Page 32 of XO Karma

Screw you and your stupid handsome face.

Dear vagina,

I would like to remind you that we hate this man.

XO,

Lily.

“Do I know you?” I ask, smiling sweetly.

“We’ve run into each other a few times,” he replies cooly, eyes dropping to my chest, and when they return to mine, they’re fucking dangerous. Glinting with pure, unabashed joy. What is his deal?

The realization slams into me like a truck.

I’m wearing his shirt.

I’M WEARING HIS SHIRT!

My face flushes red, heart seizing in my chest. Mortification doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Earth, if you could swallow me whole, that would be wonderful.

“Oh, right,” I say, glancing sideways to Amara, and then my gaze returns to his. “Sorry, you just have such a forgettable face.”

“Lily!” Amara nudges me.

“It’s fine,” Aster replies, shooting her a charming smile. “She’s not great at meet-cutes, it seems.”

“We did not meet-cute!” I argue, and Amara giggles. A whole grown-ass woman actually giggles.

“We have thrice now, actually. Maybe fourth meet-cute’s a charm?” He winks, and I must physically restrain myself from slapping the shit-eating grin off his face as he turns his attention to my friend. “And I believe you’re… Amara?” he asks, and air becomes scarce. “You own Mocha Muse?”

“Yeah.” No! She reaches out her hand with a smile. “Caramel macchiato guy, right?”

“That’s me.” He takes her palm in his grasp. I want to slap them apart, as if his mere touch could mark her for death. I didn’t consider what danger she could be in when discovering he frequents Mocha Muse. I assumed she was merely the maker of his morning pick-me-up, nothing more. Nothing risky. But now that he knows about our friendship, I’m terrified.

Will he go after her when he’s done with me?

My eyes widen. What about Zuri?

“How do you know each other?” I blurt out trying to gauge if it’s purely coffee-related or there’s more to this backstory.

“He comes in the shop most mornings,” Amara says, seemingly perplexed as she attempts to speak with me through her eyes.

What the hell is your problem? she’s asking.

This man’s a murderer! I mentally reply.

“You okay?” Aster asks, brows furrowed. “You look stressed.”

“I’m fine,” I grit out, forcing a smile, and return my attention to him. “Peachy.”

He grins wide. “Great.”

“Well.” I loop my arm through Amara’s dragging her with me. “Goodbye.”

“See you soon, gorgeous,” he says with a smile so breathtaking, I swear I’m already dead. The words sound innocent, but he and I know they’re a promise, not a threat.