Jolie
"Love is in the air," I sing to myself as I use a small step ladder to wire garlands of daisies onto the wooden arch that'll be used during the ceremony for tomorrow's scheduled wedding. It'll be held at the function center my cousins Dottie and Duke run together with their respective spouses, Theo and Ava, and I just know it's going to be absolutely magical. I've personally made sure every single request has been carried out to a T, from the bride's favorite flowers down to the groom's preferred champagne.
And before you ask, no, I'm not a wedding planner. I'm just a college student on her summer break who's a hopeless romantic and would prefer to work at her cousin's function center watching people in love get married over slaving away at an unpaid internship for the sake of a few lines on my resume come graduation.
As I finish with the last of the garlands, I tug on the end to make sure it's secured properly then step down to admire my handiwork with a happy sigh. I can't help but feel a little envious of the bride. This time tomorrow, she'll be walking down the aisle to marry her soulmate when I've never even had so much as a crush mate.
It gives me a stomachache admitting it, but I'm pushing twenty-one, and I'm yet to even experience my first kiss. It's starting to feel like I'm never going to meet a man who looks at the plus-sized, glasses-wearing me and decides that I'm exactly what he's been looking for all his life. In all honesty, I don't think I've had a man look at me and think anything much at all. I'm the kind of girl who fades into the background.
But that doesn't mean I can't love the idea of love. And while I'm here for the summer, taking a break from my studies to soak up the fresh mountain air and help out where I can, it's nice to watch these couples, happy and devoted, pledging to spend their lives together, till death do they part. And I'm not so cynical that I can't dream that one day, the girl standing there in the beautiful white dress could be me.
Well, I'm not that cynical yet, anyway. Ask me again if I'm still single when I'm thirty and it might be a different story.
As I'm lost in my thoughts, I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn to see the shadowy figure of a man exiting the venue.
"Hey! You!" I shout, my heart kicking up from the fright. I'm supposed to be the only one in here. I watch as the man’s figure quiets and turns toward me. His face is shrouded in darkness, and I cannot make out any of his features. He doesn't say anything—just stands there, staring at me.
I gulp, kind of wishing I'd kept my mouth shut now that I see the size of him. I'd be forgiven for thinking I'd just come face to face with big foot, he's that big and imposing. I've come to Whisper Valley a few times now during my college breaks, so I've met almost everyone who lives in this tiny town in some fashion. And besides the Valentines who live on the east side of the mountain, I don't know any men who'd fit the description a Sasquatch. Lord, please don't let me die a lonely virgin in a wedding venue...
But if this has to be the moment in which I die, I don't want anyone to talk about that part. I just want them to focus on the fact that I was really good at school and could cultivate a flourishing garden out of a few clippings and a handful of seeds.
That's my real passion, you know. Plants. At college, I'm studying horticulture, and I'm hoping that when I'm finished, I might be able to convince my cousins to hire me to manage their vineyard. So, as you can see, I'm really not done living my life yet. I have goals. I have dreams. I need to have the sex and grow the grapes. I don't need this random stranger to crush me with his bare hands.
Pushing my glasses up my nose, I close my eyes and try to will my out-of-control fears away.
"Can I help you with something?" I ask cautiously, when the man doesn't say anything. He doesn't respond, and I can feel my palms start to sweat. My heart is pounding in my chest, but before I can say anything else, he takes a step forward into the light, and I quickly go from being fearful to speechless.
Standing before me, wearing a pair of worn jeans, a blue flannel and a green apron advertising the local florist is the hottest, most manly man I've ever seen.
I take a step back, the roll of wire falling from my hands and hitting the ground as I stammer out the only word that comes to mind. "H-h-hot."
"I beg your pardon?" the man says, frowning as I keep my eyes locked on him, my whole body lighting up in a way it never has the closer he gets.
"S-so h-hot," I say, seeming unable to form any coherent thought in my head. It's embarrassing, but there's something about this man that has completely thrown me off balance, my glasses steaming up. I can feel his eyes on me, his gaze raking over my body, and I try to remind myself that I'm smart and capable, not just some silly girl who's lost control of herself.
The man raises a brow, looking at me skeptically. "Are you OK, miss?" he asks, and I'm ashamed to realize that I'm still staring at him like some kind of love-struck teenager. I clear my throat and try to regain my composure.
