Chapter 19 #2
Naturally, she’s gorgeous. Sipping coffee and laughing at something Devi said. Completely in her element. Her hair’s slightly damp, like she didn’t have time to dry it all the way after her shower, and now I’m remembering her request to see what I could do in the bathtub.
I shoot a glance at her mother again, and that helps get my cock back under control.
Then I notice Jitter. He’s sprawled on his back by the fire with his fur and fluff and jowls so askew that he looks more like furry, mis-assembled IKEA furniture than he does like a hundred-pound not-still-a-puppy, but not-yet-a-dog dog.
“Oh, Grey, good, you’re here.” Bitsy smiles and waves me into the room. “We need some male input on the speed dating event next weekend.”
“The…what?”
“Speed dating,” Sabrina’s mom supplies. “Bean & Nugget hosts it every Valentine’s Day.”
“Are you participating this year?” someone asks me.
Zen chokes on their coffee.
I almost choke on my own spit.
“You should,” someone else says. “You’ve been single for, what, two years now?”
Half the people in the room are shooting sly glances at Sabrina. The other half are watching me.
Including Sabrina.
The weight of her gaze is even heavier than the weight of her dog when he presses his waggling body against me, which I wouldn’t mind him doing right now for a distraction.
But Jitter’s snoozing like this is too early for him today.
“Uncle Grey is totes single,” Zen says.
I am.
But I’m not .
As in, I’m not too keen on getting back in the dating game.
Probably.
Unless it involves some kind of friends-with-benefits arrangement with the woman whose café I’ve sworn to destroy.
How, exactly, did I get myself into this again?
One of the older ladies claps. “Oh, good. I’ll tell my daughter you’ll be there.”
“I don’t—” I start.
“Back up just a second,” an even older lady says. “My granddaughter’s coming in from Denver for this. And she already knows him.”
“Are you sure it’s wise for Addison to be in Snaggletooth Creek right now?” Sabrina’s mother says. “I hear it wasn’t the most pleasant for her when she came up last week.”
A hush falls on half the group.
Three ladies share so it’s gonna be a throwdown glances.
Wish I didn’t know what that looked like.
Wish I wasn’t the reason it’s being tossed about.
“Can we all please remember that Chandler is the biggest problem in the Tooth?” Sabrina says. “Marley, have you talked to Gail Kingston yet about those custom tissue packs?”
“No, I talked to Laney instead when I dropped off dinner for her yesterday. She is so smart . She said we should use the printing space to say he’s not worth these tears . Dry them up and know you’re worthy. ”
“What will the men get?” someone asks.
“Laney asked the same thing! I told her to surprise me.” She turns to me. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Grey. Laney’s a total professional, and she’s been one of Sabrina’s best friends for as long as I can remember. She won’t do anything that embarrasses Bean & Nugget.”
“But we have other questions for you,” someone else says. “Would it be okay if we brought in three extra tables? It’s such a popular event, we don’t want to have to turn anyone away.”
“So many singles, but they’re all so picky ,” someone else mutters.
“They—” I start.
“The extra tables are fine,” Zen says.
“Oh, thank you , Zen. Here. Have you tried Iris’s lavender muffins?”
Lavender muffins .
I feel my eyes flare and I shoot a look at Sabrina.
She’s smiling, but shaking her eyes no at Zen.
Iris.
Iris is Mrs. Pineapple. Sabrina told me about these muffins in Hawaii.
I start to clear my throat, but it’s too late.
Zen’s taking a massive bite.
Sabrina stifles a noise. We make eye contact, and she goes pink in the cheeks.
I start to grin.
Until Zen makes a noise of their own.
“Aren’t they delicious?” Sabrina’s mom says.
“So much,” Zen lies.
They turn a subtle but desperate look my way.
Sabrina squeaks again.
Everyone looks at her.
“ Jitter . You silly thing. What kind of a noise was that?”
The dog snorts, flips one way, hits the fireplace hearth and gets stuck before flopping back the other way. He spots me, barks once in utter jubilance, scrambles to his feet and charges, knocking over the tray of muffins on the way.
“ Oh my god ,” Zen whispers.
I pass them my tea.
They gulp.
Iris squints at them.
“Swallowed a dog hair too,” they force out. “God, Sabrina, bring a dust mop when you bring Jitter.”
“Grey, can we still use this space next year for speed dating?” Bitsy asks. “You’ll still have tables, won’t you? There’s nothing like the fairy lights on the lake at night, and you just can’t see them as well anywhere else.”
“We could do speed dating on the lake,” Iris says. “Bet we’d have way more success stories that way.”
“But it has to be here,” Bitsy replies. “John and I met at speed dating here. It wouldn’t be the same if it was somewhere else.”
“Zen, are you okay?” Sabrina’s mom asks. “You poor thing.”
“Still stuck in there,” Zen says hoarsely.
“Maybe it’s actually residual cheese dust.”
There’s another round of everyone sucking in a breath while they dart glances between me and Sabrina and her mom sits there sipping her own coffee like she’s completely innocent and didn’t remind everyone of the cheese dust on purpose.
“Oh, god, I didn’t mean you should do speed dating,” one of the women says. “Right. Right. You and Sabrina?—”
“Are not dating,” Sabrina says lightly. “I don’t date.”
“That’s what your mom said before she got pregnant with you,” the oldest woman in the room whispers.
And I’m out.
Out out.
Retreating to the kitchen because I know when I’m in over my head, and it doesn’t matter what Sabrina’s mom says to that.
I have to leave.
The voices continue in the dining room.
There’s laughter. Conversation. Excitement. The clink of coffee cups on the tables.
And Zen’s in the middle of it.
Like they belong.
I have never seen Zen adjust to a place like this. Even when we were in San Diego after I kicked Felicia out, when it was just the two of us, they didn’t like accompanying me for anything to do with work.
Your researcher friends treat me like a specimen , they told me once. Maybe it’s in my head, but I don’t like it .
Here?
Here, they’re joining in like they belong.
Finding a gymnastics class , for fuck’s sake.
If I tell them I could’ve warned them about Mrs. Pineapple’s lavender muffins , they’ll laugh their ass off and then some, and probably serve me iced coffee in my chai mug tomorrow for revenge, and we’ll be even.
It makes me want to bail right now. Put the café up for sale. Just give it to Sabrina.
Get them out of here.
Before they get hurt.
I angle a glance inside the room and catch Sabrina watching the kitchen door.
She looks away immediately, reaching for her mug as she says something to the woman beside her.
I flush hot, then cold, then hot again, and then I go lightheaded.
Dammit.
I don’t want to leave.
Even knowing this infatuation has to eventually come to an end, that I have to trust the people in this community to accept Zen and me for who we are, that I’ll eventually crave research again in a way that won’t be satisfied by running a kombucha bar with a bee theme and live beehives, I don’t want to leave.
And that’s scarier than hell.