Page 31 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
“In what way?”
“Cherry blossom season,” Aries says, smiling. Dramatically, he lifts a hand and swipes the air as if he’s painting a fanciful picture with his palm. “In the spring, the landscape is inundated with cherry blossom trees. They’re everywhere, clustered and floating blissfully like soft pink clouds. I can have a beer and bento underneath the ethereal canopy and the temperature outside is perfect. In some places, they light the trees up at night, so the blossoms practically glow.
“That’s my favorite. Plus, the experience is fleeting. You might only get two solid weeks of bloom, so something in it feels enchanting. It’s a beautiful reminder that one’s life should not be taken for granted.”
I haven’t been there, obviously, but I know what he’s talking about because I’ve seen images on the Internet (back when I had apps to do such dangerous things).
The scene appears in my mind—a dark blue sky set against rows of soft pink cherry blossom trees illuminated by white lanterns. I imagine the sound of the breeze interspersed with laughter. Petals swirling and falling, gently landing on blankets and shoulders.
This situation with Aries feels the same way. Fleeting. Something unique that I shouldn’t take for granted. “It sounds wonderful,” I tell him. “I wish I could experience it.”
He stands with the jacket muslin, setting the needle and thread on the table. “Maybe you can, someday? You could have business there, or perhaps a vacation with your mate?”
I scrunch my nose, tapping into my fantasy mind. “Maybe by myself? And you and I can have a beer together in your favorite spot under the cherry blossoms, since I showed you my favorite hiding place near the lavender field?”
He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not, Oliver.”
With my arms still folded, I look out the ivy-covered window. “I don’t.” Does he think I can’t control myself? I haven’t let my aura radiate at all since the banquet a week ago. I promised him that I would restrain my weird behaviors and I meant it.
“Come to the stage, please, so you can try this on in the mirror.”
Standing up from the stool, I decide to stifle my irrational indignation about his not wanting to have a hypothetical beer with me. As I move, I try to reassure him. “You don’t need to worry. Listen—I’ve got this under control.”
After stepping up onto the stage, I turn and face him. He breathes out and I get a puff of jasmine directly in my face since we’re suddenly the same height. The sensation makes me gasp.
“Have you considered that you’re not the one I’m worried about?” He flashes a cool smile as he fluffs out the jacket once more.
A hopeful thought floats to the top of my consciousness. Is… he worried about controlling himself? Withme? I open my mouth to ask, but he lifts the jacket between us and cuts me off.
“Turn around, please?”
“S-sure…” I face the mirror, watching the reflection of him while he holds the jacket up. We’re quiet as I slip my arms into it, but my heart thrums in my chest. I’ve been a blustering and ridiculous mess ever since I first laid eyes on him, but… does he find me attractive?
He’s been polite, but largely unresponsive—like no part of his nature is even the slightest bit interested in mine. I’m assuming his kindness toward me is more out of pity than any actual attraction. Or more like he’s being paid very well by Lord Blakeley, so he should humor his naïve and horny son.
With the mock jacket on, Aries caresses his palms across my shoulders, smoothing out the fabric. “What do we think?” he asks, his tone businesslike as he slides his hands down my arms. “Is the fit comfortable? Too snug?”
The heat of my nature swirls inside my belly. I take a breath to stifle it, but I can already feel the warmth behind my eyes. “I-it’s fine. I’m comfortable.”
In the mirror’s reflection, he winks, running his hand down my back to flatten the material and simultaneously exerting a gentle pressure down my spine. He pulls at the hem. “You don’t care.”
“I do! But I…” It’s over. I’ve successfully managed to stifle my aura, but my eyes have alighted. I close them and sigh. Humiliating.
“Turn for me?” Aries asks, taking a step back.
Reluctantly, I turn, then slowly open my eyes. I look away. “Sorry.”
“Did you notjusttell me two minutes ago that you had this under control?”
“Well… two minutes ago, I did.”
His smile is amused as he steps into me and adjusts the collar. My pulse rings in my ears from his closeness and scent. From the wry upturn of his beautiful lips.
“Learning to suppress the burn behind your irises takes time,” he says with his voice low. “You’re very young, Oliver. You don’t need to be sorry.”
