Page 130 of Paradox
I step closer, then smooth his hair back off his face. “AndIknow that you have. But—"
With a swift, deep, frustrated intake of breath through his nose, Eden grabs me, carries me to the pantry, and puts me down. Then, before I have a chance to say anything else, he clamps his hand over my mouth. “Not. Another. Word. At all… This isn’t one of thoseI do actually want you to be a bratsituations. It’s been ‘no’ for weeks, and it’ll be 'no' for as long as it needs to be.”
After he releases me and walks away, I collapse back into the dining chair and stare blankly ahead of me.
It's true. I've been asking for weeks and he always denies me. But this time…
Fuck.
I feel like a naughty kid.
Is it guilt?
Or is it something more?
Something much, much more.
My god, why do I feel so excited, like I’m tingling all over?
This is definitelynotguilt.
Smiling like a damn clown, I clamber up onto the chair and start rummaging around the shelf. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I need to busy my hands or the giant smile on my face will work its way through my entire body, and I’ll run to him and shout the fact that I love him too.
This wasn’t part of my plan. Though, to be honest, it’s no secret that it was poorly thought out from the start. But Eden—oh my god—he’s been skirting around ‘why not’ for so long I was starting to think it was some screwed up form of cruel and unusual punishment.
“Will you settle for dark chocolate almond because you pissed me off?”
My smile is so wide and my teeth are so tightly clamped together that it takes me a few seconds to compose myself before answering. “Yes, thank you. I’ll take anything.”
“I’ll give you chocolate orange.”
“Can I have the almond if I say sorry?” I giggle to myself, knowing he was only joking.
Spotting a small glass jar of ground cinnamon, I drag it towards me. It’s expired by several years.
“Do spices actually expire?” I call out, only to have Eden wrap his arm around my stomach from behind.
“Does salt and pepper expire?”
“Um… No. Not really.”
“So there’s your answer.”
I nod to myself, then—with the cinnamon in one hand—I gather the granulated sugar, instant coffee, pancake mix, maple syrup, and brown sugar from the lower shelves.
“I need to get down.”
Eden wraps his other arm around me.
I wiggle my hips. “You’re the worst.”
“You’re the best.”
My heart is beating so fast I feel like a runaway train speeding out of control.
I think I might be shaking, and I know I’m thankful that my back is still to Eden. “Could you carry me to the counter so I can put this all down?”
“Do I get to keep holding you?”
