Page 32 of Embers of Torment

Figuring I'd use one of the tactics I learned when I was younger, I put my hand on the lever and moved the crane so it hovered above Della's desired toy. Tapping the button, I watched the claw begin to lower, then quickly tapped it again right when the metal prongs touched the doll. That maneuver stopped the downward movement, keeping the claw from getting buried in the pile, which tended to skew its angle. The jaws closed, clamping firmly around Wonder Woman. The doll dropped into the hole.

"Yes! Woohoo, we got it!" Della did a little dance and retrieved Wonder Woman from the bottom of the machine. Still hopping up and down with excitement, Della turned and hugged me. As soon as our bodies made contact, she jumped back, her face flushed as she looked away.

Disappointed that she'd ended the hug, I wondered if she'd felt the same surge of sizzling energy I had when our bodies touched. I hoped so, but more than that, I wanted her to do it again. Icouldn't help envisioning my arms around her waist as I pulled her close for a tender kiss, the titillating image interrupted by Adam.

"Theo sent me a text. He finished a little earlier than expected, so I'm taking off. Can you walk Della home?"

"Sure. I don't mind." I fought to keep my enthusiasm down, delighted by the turn of events. A peek at Della's frowning face told me she wasn't as pleased. "Hey, thanks again for paying for dinner. Tell Theo I said hello."

"I will. Della, I'll see you Monday." Adam spun around, hurried toward the exit, and disappeared.

Della stood, her body rigid, staring at the now-empty archway. She turned to face me, her lips stretched into a thin line. "Umm, that was unexpected. I guess I'm ready to call it a night. Can you walk me home now?"

"Yeah, I can. Are you all right, though? Your mood shifted."

"I'm fine. I…umm. I have my dance class tomorrow, so I should go."

"Hey, why don't you give me your cell number? That way we can meet in the fitness center in the morning. We can get coffee or something after your class again."

"Sure." Della distractedly rattled it off while I programmed it into my phone.

She was quiet as we took the escalator to the ground floor. We crossed the street at the intersection, our apartment building on the adjacent block. Peeking at her, I could tell she wasn't going to say anything. I figured it was up to me to break the silence.

"So…what other things do you like to do besides darts, watching movies, and playing arcade games?"

"I don't know."

"Okay. What relaxes you when you want to chill? Do you read? Take walks? Or do something else?"

Della shrugged. "Read, I guess. And I like to paint. I've taken classes a few times."

"Aha. An artist. I bet you're the next Leonardo de Vinci." I playfully nudged Della with my elbow, determined to draw her out of the funky mood she'd fallen into.

"Yeah, right." Della bopped me with her hip. "Like that could ever happen. But I am better than when I started. My canvas doesn't come out like one massive blob anymore, and the last time I painted, you could almost tell the image was a flower. Although the instructor did call it a moon."

"Oh, so you're creative too. You paint moonflowers." I laughed, envisioning Della's painting. It was undoubtedly as colorful and full of character as her.

Della snorted, and a smile lit up her face. "Moonflowers? Cute, Jace. Very cute."

"I thought so."

Entering our building, Della hurried past the concierge desk and hung a right to the elevator lobby. I sidled up next to her.

"What are you doing?" Della eyed me with what looked like a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "You told me your apartment was on the seventeenth floor. Your elevators are that way." Della pointed across the lobby. "You can't get there on these. They only service my side of the complex."

"I know. I thought I'd walk you to your door. Is that a problem?"

"Umm…I guess not. But you don't need to do that. I doubt anything will happen to me from here to the sixth floor."

"Regardless, I'd feel better walking you to your door."

"Fine." Della sighed, almost looking defeated.

The elevator arrived, and Della was strangely silent as we took it upstairs. I followed her down the corridor, perplexed by her return to such a quiet mood.

"This is my apartment." Della stopped in front of her unit, which, based on the building's layout, I assumed overlooked Seaport Boulevard. "Whelp, thanks for escorting me to my door. Have a good night." Della placed her two dolls from the crane machine on the ground. Then she rummaged through her purse for her keys and dropped them.

I took a step forward and retrieved them from the carpet. Straightening, I saw Della had turned toward me with our bodies now inches apart. Her pupils had dilated, and I could see her chest rise and fall with her quickening breaths. I studied her face, my gaze locking on her lips, which glistened with her purple-tinted gloss.

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