12. Monsters in the Dark

TWELVE

MONSTERS IN THE DARK

Let It Go, James Bay

Roe

It’s 4:30 am and I am scrambling to find things to make for breakfast. There’s not much here since I forgot to get groceries and everything is closed—so I guess it will be a PB he exudes confidence, even when he’s just sitting there.

“Why did you bring me breakfast and a smoothie?” I ask, standing still in the same position.

“ Thank you would be the proper response when someone brings you breakfast, princesa. Didn’t your mom teach you manners?” he asks, unintentionally hitting a nerve.

“Well, she’s dead. Whatever manners she taught me went to the grave with her,” I snap, placing the bag beside the smoothie on the table. “I don’t need breakfast, but thanks.”

“Roe, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” His face looks sincere, like he truly does feel sorry for my loss. Not pity behind his eyes—just true understanding. “I know sorry doesn’t change the facts but I am,” he adds. He’s either a big empath or he knows grief too.

“Who did you lose?” I ask, because apparently I have zero self-control when it comes to this man.

He stays quiet for a moment before saying, “My little sister.” Time freezes still. What am I supposed to say to that? Do I sit down and unpack all my trauma? Do I open the door for him to share more? No, neither of those are options. I closed the door to my soul years ago and it’s sealed shut. So, changing the topic it is.

“Why did you bring me breakfast, Saint?” I ask again, holding his stare.

“You forgot to eat yesterday and fainted while running by yourself in the middle of a dark national forest. You barely had food in your fridge yesterday. This way, I can at least make sure you’re fed before we leave,” he answers casually, sipping on his smoothie.

I open the bag and see a flaky pastry. It looks absolutely delicious and freshly made.

“Did you make this?” I ask, half shocked and half flattered. Did this man cook something for me?

“Sure did,” he replies with a smug grin.

I smell it and quickly take a bite, closing my eyes and practically moaning into the crunchy dough. “Oh my God, this is heaven. Thank you I add, tasting the explosion of flavors in my mouth and he laughs. “What is this?” I say in between bites of what seems like cheese. It’s still warm, like he just made it before he came here.

“It’s an empanada. My mom’s recipe.” He winks and holy shit, he just got even hotter. A man that looks like that – tall with perfectly sun-kissed skin, square jaw, mysterious tattoos, and with eyes like the blazing sun, who is respectful and a gentleman and cooks like this – how the hell is he not taken? He looks at me with contentment and smiles softly.

I finish eating the empanada, making obnoxious sounds, and throw the bag away. I take a few sips of the smoothie he made—also fucking fantastic—and put the rest in the fridge for when we get back. If I eat anything else I won’t be able to move. I take my spoonful of coconut oil and watch him practically gag. I motion for him to get up and we walk to the door. We are heading out when he grabs my arm, stopping me from going further, and I turn to look at him.

“Are you going to lock up?” he asks with concern in his eyes.

“Nah, I never do. It’ll be fine,” I say.

“Roe,” he replies, softening his eyes on me.

“Saint,” I sass, snatching my arm from him.

“You can’t leave your house unlocked. Was it unlocked all night? Is that why it was open when I got here?” he asks incredulously.

“You seriously need to drop the habit of telling people what to do. I’m a big girl, Saint. I don’t have to be afraid of monsters in the dark.”

He closes the space between us. He smells like the ocean, salty and fresh. His essence engulfs me and my whole body is practically humming. And the man is not even touching me.

“It seems like you are used to living in this bubble where nothing bad happens, but there are a lot of monsters out there, princesa, and I don’t mean just the ones in fairytales. Lock your doors.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, pretty boy. Are you here to act like my dad or are we going for a run?” I start jogging down the street, trying to hide how his presence affects me. Damn him.

He falls in step next to me, looking forward while completely ignoring me. We stay quiet for the whole trail run and all the way back. Six miles of pure silence and complete peace somehow. This is the first time in a long time that my brain is fully present and not juggling a million things. The only things on my mind are why do I find his presence comforting and how do I get over this ?