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," I say, finally tearing my gaze away from him. "I'm sorry, It's just... It's hot today. Don't you think? The weather..." Great cover up job, Jolie. This is exactly why you're still single.
The man chuckles, a deep and throaty sound that sends shivers down my spine. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he steps even closer, his body now merely inches away from mine.
"I see," he says, and his voice is like honey dripping down my skin. "Well, I'm glad it's just the weather that's got you flustered."
I can feel the heat radiating off him and my knees start to tremble. It's been so long since I've been close to a man like this. Suddenly, the wirework project I was working on seems so trivial. All I can think about is how badly I want to feel his hands on my skin, to taste his lips on mine. I shake my head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts from my mind. I don't even know this man, and yet he has me feeling things I haven't felt in all my years. What's going on with me?
Busying myself by bobbing down to pick up the roll of wire I drop on the floor, I try to shake the unsettling feeling that has my skin on fire with the need to tear my clothes off and his.
"Is there something I can help you with?" I squeak when I stand back up. Yes, I looked at his dick while I was down there, and yes, that bulge was impressive.
"I was on my way out when you called me back. I was just setting down a delivery." He gestures to his apron where the name, Dole's Flower Shop is embroidered in the center. "The name's Jack. I'm doing the deliveries while my mother is recovering from her eye surgery. Sorry if I startled you."
I nod, still trying to calm down the racing beat of my heart. "Jolie," I say, offering him a small smile. "I don't think you startled me. It's just...the heat." I look away from him, feeling a flush heat up my cheeks. Of course, it's not just the heat that's making me feel this way. It's him, with his deep voice and rugged appearance. I want to reach out and touch him, to see if he's real or just a figment of my wild imagination.
"The heat. Of course," Jack says, his voice low and smooth as velvet. "It can make people do crazy things." He takes a step closer, his gaze intense as he looks down at me. I feel small under his scrutiny, but at the same time, I feel a kind of electricity sparking between us. "But don't worry, it won't last forever."
I swallow hard, my gaze locked on his lips as he speaks. I can't focus on anything else but him, and the magnetic pull I feel toward him. It’s becoming unbearable. When did I become so desperate that I'm enamored with a complete stranger?
As if sensing my inner turmoil, Jack hands me the delivery slip and says, "Well, I should get going. Nice meeting you, Jolie." He turns to leave, but before he can take a step, I reach out and grab his arm.
"Wait," I say, surprised by my own boldness. But it doesn't do much good when he stops and turns back to me, and my mind goes completely blank. "Um...wh-where did you put the flowers?" He frowns slightly, and I already know how stupid my question was since I work here and damn well know where the flower deliveries go. "The cool room."
I let go of his arm, feeling like a complete idiot. He turns to leave again, but this time I don't reach out to stop him. Instead, I watch him go with a sense of longing that I can't explain. It's like something in me has woken up after years of hibernation, and I don't know what to do about it.
Jack
Driving back to the flower shop, my thoughts are a jumble of confusion and surprise. I'm normally so adept at avoiding people, preferring the solitude of my mountainside home over being anywhere near the town and residents of Whisper Valley. But with my mother, the town's florist, recovering from eye surgery and unable to drive, I've had no choice but to venture out amongst the people to make her deliveries.
And it hasn't been all bad. Most days, it's as simple as knocking on a door and handing a bouquet of flowers over. But today, with a wedding planned at the big function center that re-opened about a year ago, the delivery I had was much bigger. I'd psyched myself up for it, thinking I'd have to deal with some over the top wedding planner harping all over me and telling me that everything I'm doing is wrong. But when I arrived to find the place practically deserted, I was more than happy to follow the signage and drop the order off in the cool room as instructed. It all seemed too easy.
And it was. I never expected to meet someone like Jolie as I was headed back to the delivery van. The way she looked at me with those piercing brown glasses-framed eyes with tiny little gold flecks in them, it was like she could see right through me. And if I'm not mistaken, she also called me hot. That was interesting. I don't think I've ever had a gorgeous brunette with hips just the way I like, look at me and call me anything other than big, giant, huge—I've also been called an ape.
So to have this pretty curvy thing get all tongue-tied around me was a new experience, indeed.
It's been a long time since I had a woman flutter her eyelashes at me like that or gaze deeply into my eyes as though she were trying to decipher the mysteries of the universe. It's been even longer since I've really looked back.
