Page 17 of Unravel Me

Rosie snickers, and when she does, her nose does this cute little scrunchy thing. “You haven’t said a word in ten minutes, Adam. You’re just walking in silence, staring at me.” She swipes at her chin. “Do I have something on my face? I had a peanut butter and jam sandwich earlier and I tend to be an incredibly messy eater.” She swings her head over her shoulder, trying to look at her butt. “Or did I sit in something? You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve donethat, only to find out hours later when I take my clothes off.”

I chuckle. “No, you don’t have jam on your face, and you didn’t sit in something. Your butt is per—” I halt. Rosie blinks at me. I blink back. “Purple.” I gesture at her butt in her skintight lilac leggings. “Your pants are purple, so your butt is also…purple. Not that I was looking.”

I was totally looking.

Rosie tucks a short petal-pink wave behind her ear. “Thanks…I think?”

I nod. “Yeah, they’re nice leggings.” I do love the leggings, almost as much as I love the ass, and not because of the color.

Because her hips are full and round as fuck, and I’m not proud to say every single time she skips ahead of me, my eyes zero in on that perfect ass in those sculpted pants. Who had any right giving her an ass like that? It lures my mind to dark, forbidden places, like what it would feel like to grab it in my hands, lift her to me and press her against a tree.

I want to feel her. Touch her. I want to brush my thumb over that tiny dimple in her chin, skim my hand over the flare of her hip, tangle my fingers with hers, and justfeel. I want to fucking feel something, anything, and I just want it to feelright.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say. “I’m in my own head today. Every day, really.”

“That’s okay. I live in mine. It’s an overwhelming place to be sometimes. Oh!” She claps my shoulder and turns, walking backward in front of me. “Do you ever do that worst-case-scenario thing?”

I lift a brow. “Worst-case-scenario thing?”

She lays a hand over her chest. “I’m a worst-case-scenario expert.” She flips back around and joins my side, clutching my elbow as we walk. “So I start by thinking about one seemingly insignificant thing, and then I accidentally think of something bad that could happen because of it, then another something bad, and before I know it, I’ve got a list of all the horrible, terrifying things that could go wrong if I wade too deep in the water, or if I go for a walk at night time, or if I grow a backbone, open my mouth, and finally tell somebody no.” She watches my blank face for a moment, then cringes. “Sorry. My level of anxiety is almost always unmatched.” She points at Piglet, roaming up ahead with Bear. “Except with Pig. And see, now I’m doing that worst-case-scenario thing where I’m thinking you suddenly wish you hadn’t asked me to walk with you, and now you’re thinking of ways to end this, and what if you’re desperate enough to roll me right off the cliff?” Wide eyes stare up at me. “Please don’t kill me.”

A rumble of laughter escapes from deep in my chest, and I toss an arm around her shoulders. “I wouldn’t dream of taking you out. How would I stare at your purple pants?”

“You mean my butt?”

“Careful, trouble.”

There’s that flush, the same color as her name, blotching those cheekbones.

“I get what you mean, though,” I tell her. “I get lost in my thoughts, and they run away with things that could go wrong, how I might not be seeing something clearly, or how history might repeat itself. It’s confusing and…”

“Daunting.”

“Yeah, it is. Makes me pause about a lot of things.

“Makes me miss out on a lot of chances,” she adds quietly.

“Hey.” Nudging her side, I smile, because I want to see hers again. “Keep me around, and you won’t miss out on anything. I’ll show up at the shelter so you don’t have a choice.”

She cracks a wide, hopeful grin, extra parts goofy. “One might think you’re stalking me.”

“That’s what I said! My friend said girls like that stuff, though.”

Her eyes come to mine, curious and a little hesitant, another blush staining her cheeks. “You talked to your friend about me?”

There’s a part of me, such a large part, that’s uncertain. Worried I’m seeing something, feeling something that isn’t really here. That I’ve gotten desperate enough to convince myself she’s interested. I mean,reallyinterested. And that fear steals my words.

Instead, I smile softly and take her hand, helping her over a cluster of rocks and to the bridge. She drops to her butt on the edge of the wood, feet dangling over the creek, and I sink down beside her. The dogs rush to her side when she pulls her backpack onto her lap, and I watch as Bear behaves like a perfect angel as she has him sit tall and still, showing him his cookie before she offers it to him. He takes it delicately and licks her cheek when he’s done. Rosie giggles and kisses his nose before doing the same with Piglet, and after lapping some water from a collapsible bowl, the two dogs curl up together behind us.

“Piglet seems to like Bear,” I observe.

“Because she’s so anxious with people, she doesn’t get much in the way of pup socialization at Wildheart. She’s selective about who she gives her trust to, and it makes me sad to think of her spending so much time in her own head. I’m so happy that she’s made a friend.”

“Then we should walk together every Saturday, huh?”

Rosie smiles down at her bag. “If you’d like to.”

“I would. Would you?”

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