Page 28 of While She Sleeps (The Hunter and The Thief #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

EMBER

I ’m hot. I’m sweaty. And I fucking hate the Hunter. Or Lucas. Or both.

I’m not really sure.

All I know is I need a cold shower and a glass of wine before trying to make myself look any kind of presentable.

The last eleven months have been hard as hell not being able use public transportation or get in a car, but today I fucking felt it. Summer reared its ugly head a month ago, and I thought I was doing all right, but it turns out I was lying to myself.

The combination of the blaring sun and the hot wind that whipped past me at every street corner, I had to duck into a coffee shop every twenty minutes so I didn’t overheat.

And then on top of that, by the time I reached the general store where I was hoping to charm myself into getting access to their rear entrance camera, I was so sweaty and disgusting that there was no chance anyone would find me attractive or innocent enough to break company policy, making the entire outing pointless.

I stomp up the steps to my apartment, ignoring everyone I pass as I go.

Maybe I should cancel with Orion. I can’t see me being in a very good mood by the time he gets here, and he doesn’t deserve my shitty attitude just because I’m too broken to get in a fucking Uber.

Just the thought has hot tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

Fuck me, my therapist has his work cut out for him.

Reaching the top of the steps, I start down the hallway, but pause when I notice a box sitting on my doorstep.

In my line of work, you learn pretty fucking quickly that suspicious packages are just that. Suspicious.

After a quick list of everyone I’ve pissed off recently flicks through my mind, I decide I haven’t warranted a bomb or anything equally as sinister and approach the box slowly.

I shove my key into the lock and push the door open before bending to carefully pick it up. Again, probably not a bomb, but I haven’t made it to twenty-two without learning to be cautious about anything I don’t absolutely know is safe.

It’s not until I place the box down in the middle of the dining table that I notice the note taped to the top.

Ember,

I’m looking forward to our date tonight.

I saw this dress and thought of you. Please wear it for dinner.

Yours, Orion

I stare at the note for longer than necessary before turning my attention back to the box.

He bought me a dress?

A man went shopping for a dress? For me?

What kind of parallel universe have I slipped and fallen into?

With a steady breath, I use my keys to cut through the tape, and my stomach drops out when I fish the dress from the mountain of tissue paper it’s wrapped in.

Holy fuck.

Holy fucking fuck.

This isn’t just a dress.

This is designer.

I’m holding more money than I’ll make this month between my fingers.

The soft red fabric is unlike anything I’ve ever touched, and I swallow down the giddy excitement that threatens to pull me under. No one has ever done something like this for me before. No one has ever bought me a gift at all, now I think about it.

Travis did his best after we escaped the group home, but he struggled to keep us fed most days. There was no spare money for frivolous things like gifts. And then by the time we did have some spare money, so long had passed that I don’t think he even thought about things like that.

Orion has no way of knowing he’s just given me more with the simple gesture than anyone else ever has.

I press my eyes closed to ward away unwelcome tears before pulling the dress from the tissue paper.

It’s a fit and flare style that I would have picked myself, with a cinched waist and a low neckline that will make my tits look great if I choose the right bra.

How did he know this is something I would wear?

Another parcel catches my eye beneath the tissue paper, and I carefully place the dress over the back of a chair before reaching for it, only to realize there’s more than one.

This is too much. Rationally, I know that the contents of this box are way too much for a first date. But there’s a part of me, a part that I’ve kept buried all my life, that’s desperate to have someone care enough to spoil me. It’s not really about the items themselves, but the gesture of it.

I nibble at my bottom lip before picking up the shoe-sized box. The branding has another cold sweat washing over me because I know for a fact this brand is not cheap, and yet I don’t hesitate to pop the lid off.

The black ankle boots staring back at me are low enough that I’m sure I’ll be able to walk in them with ease, but with the flare of the company’s logo as the heel. Holy fuck. They’re so pretty I can barely take my eyes off them.

The fact that he knew I favored boots over heels is enough to have my heart beating harder in my chest. All these little observations he’s made that I would never expect a member of the opposite sex to pick up are weakening my resolve even further.

Getting close to someone means risking losing them, but how am I supposed to ignore a man that has taken such an interest in me?

Once I manage to pry the shoe box from my own hands, I inspect the rest of the parcels. There’s a small box of jewelry that probably cost an arm and a leg, and a small bundle of tissue paper that contains lingerie from a store I’ve walked past a million times but could never afford to step inside.

The black bra and panty set is lacy and again, something I would have chosen for myself. Honestly, if he’d sent me off to buy an expensive outfit for our first date, I think I probably would have returned with the contents of this box, and my stomach does another flip.

There’s a knock at the door, and I carefully place the jewelry and lingerie back into the box before moving to the door.

I check the peephole and find the biggest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen in my life staring back at me.

There’s no way he bought me flowers on top of all the other stuff…right?

I unlock the door and tug it open in time to see a man pop his head around the side of the vase he’s holding. “Ember Roberts?”

“That’s me.” I smile.

“These are for you. If you can just grab the clipboard under my arm and sign for them.” He nods in the direction of the paperwork, and I quickly do as he’s asked because that vase must be heavy as hell, and he just lugged it up the steps.

“Thank you so much. Hold on two seconds, and I’ll grab my purse.” I’m pretty sure I have a five-dollar bill in there, but I think I should probably tip more, considering the size of it.

“The tip has been covered, miss.”

“Oh.” My brows tug together as he thrusts the bouquet toward me. The weight of the flowers is even more than I anticipated, but I manage to get a decent grip on the vase without dropping it. What a travesty that would be!

“Have a nice day,” the delivery guy calls over his shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.

I kick the door closed and carefully lower the flowers to my kitchen bench, given my dining table isn’t big enough for them as well as the other gifts Orion has had delivered.

There’s a small envelope sticking out of the side of the arrangement, and I pluck it from the prongs. I pull the card out and look over the words with a stupid smile tugging at my lips.

Little Flame,

No backing out now.

Orion

A laugh tumbles from my mouth, and it takes me a moment to realize how easily it came, considering all the others have been forced for as long as I can remember.

I drop the card beside the flowers and reach for my phone.

Ember: This is way too much to buy for a first date…you know that, right?

Orion: I wasn’t aware. I’ll make sure I buy you more for date two.

I scoff and shake my head. I think he’s joking, but I actually can’t be sure, given the state of my apartment right now.

Ember: Thank you for all the gifts, but you didn’t have to.

Orion: I wanted to. What’s the point of having all this money if you have no one to spend it on? Now go get ready for our date. I have a feeling seeing you in that dress is going to make it hard to leave your apartment…

I have that same feeling, but I refrain from telling him that.

Tonight might be the night I finally lose my virginity, and that thought doesn’t scare me nearly half as much as I thought it would.

Who wouldn’t want to lose their v-card to the most eligible bachelor in LA?