Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Chapter Twelve
Blaze
I hold the flowers in front of me as I stride past the empty receptionist desk and down the hall where all the cubicles are. I couldn’t stand it anymore and thought I’d surprise Rosabelle with being a little early with flowers she could keep at her workspace. I just couldn’t wait anymore and the anticipation of getting to spend all night with her is enough to have me sitting in the parking lot for the past hour.
I’m trying to fight my smile because I want to appear cool and casual, but it’s no use. There might as well be a bag of puppies inside me just leaping to get to her.
“Ugh, why has she still got that stupid blue hair?”
The words on the other side of the cubicle have me stopping dead in my tracks. Blue hair? Are they talking about my Rosabelle?
“Tasha, you are so bad,” a woman jokes, and it doesn’t sound like she’s scolding her at all.
“I’m just saying, she looks like a freak. This is a professional job and she keeps coming in like it’s a rave,” I hear her sigh, and people giggle. “Seriously, she’s not twelve. Grow up.”
“When I see older women with color like that in their hair I think they’re just trying to hold on to some part of their youth,” someone else says. “Like let it go, you're an adult, not a cartoon character.”
I have to bite down hard on my tongue to keep from going over the divider and giving them a piece of my mind. Grow up? A cartoon character? Are these women serious? Who the fuck cares what color her goddamn hair is? It’s not hurting anyone and it looks beautiful. Do they really have nothing better to do than sit around and put down my girl? No, fuck that.
Just as I open my mouth and take a step forward, Rosabelle comes around the corner and sees me. Her eyes widen with complete and utter joy as she smiles at the flowers.
“Are those for me?”
I tamp down my anger and nod, then watch her melt with delight.
Those catty women are not worth it. Nothing I’m going to say is going to make that hateful part of their souls go away, and giving them more ammo to sling at Rosabelle isn’t what I want either. I won’t forget what I heard, and as I wrap her in my arms I see those women peeking around the wall and I make a point to remember them. They look scared when they realize what I could have just heard, and I’m sure the glare I’m giving them doesn’t help.
“They’re so beautiful,” Rosabelle says, taking the hydrangeas from me and holding them close to her face.
“Not as beautiful as you.” I brush my knuckles against her soft cheek and she closes her eyes. “I know I’m early. Why don’t you show me your desk?”
I take her by the hand and lead her away from the group of hyenas to distract myself from saying something that might put her work reputation in jeopardy. I know she said she’s quitting, but she might need a reference or something. I should ask April if they have any openings in dispatch. I bet Rosabelle would be so good at that. Her voice is always so soft and calm. I’ll have to mention it to her later and see what she thinks. Or maybe she could just take a break from working and stay with me all the time. I don’t have to go in but a couple of days a week, and the rest of the time we could be together.
The thought of spending every morning and every night holding on to her does things to my insides. The types of things that have me planning ten steps ahead and looking to the future. I never had that before and I can’t stop thinking about it now.
“So this is me,” she says as she waves a hand at the blank space.
“Did you already clean it out?” I ask, giving her a side eye.
She laughs and shakes her head. “No, I think it just never felt like home so I didn’t bother trying to make it that way.” She shrugs as she sets the flowers on her desk. “But this is quite an improvement. Maybe they’ll still be pretty after my two weeks are up.”
“I’ll get you more if they start to wilt.” I pull her to me and bury my face in her neck as I just hold her. God, nothing makes me feel better than when she’s in my arms. Why is just a hug from her the best thing in the world? Of course kissing her and putting my hands on her is beyond anything I’ve ever felt, but just hugging her makes everything okay.