Wicked(45)

All day a weird knot of nervousness, excitement, and dread bounced around inside me like a rubber ball thrown against a wall. I didn't want to look too closely at the source, but the moment I saw Ren, I thought about what Val had said yesterday and what I'd done that morning.

Heat crawled across my cheeks, and I almost spun around. But where would I go? Hide in an overflowing garbage can? Running from Ren when I'd gladly fight a fae was just stupid. I had no reason to be weird or embarrassed or anything. I needed to chill out. Squaring my shoulders, I tipped my chin as I walked past the entrance of the gift shop.

Ren tipped his head in my direction and smiled. Two dimples appeared as he extended his arm toward me. Between his long fingers was a deep blue, almost violet rose on a single stem.

My gaze flipped from the rose to him then back to the rose. "I . . . I don't understand."

"For you," he said, pushing off the wall and coming to his full height.

I dragged my gaze back to his. "Me?"

His eyes glimmered. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Honey, if you don't want that rose from him, I'll take it," came from a woman, a random woman just strolling down the road. She eyed Ren with a saucy grin. "And I'll take him."

The heat in my cheeks increased, and the woman's laugh as she stumbled on down the street was eventually lost in the call of police sirens from somewhere nearby.

"I saw this on my way here, and I thought of you." Lifting the rose, he tapped it on the tip of my nose. The petals smelled fresh. "They almost match your eyes."

My lips parted as I stared at him.

Lowering the rose, he dipped his head as he leaned in. His nose grazed my cheek as he spoke in my ear. "This is the part where you take the rose from me."

A series of tight shivers danced over my skin as my pulse exploded from the slight, innocent touch. I watched him pull back, his green eyes searing. Mouth dry, I took the rose. "Thank you."

He cocked his head to the side. "I'm actually surprised."

"About what?"

"You said thank you. I didn't think you would." He shrugged one broad shoulder. "I figured there was a good chance you'd toss the rose in my face."

Holding the rose close to my chest, I wondered what he thought of me if he honestly expected that. "I must've made a great first impression."

"First couple of impressions," he corrected gamely. "Then again, I don't blame you considering how those instances were initiated."

Incredibly self-conscious, I nodded as I twisted to the side. Shrugging off one strap of my backpack, I unzipped the bag and carefully placed it in the front pocket.

"What do you carry around in that bag?" he asked. "Doesn't look too light."

"Textbooks. Notebooks." I zipped the bag back up. "It's not too heavy."

He shifted closer to me, stepping aside to let someone walk past. "Textbooks? You go—"

"Ivy!" shouted Jerome from inside the gift shop. His roar was so loud I thought it might've shaken the windows. "Get your ass in here!"

Ren stiffened as he turned, his eyes narrowing, but I sighed as I slipped the strap back up my shoulders. "Be right back," I said, turning and opening the door.

The door didn't swing shut. Ren caught it, two steps behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, but he was staring straight ahead at the crotchety old man behind the counter. The playful smile was nowhere to be seen, and his green eyes were cold.

I opened my mouth but Ren beat me. Stepping around me, he stalked up to the counter and planted both hands on the glass case. "Is that how you talk to the lady?"

Oh geez.

Jerome's black brows climbed up his forehead as he met Ren stare for stare. "Who in the hell do you think you are?"

"Someone who thinks you could learn to use a little respect," he fired back.

I wiggled between Ren and a display of voodoo feathers that smelled like patchouli. "Ren, it's okay."

He didn't take that glare off Jerome. "Not okay with me."

Jerome crossed his arms and straightened, expression permanently sullen. I was surprised the deep grooves of his face hadn't truly frozen in a scowl. "No one asked you, boy."

"All right." I held up a hand as Ren looked as if he was about to grab the old man and put him in a chokehold. "Seriously. It's okay. He's not being disrespectful." I glanced at Jerome. "Well, it's not a personal thing. He's a jerk to everyone."

"Not everyone," he replied in a surly tone.

I shot him a bland look. "Your dog doesn't count."

A terse moment passed, and Ren finally looked down at me. Some of the hardness had left his gaze, but he still didn't look thrilled. "Still not cool."