Our server appears and I order a margarita and nachos. Titus gets enchiladas and a burrito, despite the server’s warning that the burrito is huge.
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll put it all down,” I pipe in, remembering how much the guy eats. I guess when you’re that big, your metabolism runs like crazy.
Charlie toasts him with her cider. “Titus, have you taken yoga before?” Of all my girlfriends, she’s the most boyish, with a pixie haircut and curvy form hidden under a Namaste, Motherfucka t-shirt. She’s ripped the collar off so when she leans forward, a hint of her impressive cleavage flashes.
That niggle of jealousy rises up again.
“First and last time,” he rumbles.
Everyone laughs and Titus looks down at me. “No offense, sunshine.”
I think we’re both surprised that the endearment rolled off his tongue so naturally.
Although it’s not that big a stretch. My name is Sunny, after all. It’s not a new nickname for me. Somehow it’s different coming from his lips, though.
He seems uncomfortable, like he wishes everyone would stop talking to him, so I redirect. “Charlie, how’s post office business?”
She shrugs. “Same-o, same-o. Someone had crickets delivered to their PO box, though, and they chirped all freaking day long. Drove us all nuts.”
“Oh, crickets. I should get some to show my students. They’d love it.” Sadie tilts her head to the side, looking adorable as she thinks.
“Won’t Scott just love that,” Charlie teases.
Sadie’s gaze drops to the table.
“Sadie?” Adele picks up on it right away. “Are you okay? Did something happen with Scott?”
“We decided to see other people,” Sadie says softly.
“Oh no,” Charlie growls. “That fathead. Did he cheat on you?”
“That’s not what she said,” Adele protests, but pain flashes over Sadie’s face. “Oh no, he didn’t.” Adele switches to momma bear mode. “I will end him.”
“It’s okay,” Sadie whispers and Charlie wraps an arm around her.
“Damn straight it’ll be okay, after we rip his head off. Men suck.” She turns to Titus. “Present company excluded, of course.” I notice she doesn’t look at Chas.
“Don’t ever date in this town,” Adele advises Titus who looks like he wants to race for the hills. “It’s a fishbowl.”
“Drink this,” Charlie pushes her cider towards Sadie, whom I’ve never seen drink anything stronger than a Coke. “It’ll put hair on your chest.”
“I don’t want hair on my chest,” Sadie squeaks, but she drinks.
“I never saw you with him. He was so”-Adele makes a face-“fake. The opposite of you, sweetheart.”
“Opposites attach,” I put in. “Oops, I mean attack. No, attract.” I pat my lips to apologize for the word jumble. I’m always flubbing up expressions. It’s a special gift of mine.
“You’re so right. My ex is totally weird. Totally blunt, no tact. Completely opposite to me,” Charlie announces. “Anyway, Sadie, I know what you need. A one night fuck!”
Sadie chokes on cider.
Titus pinches the bridge of his nose. He did not expect to get in the middle of girl talk.
“Headache?” I murmur.
“Yeah.”
I look with my inner eyes at his auric field and see the giant gray cloud hanging over his head.
“Permission to clear your energy?”
“Come again?”
I hate this part. I have gifts but you can’t go messing with people’s energy without their permission, and to get permission, I have to explain something they probably won’t understand or believe in.
“Just say yes.”
His gray eyes are thoughtful, but he nods his head. “Okay.”
I imagine a giant vacuum over his head and suck away the gray cloud, keeping at it until every trace is gone. Then I infuse his aura with a soft pink-purple light. “There. Better?”
He frowns and touches his temple. “Uh, yeah. Actually. It’s gone.”
“Good.” I turn back to the conversation at the table and join back in, ignoring the scrutiny I sense from Titus and sucking my margarita down faster than I should.
I can’t stop thinking about what will happen next. Will he stick around? Walk me to the bus? Or invite me to his place? Or is he going to say goodbye and good riddance? My intuition does me no good in this situation, which I think relates to his indecision. Like he hasn’t made up his own mind.
And I can’t decide what I want, either.
That’s not true, I definitely want to get physical with Titus.
Tonight.
But I get too fluttery when he’s around. Too excited. And I’m attached to an outcome here, which is always bad. That outcome is not him driving off on that Harley after a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.
I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, climbing over Titus to get out of the booth.
Big mistake.
I lose my footing-or did he pull me down? I land on his lap and… hello, big guy.
Definitely happy to see me. Big as I remembered.
“Fates,” Titus curses, his breath hitting the back of my ear, his growl awakening every part of me that wasn’t already on high sexual alert.
He has one hand on my hip and he pulls me tighter against his lap at the same time he rolls his hips to show me his reaction.
But then, just as quickly, he lifts me. No, he practically throws me off.
The guy is hella strong. I mean, who can deadlift a woman while sitting?
I get catapulted to the floor outside the booth so fast I stumble. My pussy’s wet from the encounter-so wet I’m afraid it will show through my yoga pants. I take off to the bathroom as fast as I can.
When I get back, I find cash on the table where Titus had sat.
Even though I knew it was coming, I’m unprepared for the sinkhole of disappointment that drops me three stories in a single second.