But I couldn't get too worked up about it. She's young. Too young. And me, well, I'm as ornery as they come. And if that girl had the chance to spend just ten minutes alone with me, she'd probably see that for herself and those starlight-filled eyes of hers would very quickly clear and find the clarity of every woman who came before—Jack Dole is a grouchy asshole who's so set in his ways, he doesn't have space for anyone or anything else. Best to steer clear.
I pull up outside the flower shop and quickly jump out of the van, grabbing the clipboard from the back seat and heading inside, trying to push all thoughts of the curvy young Jolie out of my head.
Toward the back of the shop, Mom looks up from where she's pushing flowers into some foam and greets me with a warm smile. "How'd it go?" she asks, her eyes bright with anticipation.
I shrug, not wanting to get into details about my experience at Jolie's workplace. My mother has a desperate desire for me, her only son, to get married and provide her with grandbabies, so any hint of me hitting it off with someone would send her into matchmaking mode. And since that's the last thing I want, I just hand her the completed list on the clipboard and grunt out a, "No trouble at all."
"What did you think of the vineyard?" she calls after me when I head off to find something else to do. "I should have asked you to pick up a bottle of their wine so we could try it with dinner tonight."
"I didn't look, Mom. I just dropped off the flowers and left."
"No one was there?" She seems surprised by this, and I look at her with a quirked brow.
"Why? Was there someone you were hoping I'd meet?"
Her face instantly turns pink as she looks away and puts her focus back on her work. "They just have a lot of staff out there, is all. Seems strange no one was there when there's an event tomorrow."
"Oh, I'm sure they were there and just busy. You know how quiet I can slip in and out when I want to."
"Yes," she says, pressing her lips into a thin line. "You're the ultimate recluse."
"And that's exactly how I like it," I say, giving her a smile and a wink, just as the phone rings and I reach out to pick it up. "Dole's Flower Shop."
Taking out a pen and a piece of paper, I jot down the order details for a delivery to celebrate the customer's wedding anniversary, along with a heartfelt message to put on the card to tell his wife how much she means to me.
When I finish up, I sit there quietly, staring at his words and feeling a pang of envy. I wish I had someone in my life who made me feel that way, but instead, I'm just the grumpy recluse who spends most of his time actively avoiding people.
As I stare and stare, a wave of something I can't explain comes over me, and I put my pen to the paper, words flowing from my hands as I scribble out a short poem about Jolie's beauty and youthfulness. As the words form, I quickly realize how creepy it sounds—not to mention the fact that I’m the worst poet in history and can’t rhyme for shit—and tear the page from the notepad and shove it into my pocket out of view. No matter how wildly my body reacted to her, I have no right thinking of her that way. The best thing here is for me to leave her well enough alone.
Jolie
"I think the only thing that's left is to stop in at the flower shop to check on our orders, and then we can head back," Dottie says as we walk down the street together after a morning filled with running errands.
I nod in agreement, the weight of the bags in my hand becoming heavier with each step. "Sounds like a plan. Do you think Mrs. Dole will be there. Or...or do you think maybe her son is still running things?" I ask, trying my best to sound nonchalant when enquiring about Jack. I haven't been able to get him off my mind since I met him last week, and if I'm completely honest with myself, I've been counting down the days to our next flower delivery in the hopes I'll get to see him again.
I know, I'm lame. We've already established this.
"Her son?" Dottie asks, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. "You mean Jack?"
My cheeks heat up at the sound of his name, and I quickly try to play it off. "Oh, yeah. Him. I was just wondering if he's still helping out around there."
"I think so. Mrs. Dole's surgery made her temporarily short-sighted, so she can't drive for about six weeks, I think."
"Oh. OK. So we might run into him then?"
"Your chances are pretty high there." Dottie gives me a knowing smile, but thankfully doesn't push the issue further.
We turn the corner, and the flower shop comes into view, a bright and colorful sign hanging above the door. The delivery van is parked right out front, and just knowing I could see Jack again at any moment has my heart beating wild with anticipation.
"You know what," Dottie says, stopping suddenly. "This stuff is getting heavy. Why don't you go in and talk to Mrs. Dole while I take everything back to the car?"
I don't even get a chance to respond before she's taking the bags from my arms and walking away.
"Meet me at the car when you're done. No hurry," she says, flashing a smile as she starts to walk away.
Butterflies burst to life in my stomach the moment I turn my attention back to the flower shop. I don't know why the idea of seeing a man I've only spoken to once—and very badly, at that—is making me break out into a sweat. But here we are. It's a nervousness even greater than sitting for my SATs.
