive, and taking time off work was a rare event.

The next question he asked was, “How old are you?”

All the while coming even in closer.

“Twenty-three,” I answered. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.”

When I didn’t immediately respond to that, he asked with amusement, “Does that put you off?”

I shook my head, dragging the fork around my empty plate, licking the last of the sauce off. “I’ve never been with…”

“With what?”

“A man like you.”

“Older?”

“Yeah, and…” my words trailed off.

“And what?” he pressed, intrigued.

“Just…someone like you.” I couldn’t look at him. It felt too personal right now.

“What am I like?”

I bit my lip, thinking. “Overwhelming…and bad.”

His tone was lower, and it made my skin ignite with tingles. “Do you like bad, Kali?”

It was the first time he’d used my name since I’d given him it, and…my body roared something fierce. My breaths came out short and fast as I admitted, “I’ve been looking for someone like you, but…not the real deal.”

“Someone like me to do what?”

“To be…a little forceful.” I shut my eyes, cringing at my words. “Finding someone who takes control is…rare.”

“Finding someone who is relinquishing theirs is even rarer,” he responded, and this time, his voice sounded too close for comfort.

And that was when I looked up and realized my predicament.

Locke did this.

Set you at ease.

Slowly closed in on you.

Cornering you.

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