Page 9 of Rome: The Ballerina

“In other cases,” I inquired.

“Serious. Focused. Knowledgeable. Prepared. It can mean several things.”

I nodded, finally having a clear understanding.

“How will it benefit me?”

“Being square business?”

A chuckle slipped from my lips. I leaned forward, placing my hands on my hips. That wasn’t my intention. Nothing he’d said required that response, yet I had absolutely no control over my actions or my words. I responded naturally. Organically. Unprogrammed. Unfiltered.

The fear of saying the wrong thing wasn’t enough to keep my words bound. My body wouldn’t allow it. Regaining control didn’t feel plausible. My lips and limbs were loose.

“No,” I countered. “Being your accountability partner, because since you appeared, I’ve lost more than I’ve gained.”

And, I’ve suffered.

I’ve suffered tremendously at your hands.

“What have you lost?” He asked, stepping closer as if he had the right.

He does.And, I assumed he knew it.

“An AirPod,” I reminded him, tilting my head toward his closed fist.

“True. True.”

“Now, what will I gain?”

“Selfish, huh?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

His body widened. His limbs stiffened. His irises halted at mine, drawing me in from the water I’d been submerged in since his appearance. Finally, I was on the surface again, able to regulate my system and the emotions it evoked.

“It seems as if you are. You stopped my music, stole my AirPod, kept me from hearing the instructions the guy up front is giving, insisted I have a conversation before sunrise, and you want me to be your accountability partner because I looksquare business. Again, I’ve lost much more than I’ve gained and you’ve only been standing here for one minute and twelve seconds.”

“You have a timer in your head or som–”

“I do. Involuntarily. And, it begins each time my nervous system is shattered.”

“Impressive.”

So are you.

“Benefits–”

“Okay. Benefits.”

He nodded, unfolding his arms and joining his palms. My AirPod was now at the tips of his index finger and thumb.

“After we’re both out of breath with stomachs touching our backs, I’m going to help you into my truck and then take you to the breakfast spot of your choosingor mine. Whatever you’re most comfortable with. Then, I’ll return your AirPod and make sure you get home safely. The world is a dangerous place for pretty women like yourself.”

Gnawing the inside of my bottom lip, I chuckled. “Oh, is it?”

“It is. Do you watch the news? It’s a warzone out there,” he emphasized, being overly dramatic.

His lips twitched as his eyes glistened. He couldn’t keep a straight face as he exaggerated the dangers of Clarke. Suburbia Clarke, more specifically. The crime rate almost didn’t exist in the mountains of the city.

“And, the AirPod, it’s a hostage now?”

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