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Skylar

My mind must be playing tricks on me, but I swear I just saw Burlos' companion from the diner two days ago out in the shadows by my house. Just a silhouette, but when I saw it, Burlo 2.0 came to mind. There is no one else that big that would fit what I think I saw. Unless it was a bear. But they are few and far between in these parts.

After standing there for what feels like hours but was probably only minutes, glaring at the spot outside, I finally move, deciding it must have been in my mind. Literally nothing has moved, and if there was anything there, it would have moved by now.

Must be my mind playing tricks on me, like all the times I feel like someone is watching me. Sure, I say to myself unconvincingly before quickly heading back inside with my unfinished pasta, locking up behind me. I close the curtains to the sunroom for extra measure, spooked that there might actually be someone out there watching me.

Deciding sleep is what I need, I toss the pasta in a container and head to bed. It doesn't come, however, as my mind keeps wandering to a massive man with off-white shoulder-length hair. I'm not surprised. He has been on my mind nonstop since seeing the back of him. When I'm brushing my teeth. When I'm in the shower. He has even invaded my meditation sessions. And then there are my dreams. Or fantasies, rather.

In those, he has green eyes. Green eyes I drown in, and that look at me with such an intensity it feels like I can't breathe. And his enormous hands. Those hands have made me come so many times in so many different ways over the last two nights, it's not even funny. When I wake up in the morning, I am literally wet. I wonder how many of the locals are suffering from the same ailment, or if it is just me. Perhaps my dry spell is finally catching up with me.

When I do finally fall asleep, it feels like just minutes pass before I wake and it is morning. I am wet, but alas not due to Burlos' companion pleasurably invading my dreams. No. I wake up in a cold sweat with the remnants of my usual nightmare lingering. I can't say I'm all too surprised that I've had this dream again, especially after what happened last night. Being spooked probably triggered this one specifically.

The frequency is starting to worry me, but I have had these phases before, I remind myself. I get my morning routine on the go, and soon enough, I'm heading out on my bicycle to my shop. Not before I check out the spot where I thought I saw Burlo 2.0 last night. There is nothing there. No footprints or anything. I am more than relieved that it is my imagination playing tricks on me. And by the time I arrive at the shop, I have cycled most of my anxiety off. But that is short-lived.

I take a few steps towards the door, expecting Rene, as she opens the shop, thanks to her being an early bird. What I don't expect is to see the man I have been dreaming of, the same man I think I saw last night, in my shop. I'm stopped dead in my tracks as my heart tries to escape my chest, as if I have cycled a marathon.

He is in my shop. They're in my shop. Fuck fuck fuck. Burlo and Burlo 2.0 are standing in my shop at this very moment. Both are luckily facing away from me, speaking to Rene.

Shit. I look down, thinking I should have put on a nicer pair of jeans, not these oldish ones that have a paint stain on the bottom. I'm also wearing my old Vans. Oh geezus, my hair is all over the place. I quickly tie everything up in a loose bun on top of my head. I must look like an idiot. Thank the pope, they are so engrossed in their conversation with Rene that they don't notice me hovering outside my own store! What a nut job. I mentally shake myself. My heart is beating so fast, and I take a steadying breath as I open the door.

'Ting', the little doorbell rings as I push open the door, letting everyone know I have arrived.

Sometimes I would be so engrossed in a book that I wouldn't notice someone had come into the shop. I installed this doorbell thing to remedy that situation. How I regret that decision right now. My face is beetroot red. I can feel it. Even my ears feel hot.

All three sets of eyes turn to look at me. I look at Rene, then up at Burlo, and then my eyes move over and meet the most gorgeous green eyes I've ever seen in real life. I mean, these things look photo-shopped. Too vivid, too deep, too green, with little speckles of brown around the iris. My heart skips another beat, and I mentally high-five myself for accurately guessing green, but at the same time, I don't deserve the win, as nothing in my imagination compares to the real deal.

