I frown. Look at the reader at my hand. “Uh. You want to do cash? I’ll take cash if you have it, or I’ve got Venmo. I can run a card, but?—”
“No.” Pearl giggles and pops down off the chair. She takes a step toward me, the strawberry-vanilla scent of her vape drifting toward me as she gets closer. And closer. “I mean…God, you’re talentedandadorable, Kit.” She slides her hands over my shoulders, my neck, fingertips trailing over the monochrome snake that stops just short of my jaw, and pushes me, surprisingly hard, against the counter. “I mean like maybe I can pay you someotherway, you know?”
Shit, I think.Shit. But it’s too late.
Pearl grabs my face and kisses me. Hot and eager and very wet and?—
“Jesus.” I’m not huge, but I’m strong enough to push her back, so hard her high heelsclunkagainst the floor. “What the hell?”
This girl doesn’t look the slightest bit embarrassed. Just tips her head and smiles. “Oh, please, Kit. I’ve seen how you boys look at us”—not me, you haven’t, I think, heart pounding in my throat as Pearl smirks—“and, well, now’s your chance. All yours.”
Her hands find their way back around my neck and she overtakes me again. Somehow, all five-foot-nothing of her, is sucking me in for this pornstar kiss, thisprofessional’s kiss, this one-hand-on-my-belt-buckle, tongue-on-my-neck, fingertips-on-my-zipper?—
“Anybody home?”
Fuck. IlaunchPearl off of me, and this time she stumbles, knocking into my cart and leaving me with my fly half down and lower lip feeling actually swollen.
“Hello? Is anybody?—”
The footsteps from the kitchen slow to a dead halt.
“Dude.” Pan practicallycrowsthe word as he stops. He takes me in, takesusin, his eyes wide and brows up. “Are we…interrupting something?”
“No.” I tug at my zipper, wipe at my mouth. A few feet away, Pearl looks put out. “No—Jesus. I’m just…what are you doing here?”
Pan shrugs. “Could ask the same of you.”
“Working,” I rasp. My heart is still pounding, more from sheer shock than anything else. “Or trying to.” Fuck. I run a hand through my hair.
Pan doesn’t care, I know he doesn’t. If anything, he’s just going to find this funny—hedoesfind this funny, judging by the way he’s mugging and mutteringhoooo boyover his shoulder—and that’s when I realize he’s not alone.
Tink. Of course. Right behind Pan as always. Sees me, sees Pearl.
I don’t even know Tink that well. Not well enough to guess his reaction. But I don’t have to guess, because he’s just got this…expression on his face.
A kind ofhuh, didn’t know you were like that, Kitexpression.
And I don’t know why that needles at me. But it does.
Except I’mnotlike that, I want to shout. Shit.
For one thing, gross, I’d never fuck someonein the shop.
For another…
It’s not that I’m gay; that would be an easier explanation. Yeah, I like guys, but I like everyone. Or no,noteveryone. Some people. Specifically. Like crushes, but more intense. The idea of fucking someone I just met feels…like nothing. It does nothing for me. I canseethat Pearl is beautiful, that she is a grade-A hot babe piece of ass, or whatever. But for some reason, I need more than that. And from what I’ve seen—from life, from living with these guys—there might notbeany more. To sex. To love. To…any of it.
Life’s not art. Simple as that.
But before I can say or explain or reallydoanything further, Pearl pipes up.
“Oh my God, is that akid?”
What? I follow her stare, to a figure justbehindTink and Pan, and…
I’ll be goddamned. It is a kid.
Agirl, that is. Maybe…twelve? I don’t know.
