Page 35 of Shattered Trinket
Curse my pale skin’s ability to show my every emotion when my face doesn’t!
I clear my throat and tuck a loose curl behind my ear. Something about them thinking I’m adorableandcutedoes funny things to me, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
Taking a deep breath, I figure now is as good of time as any to bring up the scent match situation. Mostly because I’ve decided that I’d like to spend more time with them, get to know them more. I’m probably going to give them a ton of reasons about why they shouldn’t want me, but if that doesn’t deter them, then fine.
I want to give them a chance, even Ridge, but I can admit I’m still terrified. What if we start spending time together and they realize I’m not worth the trouble? What if they end up not actually liking anything about me once they truly get to know me?
What if, what if, what if…
But what if they love me and every broken piece that’s been left behind?
And that what if… that what if keeps me from just completely shutting it all down and hiding away.
I was a little surprised to realize how bummed I was when I didn’t see Ridge with Zeke and Manny when we got home earlier. I’d kind of hoped to see him again as well when I noticed they were here, but maybe next time.
“Can I ask you something?” I finally choke out, my voice tentative as I glance at them both.
They shift slightly, turning themselves inward so they can both face me, and butterflies riot in my chest and belly at having the full weight of their gazes on me. My throat dries, and I fight to swallow without choking on my tongue. Another deep breath to gather my courage back up that’s trying to skip away now that their attention is on me fully.
“Ask away,” Manny says, shrugging his shoulders and giving me a quick side grin that melts my heart a little.
I puff out my cheeks and blow out a breath as I start picking at a loose piece of string on my jeans.
How does one just outright ask strangers if they’re yours?
“A-are we scent matches?” I finally just blurt out because that seemed like a valid way to approach this.
I can’t look at them, but I can feel it when their eyes leave me to look at each other. I feel so silly suddenly, a black hole opening its gaping maw in my belly as my gut roils with nerves, the butterflies seeming to have dispersed.
They don’t let the quiet linger for too long, and eventually I feel a finger under my chin, lifting my head until I’m looking into Emmanuel’s dark brown eyes. My muscles lock up as I stiffen at first, but he doesn’t move or look away from me, his eyes seeming to stare deep down into my soul until he finds what he’s looking for. His brow quirks up just the tiniest bit, his finger still under my chin, and when he adds his thumb, effectively gripping me and holding me in place, every bit of oxygen in my lungs completely disappears with a sigh as my body goes lax like magic.
“And if we are,sirenita?”
Little mermaid.
His eyes are like decadent dark chocolate, so smooth and clear as they flick across my face, taking in everything. Emmanuelisn’t massive like his pack mate or Jeremiah, but he’s still solid. It’s clear by the rough texture of his hand on my face that he’s a man that isn’t afraid of hard work, the callouses reminding me of how my father’s were after so many years of working for the farm where he’d been employed. His bronze skin is such a contrast against the pale, milky white of my own, and I want to trace the thin mustache he has that connects with a faded and neat beard, see if it’ll scratch against my skin like I imagine or be softer to the touch.
He’s beautiful… handsome… whatever word you want to use, and I’m so enamored by him right now as he holds my chin in place and gives me unending eye contact. I don’t even remember what I asked or what he said back at this point, and I don’t care. I just want to keep this feeling I have right now. This feeling of safety and… relief at not being so on edge and alert. The feeling of release as he somehow has managed to take away all the stress and anxiety rattling in my brain and make it quiet just from this one action.
“If we are, Cozette?” he asks again, and I blink slowly before licking my suddenly dry lips.
“Are you… mine?” I whisper, my voice cracking marginally.
Large hands wrap themselves around my upper arms as Zeke’s massive body inches closer to me, his body heat surrounding me and giving me an extra layer of comfort, like a security blanket.
“Sí,Sirenita.We’re yours if you want us.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat, lost in a sea of dark chocolate. Zeke’s phone rings at my back and his hands leave me, but I can’t look away from Emmanuel as he continues holding my face hostage. The ball is in my court now, but I can’t help but try to dissuade them.
“I’m damaged. I don’t know if I can give you what you want,” I murmur, my eyes getting misty as I stare into his.
“I don’t know your story yet, Cozette, but I want to. All we want is a chance. If you’ll let me, I’m a pretty good shoulder to lean on. I’m much stronger than I look,” he whispers back.
“I’m scarred, inside and out. Why would you want me?”
“I can hate the cause of your scars while still finding them beautiful because they’re a part of you.”
My breath catches in my lungs as tears balance precariously on my lashes, and when he reaches up with his free hand to cup my cheek, his thumb swipes the lone tear that finally falls straight away.