The other thing I notice, which is quite bizarre and coincidental, is that this man smells like sandalwood and pine. My two favorite scents. I can see it swirling around his body, whipping off of him before vanishing into thin air and then reappearing seconds later. Joining them together is a unique scent of his own. Like a unique iridescent pattern that pulls the other scents together. Every person has an unrepeated, uniquely colored pattern bonding their other scents together. This must be why I'm so attracted to him. It must be because of the way he smells. It has nothing to do with the way he looks. Yeah, right, I scoff, as I mentally smack myself across the face.

I take in his off-white hair, tied up in a half-ponytail, his face on full display. He has stubble, but you can clearly see a defined jawline underneath. My eyes take in his nose, which is a bit on the sharper side, but suits his face. And that mouth. My eyes linger on his slightly red lips. They are a little dry, but I could fix that, I think to myself, unconsciously wetting my own lips with my tongue. He has a large scar running from his right jaw down his neck, ending at his clavicle, and instead of being repulsed, the powerful urge to run my finger along it takes up residence.

He looks to be in his late-thirties, around 6'2" tall, as I originally estimated, and he is all muscle. Dragging my gaze from his mouth, now set in a firm line, I eat up the rest of him, taking in the simple black Levi's t-shirt he is wearing that hugs and kisses his muscles. My gaze continues down his torso, past the denim that hangs off his hips, down his muscular thighs and legs, landing on his shoes. Vans. He is wearing a pair of Vans. I look down at my feet. I realize what I am doing and have been doing when Rene breaks the silence.

"You okay, Sky?" Rene asked me nervously.

"Um, yes, sure, just having a moment," I mumble, finally taking a few steps forward. I feel like there isn't enough room in this shop for everyone with these two gigantosaurus standing there. Or enough air. And why is it so hot suddenly?

"Ivan and Dmitri are new to the town and are introducing themselves to the locals," she says, gesturing first to Burlo, who has his hand on her back, and then to his companion. Dmitri. I wouldn't have guessed he would have a Russian name. But looking at him, it certainly suits him, and I wonder if he has an accent. I hope not. That might just be the cherry on top of this already delicious cake.

I tear my gaze from Dmitri and look to Rene for some sort of help in this situation, noticing once again Ivan's hand on her back, and when I look at his face, he is just staring at her lovingly. Bizarre. Maybe it's love at first sight. Or maybe they know each other from somewhere? I'd have to ask her about it later.

Dmitri, who until now has just stood there staring at me, chooses this time to finally speak.

"Yes, we are moving into some houses on the outskirts of town, and we thought we would come and do the neighborly thing and say hello." His voice is disgusting. Not. Like with everything to do with this man, his voice is no different. Perfection. A slight Russian accent and a rich, deep voice that sends shivers down my spine. Purr. Fuck, did I just shiver physically? No can do, I remind myself. This one is trouble with a capital T.

My gaze drops to his outstretched hand, his very big outstretched hand, and I take a step forward before taking it. Immediately, my gaze shoots up to meet his. Is that a literal spark I feel? Similar to when you walk on the carpet and then touch a doorknob, and it shocks you? It's so intense and bizarre that I end up jerking my hand away briefly before apologizing and then re-attaching my tiny hand to his. He shakes it slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Even now, I can feel faint sparks where our hands touch. Maybe a residual effect from the initial jolt, I wonder?

I look down, noticing how our scents swirl and mingle together. My shimmer of autumn-leaf brown, with faint pastel yellow and apple green, joined by my unique scent, twirling and swirling around Dmitri's scent, circling our joined hands. It's utterly mesmerizing.

"I'm Skylar, but everyone calls me Sky." I look up, giving him a smile while wondering what an appropriate length of time for a handshake is.

"Dmitri," he says, even though I already know it. His smile is strained and brief, and I get the feeling this man does not smile or laugh often.

Feeling awkward, I look over at Rene, silently pleading with her to intervene in this weird situation. Useless, really, as she has her eyes fixed on Ivan. I look back up at Dmitri, and he slowly, almost reluctantly, releases my hand.

"Ivan," Dmitri says, not looking away from me, "time to go." It sounds more like an order than a request. With that, he moves past me and leaves, followed shortly thereafter by Ivan, who is looking back at Rene with longing in his eyes. I hear the 'ting' of the door as it opens before they are out and gone.

"What just happened?" I ask, beyond confused.

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