"Just be normal," I whisper to myself under my breath, moving forward then immediately stopping again when I catch sight of Jack walking out of the building with buckets of fresh flowers tucked under each arm.
He sees me too. And for a brief moment he halts his movement, and we lock eyes. It takes all the courage I have to lift my hand and wave, but when he seems to knit his brow before hastily moving toward the back of the van, I try to hide my movement by brushing my fingers through my hair and adjusting my glasses. How embarrassing.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves before entering the flower shop. Mrs. Dole is the sweetest elderly woman you'll ever meet, but my eyes are glued to the door, my mind thinking about Jack's reaction to seeing me. Did he even remember me?
Once inside, I'm greeted by the sound of wind chimes tinkling overhead. The scent of fresh blossoms hits me, and a small smile spreads across my lips. There's something so calming about being surrounded by nature's own beauty.
"Jolie!" Mrs. Dole's eyes light up when she sees me. "It's so lovely to see you again. How can I help you today, dear?"
"Dottie sent me in to check on everything for this weekend," I reply.
"Of course, of course," she says, gesturing for me to follow her toward the back room where she creates her more delicate arrangements. "You can see I've made some of the longer-lasting garlands here already. And as for the brides' bouquets, everything is ordered to make them the day before."
"This is all beautiful," I say when she shows me her work as well as the sketches she's made to demonstrate the look of the bouquets the brides' will each carry down the aisle for the two weddings we have on the books this weekend. "You really outdo yourself every time."
"Thank you, dear. It's much easier at the moment since I've got my son here helping. He's that grouchy fellow loading the van out the front of the store. I'd hoped he'd introduce himself to you and Dottie when he made the delivery last weekend, but he said he didn't see anybody while he was there."
Didn't see anybody? I try to hide my instant disappointment. Was I not memorable enough to mention?
"Maybe I'll just say hi while I'm heading out."
"That'd be nice, dear. He's not the friendliest. So don't take any of his grunting to heart."
"I'll try not to, Mrs. Dole. Hope you feel better soon."
"Oh, I'm fine. Just tired of not being able to drive. My independence is important to me, you know. But Jack is a good boy and taking care of me."
I nod along, saying goodbye to Mrs. Dole and making my way out of the store. As I step outside, the sun hits me like a smack in the face. I squint my eyes and lift my hand up to shield them from the harsh rays.
That's when I notice Jack leaning against the side of the van, a cigarette between his lips. His eyes are closed, and he seems lost in thought. I walk over to him, clearing my throat to announce my presence. Startled, he opens his eyes abruptly and looks at me for a moment before averting his gaze.
"Hey," I say with a small smile. "I'm not sure if you remember me. I'm Jolie. We met at the function center last week."
He blows out a puff of smoke. "I remember," he says, voice gruff and low. "What brings you here?"
I nod toward the flower shop. "My cousin, Dottie—she owns the function center—wanted me to check on the arrangements for this weekend's weddings. Your mom said I should say hi. Introduce myself. You know, since you didn't meet anyone when you made the delivery."
He smirks, taking another drag of his cigarette. "You wanted me to tell my mom how hot you were that day?"
My cheeks flame as I stammer out a response. "N-no! I just thought that maybe you would have mentioned meeting someone. I mean, you didn't have to go into detail, but saying you didn't meet anyone seems a bit odd...don't you think?"
His brow quirks. "You want me to go in there and change my story? Will that work for you?" As the words leave his mouth, tendrils of smoke follow, and although he blows it away from me, I still wave my hand in front of my face and cough dramatically.
"I don't care what you do. Besides that.” I point at his cigarette. “It really is a disgusting habit."
"OK, starlight," he says, dropping the half-smoked cigarette to the ground and tilting his head and stomping it out while he blows the last of the smoke as far away from me as he can. "I just quit smoking for you. Happy?"
"I will be if that’s the truth," I reply, stepping away from him. But before I can make my exit, my foot catches on something and I stumble forward, arms flailing wildly as the concrete sidewalk draws ever closer to my face. I brace myself for the impact, but strong arms wrap around me, pulling me back up.
My heart racing, I turn to face Jack, his eyes filled with concern as he checks me over for injuries.
"You OK?" he asks, his voice softening somewhat from the gruff indifference it held before.
