Page 7 of Warmer, Colder

“Hey, Theresa.” Becca closes her book with a sigh and looks up at the other woman. “What’s up?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” Becca starts packing her books away.

“Distant. Weird.” Her friend leans across the table and places a hand on hers. “You and Meg should talk. I know you two can work it out.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“No. Meg won’t say. But are you really going to throw years of friendship away over your pride?” Theresa pushes.

Becca scoffs, pulling her hand away and resuming her task. “My pride isn’t the problem. It’s not really any of your business, honestly. If Meg wants to talk to me, she can.”

And with that, my recon mission ends on a sour note as Becca makes her way out of the library as quickly as possible.Thanks a lot Theresa.

But I can’t be completely pissed at her; she’s served the important purpose of reminding me about a potential sticking point in my plan,Meg. Becca’s jealous best friend who’shopelessly in love with her. Too bad for Meg, I held that role first, and I’m not willing to back down. Becca has been and always will be,mine.

I pity anyone who stands in the way of that. While Aphrodite might be best associated with love and beauty, she’s also been worshipped as a war goddess, and as they say, all is fair in love and war.

Chapter 4

Stasi

53 Days till Death

After two months of diligent observation—a study in all things Becca Murphy—I’m ready to start on phase two of my seduction of her heart.

Weaving my way through the parking lot, I find her white Jeep. As usual, her windows are cracked allowing me to slip in the first of my gifts, a poem inspired by a Sappho fragment that made me think of her on my homemade, pressed-floral stationery.

-I loved you, Atthis, years ago-

And I love you still.

With every lie that slips through those velveteen lips.

Despite the veil of perfection that you and your truth hide behind.

I’ll meet you there beneath the cloak of secrecy,

if it’s there that you’ll look at me with desire in your eyes.

Despite your words, we both know your body never lies.

I look forward to tasting the honey sweetness of your honesty.

But for now, I wait with patience for the day you’re ready to admit that you also want me.

When the breeze picks up, the lingering scent of my special-blend rosewater spray—imbued with three drops of my spit and a bit of cum—clings to the air. I breathe deeply with relief as I peek over the edge of her window and confirm the letter has landed on her seat.

My reverie is cut short by the telltale jingle of her keychain that’s weighed down by an eclectic array of charms and keys. Warmth swells within me at the reassurance that she’s nearby.

Quickly, I duck behind the hood of a nearby SUV, and watch Becca hoist herself into her seat. When she turns the key in the ignition, her gaze catches on the seat next to her,my love letter. Picking it up, she turns it over in her hands, reading her name in flourishing letters on one side and the lilac seal on the other. Becca looks left and right, as if she can sense my eager eyes, and then breaks the seal. Slowly, her lips turn upward, and she slides the tortoiseshell sunglasses she’s wearing up into her hair.

With great restraint, I stay in my hiding spot. With gentle hands, she slides the wildflower-embellished paper out of the matching envelope. The few lines of poetry are read quickly, but her eyes linger, reading it over and over, taking in every detail of the hand-drawn doodles I added. If I were closer, I’d be able to see the blush she hides behind her hand and hear the gasp that falls from her mouth.

My girl is pleased.

Becca’s head tilts back against the headrest, allowing me to see the broad smile that spreads across her face.I did that.

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