Page 116 of Inked in Bloom
“What if I can’t give you what you want?”
His brows knit over his spectacles. “What have I asked you to give?”
“Nothing. But I know where all roads lead.” I shove a fingernail against my sternum. “This bond. And maybe you’re okay with sitting out this ceremony. But how many will pass until you grow tired of waiting around for me?”
It’s been over a year since the mate mark showed up and so much has changed. I no longer blame Briar for my death, no longer want to run from my afterlife, but I’m still not ready to take that step. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be.
“Is that what you think I’ve been doing?” A vein bulges along his neck and the corner of his bearded jaw ticks. “Waiting around for you?”
“Isn’t it?” I toss my hands in the air and step back from him. “You’re giving me time to come to my senses and give in.”
“What is it you don’t want togive into, Monroe?”
“I don’t know. Wanting you. The bond. All of it.” My stomach twists, sharp and stabbing. I grab my abdomen, inhale and exhale until I’m no longer rooted in place. I glance at the door.
“I thought you were done running away,” Briar says, and when I finally muster the courage to look back up at him, that pain I’m feeling is reflected at me tenfold.
“I am.” I swallow down my exasperation. Hiding in the mortal realm didn’t fix my problems and leaving now won’t solve them. “I’m just…” I take the anger rolling through me and instead of brushing it aside, I dig into the discomfort. “Frustrated.”
“You’re frustrated?” He huffs out a laugh and raises his brows, shaking his head at me. “Right there with you.”
His hands tuck behind his back and his demeanor shifts. One step at a time, the distance closes between us again, and his nose twitches above me.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I ask, my composure slipping from our proximity.
Keeping his voice low, he bends forward. At first, I think he’ll kiss me, and my entire body stills, anticipating the gentle brush of his lips. When they meet my skin, they skim up my cheek, stopping at my ear. “I heard somewhere that art is a great form of stress relief.”
A palm splats against my forehead, fingers dragging over my cheek, leaving a wet smear. I gasp, swiping across mynose. Yellow paint stains my fingertip. I glare up at him. “You’re so dead.”
“You’re right.” He chuckles. “I am. And so are you.”
“Asshole.” Though for the first time, the thought doesn’t sting so much. “I’m going to get you for that.”
“Not if you can’t catch me.” He shifts his weight to the side and takes off like a dart.
Oh, it’s on.
47
BRIAR
“What happens when I catch you?” Monroe watches me from across a row of camellia hedges, yellow streaks of paint covering her brow, cheek, and the tip of her nose. I pull another tube out from my back pocket, squirting some purple on my hands.
“If you catch me. You can use me as your canvas.” I twitch my nose, and the stalks shoot skyward. She jolts back, eyes trailing up to where they end, giving me another head start. I pass her, leaving a purple print along her side.
“And that benefitsmehow?” She scowls at me, glancing down at her paint-smeared shirt.
I shrug. “Saves you some time trying to steal something to rage paint.”
“I was just planning to rummage through your cabinets next time I was over,” she says before dropping out of sight.
I take a few steps backward. “No need. I’ll let you take your frustration out directly on the source.”
I lower myself to get a better sense of where she is, but vines wrap around my ankles and wrists, and I’m tugged onto my knees. Mint waves and soft-pink skin marred with yellow comes into view. “Gotcha.”
“Well played, Dr. Tanner.” I chuckle, and the vinesrelease me. Remaining on the ground, I twitch my nose, my shirt and jeans disappearing.
Monroe sucks in a breath and her eyes widen, pupils expanding within the green of her stare. “What are you doing?”
