#20 (I'm Back) Like a Moth to the Flame

Okay guys, I took way too long of a break, and even though I am behind on everything right now, I am going to try and commit some time to this project. I know that a lot of my not doing it is the insecurity I have about it being rejected. But, that is just something I will have to get over. Here's a bit more. 

He chuckled to himself while she was locking up. He had formulated a plan for how he would get her to talk to him, but this had happened just by chance, and was working out far better than he had ever imagined. He quickly punched Erik’s number into his cell, he had to cancel their plans so he would be free to get to know Kate a little better.

He clicked the locks to let Kate into the car, instead of getting in, she stuck her head in and said, “Pop the trunk.”

He pulled the lever that released the trunk, and watched in the side mirror as she deposited a duffel inside.

“Not illegal drugs, I hope?” He joked when she got back in.

I rolled my eyes, “No, all drug free here!” She tossed $40 bucks onto his lap “For gas.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. One of the things that intrigued him most about her was that unlike most girls, she did not give up any information easily. She did not explain to him what was in the duffel, just answered his question. It fascinated him to no end.

“So, what is in the duffel?” He pressed, just to see how she would respond. And once again, he was not disappointed.

“Not 8 heads, if that is what you are wondering?” 

Her quick wit was intoxicating to him, and he threw back his head and laughed. He had seen every movie ever made, or at least a good percentage of them, unlimited time allows for such luxuries, and the reference to the 1997 Showtime movie 8 Heads in a Duffel Bag was highly unexpected. It was not exactly a well-known feature.

Although I am surprised he understands my reference, I try not to show it. I had successfully avoided his question, and that was good. Not that it matters if he knows I might stay over with Candice in Rexburg, but the way I have it figured is the less he knows about me, the better off I am. Memories of Ethan, and the emotional roller-coaster ride liking him had been are still fresh in my mind, and the last thing I need is to give this guy any information that could later be used as ammunition. I had learned that manipulating the heart was best done with personal information, so the less Kyson has, the less chance I have of getting hurt. I am playing with fire and I know it, but cannot seem to help myself. Like a moth, to the flame I am drawn.