Page 23 of Maneater

I comb back my hair and put it in a hasty ponytail. I push aside the thoughts that have been plaguing me night and day. A few slightly inappropriate musings might’ve snuck in here and there. But I’ve been primarily worried about whether he’s okay, and wishing I could be with him just to make sure.

Purely as a concerned friend, of course.

So why didn’t I simply call him back to see how he was doing? I yank my ponytail a little too tight.

“Ow.” Clover hops over, and I scoop her up. “No, I’m not falling for him. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Better I tell the bunny than Darien.

“And anyway, it would never work out. He’s terrified of me, so that’s the end of it.” She blinks several times, and I frown. “Quit judging me.”

I tuck her into bed, grab my laptop, and make my way to my truck. By the time I’ve traveled the short distance to the inn, I’ve successfully banished the delectable Darien from my thoughts.

Sort of.

“Hey, boss,” greets Gavin as I tug open the door. “I have, like, a thousand questions.”

I inwardly groan even as I realize it’s my own damn fault for hiding away like a big coward. Gavin is leaning on the counter, supporting himself with his elbows. My eyes dart to the desk. A mish-mash of paper, randomly tossed pieces of mail, and five used and semi-used mugs of coffee decorate the surface. My eye twitches at the sight of the half-eaten donut surrounded by a smattering of crumbs and powdered sugar that would send Winston into an orgasmic frenzy.

“S-sure.” I force my gaze back to him. “Why don’t we start with five of the most urgent questions, then table the others after I’ve had some coffee?” That I won’t be bringing to the desk. I force a smile. “Then perhaps you can tidy up while I go through my messages?”

“Oh!” Gavin snaps his fingers. “That reminds me. That guy Darien, the one who called yesterday? He’s sitting in the café.” Gavin grins. “I told him you’d be here by ten.”

I grit my teeth. “Terrific.” If terrific means fuck my life, then it’s the exact word I should use. “In that case, let’s hold off on the questions, and I’ll have my coffee in there.”

Might as well get this over with.

Even though I’m not technically marching to my doom, the pit in my stomach is making me believe I am. My head has been a swirling mass of chaos over the past few days, my thoughts unable to focus on one specific aspect of the situation.

Why am I pining for a human? Should I ignore my feelings? What would happen if I didn’t ignore them? Will Darien think I’m crazy, be scared, or want to hurt me if he finds out? And the biggie. Was he even into men? I could be coming unglued over nothing if he’s as straight as a pin.

I push open the door that connects the café to the office, my gaze immediately landing on the star of my lurid dreams. His back is to me in the booth positioned halfway between the door and the counter. Even so, I know it’s him. Not because he’s one of only three customers in the entire restaurant, but because that tousled auburn hair has starred in my ongoing fantasy of the past few days.

My fingers carding through the soft strands. The scent that’s uniquely Darien, the mix of pine and what reminds me of honey, the smell from the first time I gathered him in my arms, holding him close to keep him safe. My fists clutching his hair, gripping him tightly as he…

I suck in a deep breath, taking a second to compose myself. I doubt things will go well if I saunter up to the table with a raging boner.

“Good morning, Darien.” Why does my tone sound so formal? I gesture to the seat across from him. “Can I join you?”

Darien peers up, his expression almost unreadable. His eyes hold a smidgen of fear, but the rest I can’t work out. My instinct tells me he’s being guarded. My own paranoia rises to the surface. Maybe he’s gone to the authorities already to report the attack.

“Yeah, of course.” Darien ducks his head. “As long as I’m not keeping you from anything.” He fiddles with the menu. “The guy at the front desk wasn’t sure whether you’d have time to meet with me.”

I slide onto the bench seat. “I apologize for not returning your calls. I should’ve checked on you, made sure you were okay.”

Truthfully, I do feel like an ass for not following through.

He lifts his gaze, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “That’s okay. I figured you were busy.”

I draw my eyebrows together. “No, it’s not okay. That was downright inconsiderate of me.”

Darien averts his eyes again and continues to fondle the laminated menu. “I don’t think so. You seem so nice.”

I straighten. Not sure what to make of the non-sequitur, I focused on unearthing the reason behind his visit. Most people don’t drive considerable distances to find out why their calls haven’t been returned.

“So, how have you been doing? Are you hurting at all?”

Darien glances up. “No, not really. Sometimes I get a weird pulsing in my head I’ve never felt before, but not any pain.” He wiggles, clearing his throat. “But I can’t stop thinking about, you know…” He leans in and whispers, “It.”