Page 100 of Roses and Skulls

Elijah has set my robe right beside me, so I slide it on and make my way outside. He’s standing over the fire, flipping pancakes.

“Why didn’t you wake me? I would have helped,” I say, drawing his attention away from the food.

The smile that breaks out over his face warms my chest. I smile back, dropping my gaze to the ground, slightly embarrassed and a little insecure about last night.

“Come, eat.” He coaxes me closer with the promise of food. When I get within arm’s reach, he grabs me around the throat and pulls my face to his, kissing me hard. He smacks my butt, making me yip and then points to a chair. “Sit.”

“Awfully bossy this morning, aren’t we?” I snip. But I do what he asks.

He just laughs and hands me a plate and a bottle of syrup. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He shrugs, sitting down next to me with his own plate.

I let my eyes wander around the landscape, still amazed by the vastness of the salt flats. It’s beautiful in its simplicity.

“So, did you bring what I asked you to?” he asks.

“Yeah, I think so.”

After we finish cleaning up the breakfast mess, we sit down in front of each other, our knees touching.

When Elijah asked me to bring at least five things that are important to me, I thought it was a great idea. He said he wanted to get to know me again and that he would also bring parts of his life to share with me. Conversation starters he called them. Who knew this heavily tatted, pierced, gruff looking hottie was also sentimental?

“I’ll go first because I can already see you’re nervous. Stop picking at your nails. There is nothing to be nervous about.” He pulls a stuffed, brown puppy dog out of his bag.

I cover my mouth.

“Don’t laugh, Rosie. I’ve slept with this thing since I was a kid. When we share our bed, he’ll be there with us.”

Elijah is the sweetest man alive because I know he chose this first to put me at ease. I grab the puppy from his hands and look him over. “He’s adorable. How long have you had him?”

“Since I was born. My dad got him for me. I have pictures of Boris and I in my hospital bassinet together.”

“Boris?” I raise my eyebrow.

“Yes, Boris sounds tough, doesn’t it? I wanted him to have a bad ass name,” Elijah says, grinning at me.

“Well, he’s cute and I would be happy to snuggle with him at night.”

I set Boris down beside me and reach into my bag, pulling out my little treasure chest. I hand it to Elijah. “My grandpa made this for me. We went on many treasure hunts over the years, and I stored all my favorite finds in here.”

He opens it and smiles when he pulls out a black rock. He sets it beside him and takes out the next thing, a little ceramic frog that looks like it was painted by a four-year-old and it was. Elijah laughs. “I didn’t peg you as a reptile sort of girl.”

I snatch the frog from him. “This is Miles, and we call him that because he’s traveled many miles.” Smiling at the small trinket wistfully, I flip it over and show Elijah the Velcro strip on the bottom. “The other half is on my dad’s bike. Every time I rode with him, Miles went with us.”

Elijah reaches for him. “This is exactly why we’re doing this.” He stares down at it. “We’ve missed the last fourteen years.” He sighs loudly. “I wish I could have been there to see you on the back of his bike.” He places the frog and rock back carefully in my treasure chest and sets it aside.

His words make my heart long for the same thing, we’ve missed so much.

We continue to laugh and poke fun at each other as we share all of our items. As I’m putting my grandpa’s knife back in my bag Elijah says, “I only have one thing left but I want to go last.”

“Okay.” I nervously tuck my hair behind my ear. I pull out the sketchbook my mom gave me, she never knew I actually used it. “Before I show you these, remember, I’m not my mom. I don’t have her artistic ability or anything. This is just some doodling I do when I’m trying to…” my words trail off.

“To not hurt yourself,” he finishes.

I nod, giving him an anxious smile, handing the book over to him.

Elijah’s eyebrows shoot straight up to his hairline. “Rosie, fuck, these are cool!” His gaze bounces to mine before resting back on one of my sketches. “Did you copy these from photos?”

“No, they’re all my design. I know some of them are a little crazy. I’ve always loved bikes. I’m not sure if any of them could ever be a reality.”

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