She squeals. And kicks her feet.
Such a girl.
“Stop. I don’t want to analyze it. I don’t want to jinx it.”
“Please.You aren’t going to jinx shit.” I just stare at her. She huffs. “Fine. Fine. So then let’s talk about your writing. Is that safe enough? How’s it going?”
I smile. “Actually, for the first time, I can say it’s going.”
“It’s going?” she presses.
“It’s just… when I write lately, it feels like something wakes up. Words fall out before I can catch them or even consciouslythinkthem. The words are coming… easier.” I pause. “It doesn’t hurt that I’m writing about a warrior that is pretty similar to Flint.”
“That’s not surprising. He looks at you like you’re a story he’s been waiting his whole life to read.”
I study her and consider.
“That may be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Maybe I’m in love with you.”
“Baby, you can’t handle me.” She tosses her hair back flirtatiously.
“It makes me nervous, Anne. The way it just pours out of me sometimes, especially lately. I’ve never experienced that before. And I think Flint is the why.”
Anne gets up and walks to stand across from me at the counter. “Maybe Flint isn’t just part of the story, Cas. Maybe he’s the ink.”
I let that thought percolate in my brain. I hadn’t considered it quite that way before. Maybe Flint did show up here for a reason. Not that I’m much for fate or whatever, but I suppose weirder things have happened.
I get distracted enough in my thoughts that Anne is impatient by the time I finish up my closing duties. I refrain from pointing out that she could have helped. She did keep me company, so I suppose that’s help enough in its own way. I turn off the majority of the lights and grab my bag. Looping it over my head, I double back to the kitchen for the keys I left lying on the counter while Anne laughs and shakes her head.
I hit the lights by the door and am finding the correct key to lock it behind us when someone taps on the glass. I almost drop the keys as my heart picks up and kicks into double time.
Anne releases a deep breath, like it also gave her a start. “It’s just Steve.” She waves at him through the glass. “I texted him that we were wrapping it up and he asked if I wanted to grab a late dinner.”
Steve waves at us through the window and smiles at my bestie. Maybe I’m not the only one teetering on that long fall. He certainly seems smitten.
As Anne opens the door to greet him, my phone goes off. Juggling my drink, I nab my keys off the floor and cock a hip to try to dig my phone out of my ass pocket. A text. While my heart sinks, I wonder if my Brett the Ballsack break is over. I really should change the settings on my phone so more information shows up on my lock screen. Strapping a bit of mental steel to my backbone and awkwardly shuffling my shit, I unlock my phone and feel nothing but relief when I see it’s a text from Flint.
I see the expression on Anne’s face. She’s threatened more than once to text my dick-pic bandit back with critique of not only his sad, pathetic penis, but his photographic composition.
“It’s Flint,” I assure her. “He said he’s finished at Betsy’s and is headed back.”
“Great,” she says, already snuggling into Steve, wrapping one arm around his waist and resting her head against his chest.
“Hey Cas,” he says, squeezing my friend and planting a kiss on her hair.
“Hey,” I reply absently, as the phone goes off in my hand, again. “Shit-fuck-damn. Of course the manremembers that the trash needs to be hauled out for the truck tomorrow. And double of course, I forgot.”
Anne straightens. “I can do it.” She looks at Steve. “Well, we can do it.”
Steven nods. Clearly Anne has kept him in the loop regarding the never ending soap opera my life has somehow become. “I’ll just call and let them know we’ll be late for our reservation.”
“Reservation?” I can hear the excitement in Anne’s squeal.
“Yeah. I got us a table at that new spot across town. I’ll just let them know we’ll be a few minutes late so they don’t give away our table. I’m happy to help.”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. You two go, have an amazing meal. Flint’s already on his way here. I’ll just deal with the trash and wait for him.”
Anne shakes her head and Steve looks dubious.