I nod, feeling self-conscious at how close we are. So close I can smell the smoke on him, but it's not altogether unpleasant when mixed with the lingering scent of the flowers he's been carrying and the unmistakable scent that I'm guessing is just him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, trying to steady myself as my balance is further encumbered by my reaction to him. "Thanks for catching me. That could have been messy."
He doesn't say anything, just looks at me with those intense, green eyes. For a moment, we just stare at each other, lost in the gravity of the situation. I can feel his heart beating against mine, and I'm suddenly aware of how close we are. My nipples feel so tight they could cut glass as my breasts press against his broad chest.
Perhaps it's the adrenaline, or perhaps it's something else entirely. But I find myself drawn to him, despite the fact that he's a grouch who's seemingly incapable of holding a conversation without sarcasm.
"You know, you're not as mean as you pretend to be," I say, breaking the momentary silence between us.
"Is that what you think?" he scoffs, quickly releasing me and putting some distance between us as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the cigarette packet before second-guessing himself and putting it right back in. I smile to myself internally. "Maybe I'm just being nice to you because I don't wanna be responsible for your hospital bills if you fall and break something."
I roll my eyes. "Sure, because catching me definitely makes up for being a complete jerk to me."
He shrugs, looking away from me. "I never claimed to be anything else."
I stare at him for a moment, watching his guarded expression. There's so much more to him than he lets on, so many layers waiting to be peeled back if only he'd let someone—someone like me—in.
"You know something, I might just have to make it my mission to uncover the real Jack," I say, folding my arms across my chest as I give him a mischievous look.
Jack furrows his brow skeptically. "Let me save you the trouble. I'm not worth your time."
He moves to leave, but I shake my head, taking a step closer to him. "Don't say that. You're worth more than you give yourself credit for."
Pausing before he gets to the driver's side of the van, he looks at me, surprise etching his features. "And what makes you so sure of that?"
"Because I see something in you," I say softly, my hand reaching up to brush a lock of my hair out of my face. "Something that's worth getting to know."
Jack's mouth kicks up slightly at the corners as he shakes his head then reaches into his pocket and shakes out a fresh cigarette. "You shouldn't waste your time on me, Jolie," he says, putting it between his lips as he pulls the car door open to get inside. "I'm no good for anyone."
"I'll be the judge of that," I call out as he shuts the door and starts up the engine, tossing the unlit cigarette out the window as he pulls away from the curb. I watch him drive off, feeling a strange pull toward him that I can't quite explain. There's just something about Jack that I can't resist.
Jack
As I drive down the winding roads, my mind is consumed with thoughts of Jolie. It's been several days since our last encounter, but her words still echo in my head. "You're worth more than you give yourself credit for." I scoffed at her then, but now I can't help but wonder why she would think that when she knows nothing about me.
Without thinking, I reach for my cigarettes, but when the image of Jolie's face flashes through my mind, I quickly toss the pack in the trash and reach for some gum instead.
Ever since she entered my life, her bright eyes and genuine smile have been all I can think about. So much that terrible attempts at poetry have become a regular occurrence in my free time. But I know better than to share them with anyone. They're just for me. Something I do to try and work out why I'm obsessing over and what it is a girl like her could possibly see in an anti-social recluse like me.
No one has ever bothered to try to get to know me before. I've always been the outsider, content to live my life in solitude. But Jolie's words linger, and for the first time in what feels like my entire thirty-five years on this earth, I can't help but wonder what it would be like to let someone in for more than just one night.
The sun is just setting when I finally pull into the parking lot of the Whisper Valley Function Center, my headlights illuminating a group of women standing in front of me.
It's not the fact that it's a group of women at a function center that makes me do a double take, more that they're all wearing pink jackets with 'Whisper Valley Soulwink Society' embroidered on them in black letters. Dottie spots my van and gives me a smile and a wave, and as I drive by, I feel like I'm on the set of a remake of Grease. Weird.
Pulling up near their delivery door, I get out and slide my trolley from the van, hearing the friendly chatter and laughter coming out of the group of women in the distance. Once I'm loaded up with the first lot of flower arrangements, I wheel the trolley inside, the gleeful voices fading away once I'm through the doors.
I'm not even trying to look for her, but the moment Jolie comes into view, my eyes find her. She's setting up rows of chairs, and I can't help but smile as my heart rate picks up. There's the girl I wish I deserved.
I take a few steps forward so I'm standing just behind her, my hand tingling from the need to touch her, so I shove it in my pocket so I don't give in.
