Chapter 11
“Have you had breakfast yet?”
“You saw me have it,” he earnestly replied after he dropped his arms away from me. “My cup of coffee.”
“That isn’t breakfast.”
“How about you come inside, and I’ll make something for you?”
“Only if you eat it too.”
“Sure,” he half-teased, before he pecked his lips against the tip of my nose. “You look so cozy in that scarf,” he noted, and then let his fingers trail over the soft fabric of a light azure blue. “What material is it?”
“Wool and cashmere.”
“Warm,” he noted. “Good, you will need it on our walk.”
He took a hold of my hand to lead me around the house, taking the high road where the grass was unruly to my secret delight. “It’s not supposed to be cold today.”
“Yes, but it is windy in some parts of the forest. I want to take you to the waterfall.”
“Waterfall?”
“You’ll like it,” he assured me. “If it wasn’t so cold, I would suggest a swim, but it is not summer anymore.”
“Too bad.”
He smiled at me kind-heartedly. “I’m sure we will find our own sort of trouble,” Damian assured me before he stopped in his tracks. “Wait here.” He hopped down a large drop, landing in a dry patch of dirt, sending dust in the air everywhere. Two arms were stretched out to catch me, so I eagerly leapt into them. Damian caught me as I expected and then settled me down with a feeble attempt of containing his grin. “There we are,” he observed once I stood before him, and before I even had time to react, he laid his lips over mine again. His kisses were quicker this time, eager, reminding of those blissful moments when everything felt new. It was my turn to break our lips away, needing a moment to at least catch my breath. Damian leaned into me again, but I tilted my head away and asked him to wait. “What’s the matter?”
“I can’t keep up.”
“Oh.”
“I like it though,” I shyly confessed. “You’re a good kisser.”
He smirked at me fiendishly, and then darted his eyes away to hold back a secret thought. “Hmm … so I’ve been told,” he taunted in a silky voice, before he stepped away. “Breakfast?”
“Sure.”
He held my hand tightly, letting it swing in between us in a playful manner. It was like night and day with him, and I wasn’t sure what brought on this cheerful mood. Damian’s frigid mannerisms reverted to its normal state once he caught sight of the front door, and then everything became fresh for him again. His voice cracked when he uttered, “How did you sleep last night?”
“It was okay.”
Damian fished for his keys, only to realize that it was not in his pant pocket. “I might have to go back around.”
“Why?”
“The front door is locked.”
“You don’t have the key?”
“No,” he groaned, and then closed his eyes with regret. “I should have gone through the front like I intended too.”
“Showing off?”
“A little,” he confessed with a shrug of his right shoulder.
I pecked him on his cheek with my lips, somewhat happy to hear his small confession. “Can you climb back up on the patio, Damian?”
“Would you believe me if I say that I can?”
“I believe you.”
“Wait here for a few minutes,” he asked of me, and then quickly retraced his steps to make his way to the porch at the very back of his house.
You would think he is a gymnast, I thought, remembering how far he dropped down just to be with me. Ashley was right, he really does like me.
I smiled at that secret thought, feeling a strange fluttering at the bottom of my stomach. It wasn’t until I idly looked down at my feet that I noticed a set of footprints leading up to the front of his house, soft brown spots that were chalked over from the dusty earth. I crouched down lower, finding it odd that it was clearly defined footprints.
He walks around barefoot, I wondered, but it didn’t make sense. Why would he walk around without his shoes?
I tried to follow the footsteps, but it became lost once I got to the bottom of the short staircase, blending in with the rest of the dusty earth that settled over the hill where Damian’s house was positioned. The creaking of a door caught my attention and I looked upwards to see Damian watching me attentively.
“Everything alright down there?”
“I was looking at footprints,” I told him. “Not many squirrels around here,” I said as an excuse, to lead him astray.
“No, not really. You will see them once we get into the forest.” Damian widened the front door, wondering why I was not making any effort to come inside of his house.
“Hey!” I called out nervously. “You walk around barefoot sometimes?”
“Umm …” I could not help but swallow hard at the awkward pause, noticing how he was having trouble looking in my direction. “Sometimes, why?”
“I saw footprints leading up to your place.”
“Oh, yeah. I must have done that.”
“Why?”
“Probably to get something from my truck,” he replied in a smooth tone of voice. “I’m going to start breakfast.”
“Alright, I’m coming.”
“Close the door behind you, alright?”
“Alright.”
I took one last look at the footprints, finding it rather odd, before I retreated to the front door of his house. I stared over the horizon, taking in the morning sun that shines over the top of the trees to where I stood. It was a beautiful morning and I would spend it with Damian, a thought that made my heart glad, but still a part of me felt that something wasn’t quite right about him.