have any phobias, per se. He guessed he might be a little claustrophobic; heâd had a construction site injury once and when the doctor sent him for an MRI heâd found the experience hellish. Given the breadth of his shoulders, heâd been crammed in that damn tunnel as if it were the skin of a sausage and he was the innards. And heâd had to lie there for an aeon. Yeah, being buried alive wouldnât be highon his list. But it wasnât the worst thing, although it was oddly akin.
âBeing trapped,â he finally said quietly. âAny freedom of choice taken away from me. Spending my entire life doing what I have to do, no matter how desperately I chafe at it.â
Now where had that come from? It was true, every word of it, but he didnât think heâd ever spoken the words aloud. God help him, thatâs what his life had been like since the day heâd taken the phone call in his college dorm telling him his parents were dead. He hadnât known what he wanted to do with his life yet, but it wasnât going to be construction. Heâd worked summers for his dad for the past five years, and that was enough.
Until all choice had been yanked from him when he realized his brothers and sister had no one else.
He couldnât regret the decisions heâd made then. He loved Clay, Jack and Sophie. But these past couple weeks, knowing the end was in sight, heâd felt like a kid whoâd suffered through his school years looking toward high school graduation.
Free at last.
He felt Moiraâs scrutiny. Finally she nodded, but said softly, âLifeâs made up of obligations, though, isnât it?â
âBut we ought to be able to choose the ones we take on, donât you think?â
Her head tilted, reminding him of a curious bird. Perhaps the owl heâd likened her to earlier, with downy, unruly feathers around the enormous, unblinking eyes.
With that tilt of the head, enough light touched her face that he thought, green. Her eyes were green.
âYes,â she said. âIâm a big fan of free choice.â Her fingers wriggled in his, and she glanced down in apparent puzzlement.
So sheâd finally noticed that they had been holding hands for the past ten minutes. Although reluctant, he released hers.
âIf youâll excuse me, my feet are killing me and I think I had too much to drink. Iâm about to conk out.â
âYouâre not planning to drive, are you?â
She shook her head. âI think Iâll get a room.â
Will smiled at her. âIâll walk you down.â
âYou donât have toââ
âIt would be my pleasure,â he said with a formality unusual to him.
After a moment, she murmured, âThen, thank you.â She started toward the open doors, and he strolled at her side.
When they reached the ballroom, he could hardly tear his eyes from her face. She was indeed pretty, but in a way that contrasted with her curvaceous, seductive body. Her cheeks were round, her forehead high, giving her an unexpected look of vulnerability, and her milk-pale skin was dusted with pale gold freckles. Her eyes were green, but flecked with gold, too. And her eyebrows, like the hair on her head, were the pure color of copper.
She lookedâ¦innocent, which made him feel guilty for wondering if the rest of her body was freckled, too, if the nipples crowning her generous breasts were pink or dusky brown, whether her pubic hair was copper bright, too.
He almost groaned. Yes, of course it was. And, damn it, he had no business thinking this way when he couldnât start anything with her. He was tying up the last strands of this part of his life, not opening any new packages. However enticing this one was.
Moira greeted a couple of people, and he did the same. They even had a few mutual acquaintances, none of whomseemed to think anything of the fact that they knew each other. He wondered what
Dani Evans, Okay Creations