"What's this pink lady club about?" I ask, my voice sounding too loud and harsh in the otherwise empty room.
Jolie pauses and turns around to face me, surprise etched across her features before it quickly turns into a smile. "You haven't heard of the soulwink?" she asks.
I shake my head, my eyes locking with hers. She's so damn beautiful, and I can feel myself falling deeper into her spell with each passing moment.
"If you talk to the blonde woman who's a little taller than the rest, she'll tell you all about it."
"How about you just tell me?"
"Because you'll think I'm just a silly little girl who believes in fairytales if I do."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Not all fairytales are bad."
Jolie chuckles, the sound light and musical. "Well, it's not bad, per se. It's just...not something everyone understands."
I nod, gesturing for her to continue.
"Promise not to laugh and I'll tell you."
I hold up a hand and place the other over my heart. "I solemnly swear it."
"The soulwink," she begins, her eyes focusing off somewhere in the distance, through the windows where fragrant flower gardens decorate the well-manicured grounds. "Is that feeling of knowing you get when you meet your soulmate." Her fingers play with her necklace as she turns her gaze toward me to gauge my reaction.
"And how does one recognize this feeling? How did they form a club about it?"
"Jade is the woman who started the society and coined the term after it happened to her. She says it's that moment when your souls recognize each other and give a little wink to say hi to each other. And you’ll know if it happens to you, because from then on, it's like no one else in the world exists—you're powerless against it."
"So, it's like love at first sight then?"
"I suppose," she says. "But with a Whisper Valley twist. These stones"—she shifts her hand and shows me the colorful polished stone hanging from a leather cord around her neck—"are said to be the catalyst. At first, she thought the soulwink only happened to the Valentine family."
"The guys who run the bar on the way into town?"
"That's them. Each of them met their wives and fell head over heels right away, and like I was saying, Jade thought it was a bloodline thing. But when one of the cousins up in the mountain met his One, she started making candles with these stones in them, and then it was like the soulwink started finding other people."
"That's how they realized it was the stones that do it," I insert, sliding my hand into my pocket and touching my fingers to the corded stone I found in a bush by the pizza shop a few weeks back. I kept it in my pocket with my change because I like the feel of it in my hand, but now I'm starting to wonder if there's something more to it. I'm not really one to believe in superstition and the like, but it feels like more than just coincidence that Jolie and I have exactly the same stone along with an unexplainable attraction. Could this soulwink thing really exist?
"You think we're all crazy believing in nonsense, don't you?"
"No," I say quickly, pulling my hand from my pocket and rubbing my palm against the top of my jean-clad thigh. "People believe lots of things. Not really any real way to know if they're true. Besides, you know what they say about Whisper Valley—anything's possible here. Maybe you'll experience it yourself someday."
She releases the stone at her neck and gives me a small smile. "Maybe."
"I should..." I get up from my seat and thumb over my shoulder to where the flowers are still sitting on the trolley.
Jolie follows my gaze, then looks back at me. "I could help you with those, if you want."
I hesitate for just a moment. It's not that I'm against having Jolie's company—in fact, I'm starting to find myself looking forward to our impromptu meetings—but I'm just not used to having someone help me. I've been a lone wolf for a long time now, ever since I finished up my military service and realized re-assimilating with the real world wasn't something I could manage. But something about Jolie makes me feel like it's OK to let her in, even if it's just in small ways.
"Sure," I say with a tight-lipped smile. "But it'll be a few trips if you don't have the time."
"I have the time," she says, jumping up from her seat and following me like a little bouncing puppy.
As we work together, carefully placing each flower safely in the cool room, I can't help but steal glances at Jolie. She chatters away enthusiastically about this and that, her studies and her world view. But all the while, her bright eyes focus on the task at hand. Every so often she pauses and looks up to meet my eyes, her lips curling up into a soft smile as our connection hits like a spark.
Throughout this time, I can't help thinking about that group of women and Jolie's explanation about the soulwink. Could it really be activated by a simple stone?
As the thoughts race through my head, the stone weighs heavy in my pocket. It's like it has a warmth to it, spreading through my limbs and making me feel more alive than I have in years. It could all be in my head, but the idea that this one little stone could be responsible for all of the sensations overwhelming me lately seems insane. But then again, so does the fact that I'm feeling anything at all.
