Page 23 of Beautiful Rose

Ah, the code running on her PC. My excitement deflates, but the smile stays on my lips. That’s the Marr I know.

Me: That’s brilliant. But for a moment, I thought you were inviting me over.

I see the three dots appearing and disappearing on my screen as she types and deletes multiple times before finally sending me an emoji.

Couch girl: :\

I let her off the hook.

Me: Don’t forget to send me the details of the code.

Couch girl: I don’t forget anything. :)

Me: I’ll keep that in mind Ms. Marlin for the day I need your superpowers.

Couch girl: LOL You are funny.

Me: I’d really like you to tell that to my brothers. They think I’m too uptight.

Couch girl: Really? You don’t look uptight to me.

I lie on the bed, my stupid hands shaking as I type.

Me: Then how do I look to you?

Again, there’s a period of her typing and deleting. I’m almost tempted to change gears, but thankfully, her new message arrives.

Couch girl: You appear prudent. Judicious. Levelheaded.

Me: Your adjectives made my head hurt. Now I know you see me as an eighty-year-old businessman. :(

Couch girl: Crab! I didn’t mean it like that. :P

My lips curl up as I read her weird, one-of-a-kind cursing.

Later that night, before placing my phone on the nightstand, I open the messenger app and read her texts one more time. When I get into bed, there’s a smile on my face.

I close my eyes, waiting for the darkness to engulf me. For the pain of the rose thorns as they cut my skin. But something flashes in the middle of the red and black.Blue eyes, making me sit upright on my bed. For the first time in the past two decades, my haunted nights are invaded by something new, something not from my jaded past. My heart races and I’m drenched in sweat, but for the first time, I’m not scared to lie back again.

What are you doing to me, couch girl?

9

ROSE

After returning to my office with a lunch of veggie delight salad and an iced tea, I power on my computer. Before perching back in my office seat, I check the water level in the moisture sensor of my small bowstring hemp plant.

When I unlock my PC, there’s an unopened email in my inbox from Zander.

The tea almost slips from my grip as I see his name.

I place the cold bottle on the table and wipe the spilled drops.

Something tickles inside me as I read his email.

From: Zander Teager

Subject: New Project

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