She cleared her throat, changing the topic. “Is my age a problem for you, Ikrus?”
He sucked in a deep breath, looking away, still thinking about why he had brought her and Arlo here - still trying to figure out his thoughts. “No. I was merely surprised, that is all.”
“I’m not bothered either.” She leaned closer to him, a hair’s breadth between them, catching him off guard with her action. “Don’t worry,” she skimmed her fingers over his hair and he stilled, forcing himself not to move as more of her fragrance consumed his air. “I have always fancied old men.”
What?!
Old men?!
Old men where?!
“I’m not old,” he said, clearly offended.
“You are thirty-two,” she said as she lay down and closed her eyes.
“Exactly. I am not old.”
She felt his shadow over her and she sighed, wanting the warmth of the sun on her skin once again. “You are thirty-two… and blocking the sun.”
“That is not old at all.” He sounded like he was losing his mind, but his voice was leveled.