As we finish up, I turn to Jolie, intending to thank her for her help. But the words die on my lips as soon as I meet her gaze. There's something about the way she's looking at me that makes my heart skip a beat. I can feel the tension between us thickening like syrup, and for a moment, all I can do is stare and wonder if she's been brought into my life for a reason, or if I'm just lonely and seeing what I want to see. Thing is, I've been lonely before and this...this feels different.
As I continue to stare, Jolie takes a step closer to me, and before I can even process what's happening, she's lifting up on her toes, her soft lips pressing against my cheek in a tentative kiss.
"Thanks for letting me help," she whispers, her sweet breath fanning across my face. "You know, you're not half bad when you quit growling long enough to let people in."
I'm taken aback by the sudden intimacy of the moment, but I can't deny the electric sensation that courses through my body as Jolie's lips touch my skin. It's been so long since anyone's touched me like this, and I feel a desperate hunger welling up inside me, urging me to respond.
Without thinking, I reach out and take Jolie's hand in mine, pulling her closer to me. Our eyes meet again, and in that moment, everything else fades away. It's just me and Jolie, standing there in the cool room surrounded by flowers.
The warmth from the soulwink stone in my pocket spreads through my body once more, and I give in, leaning in and pressing my lips to hers in a fierce kiss. The taste of her, sweet like honey and wine, fills my senses as our tongues dance together in a frenzy of need and desire. I’ve never felt like this.
Jolie's hands find their way to my chest, her fingers trailing over my shirt as she pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her tightly against me, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. It feels like we've been waiting for this moment for years, even though technically, we only just met. But now that it's finally here, there's no turning back. She's mine now.
"That was..." Jolie looks up at me through her lashes, blushing when we come up for air, "everything I ever wanted for my first kiss."
"What?" I take a step back, the spell between us broken in a snap. My heart pounding in my chest and my head spinning with so many thoughts and feelings that it's hard to keep up. Did she just say first kiss? "How old are you?"
"Twenty," she replies, still looking up at me with those big brown eyes that make my knees go weak. "Is that a problem?"
I let out a deep breath, feeling conflicted. On one hand, I'm relieved that she's not jailbait, but on the other hand, I have no business kissing someone who's not even old enough to drink. But as I look at her, all I can see is temptation. Her eyes, her lips, her body—it's all too much to resist. The primal urge that courses through me is impossible to ignore.
I pull her close again, feeling her body melding into mine. My lips wander down her neck, tracing the delicate skin with feather-light kisses. Jolie's breath hitches, and she tilts her head back, giving me better access. The floral scent of her perfume mingles with the heady aroma of passion, enveloping me in a sensory overload.
My hands roam lower, trailing over the curves of her hips and then it's as if my brain kicks into gear again and I'm pushing her back, putting some distance between us as I rake a hand through my hair and try to get a grip.
"Fuck."
"Did I do something wrong?"
I shake my head, not trusting my own voice, feeling like I'm on the verge of losing control. "No, Jolie. You didn't do anything wrong."
"Then why did you stop?" she asks, looking up at me with those soulful eyes that make me want to give her everything. But in reality, what is it I have to give? Isolation? Hardship? No. She's better than that, destined for more than I can give. Soulwink or not, I can't do this to her. I can't be the man she wastes her firsts on, no matter how badly I want to take them.
I pull away from her completely, taking a few steps back and rubbing my face. "I can't do this," I mutter under my breath.
"Do what?" Jolie asks, a slight hint of confusion in her voice.
"I can't kiss you," I say, still feeling out of breath. "I can't let this go any further. You deserve someone who can give you everything, not a hermit like me who can barely string together a conversation."
Jolie's face falls, and I see the hurt in her eyes. "Is it because of our age difference?" she asks softly.
I shake my head. "No. Yes. I don't know. I think it's more about me realizing that you just gave me your first kiss, and I can think of about a hundred other guys who are more worthy of something so pure."
Jolie looks up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I want to reach out and pull her into my arms, but I know that it will only make things worse. She deserves better than someone like me. She deserves someone who can actually give her a future.
"I'm sorry, Jolie," I say, my voice cracking slightly as I turn away from her. "I shouldn't have done that."
As I walk away, I can feel Jolie's eyes on me. It takes everything in me to not turn around and look at her. I don't know if this soulwink thing is real or what denying it would mean if it were, but I do know myself enough to not want to drag a beautiful beam of starlight down with me. She deserves better.
