Page 50 of XO Karma

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I assumed you were going to take me home.”

“We need to have a conversation about what the fuck’s happening without prying ears or murders happening around us.”

“The fact you can say all that so nonchalantly is very concerning.”

Aster releases a heavy breath, passing streetlights illuminating his face every few seconds, then he looks towards me, his gaze piercing mine. “I know you don’t trust me. But I need you to. And I need you to be open to it when I ask for us to have an honest conversation.” He returns his attention to the road. “It’s more for your safety than mine.”

“I am not going to your house, and I don’t trust you.” Yet, I add unwillingly in my head. I definitely don’t trust myself after that delicious sex show we put on. It’s been ages and a girl has needs. From the way his length hardened against me, he’d have no problem fulfilling them. I shake my head, hoping to clear it. “And until I do trust you, I’m not going into your murder lair.”

“My murder lair?” He huffs a laugh. “Really?” I fold my arms over my chest, and he relents. “Fine, I know a place.”

A few minutes later, a tall illuminated sign appears ahead: Dahlia’s Diner—Open 24/7. Aster pulls into the lot with a few other vehicles. Enough to ease me but not so many I feel we won’t have that needed privacy.

“A diner?” I ask.

“This not good enough for you either, Princess?” he snarks, turning off the ignition.

“First of all”—I cock a brow—“don’t call me Princess.”

“If the dagger fits.”

“I’d like that dagger back, actually.” I hold out a hand. “It’s my favorite.”

He slaps my palm, grasping it, and cocks a brow. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you lodged it into my thigh.”

His grip tightens, and I rip my hand away. “Not my fault I can outrun you.”

“Bit of an unfair advantage when you’ve staked the competition to the bed.”

I wave him off. “Semantics.”

He rolls his eyes with a grin, exits the car, and slams the door behind him. His gaze holds mine, pinning me in place until he arrives at my door, opening it and extending a hand. “Cinderella.”

My face scrunches, and I swat it. “Oh my God, barf!” I push myself out of the car, only mildly regretting denying his assistance as my stilettos wiggle between the rocks. “And what would that make you? Prince Charming?” I ask as he closes the door and we make our way towards the entrance.

“Only if I can bippity boppity bang you,” he says with a cocky smile.

And he has me laughing again. Shit.

A bell chimes as we cross the threshold of the diner, and moments later a smiling face rushes towards us. “Hey, honey!”

Honey?

“Hey, Dahlia,” Aster says, and I can’t deny it surprises me that this man is on a first name basis with the owner. The loner persona I’ve built in my head is getting crushed little by little. He seems so very… normal.

“And who might this be?” Dahlia asks him, appraising every inch of me. I tug Aster’s jacket tighter around my shoulders, uncomfortable at the attention.

“A friend,” he replies, and Dahlia’s eyes narrow.

“Mm-hmm.” Her gaze swings to mine. “Well, nice to meet you. Any friend of Aster’s is a friend of mine. You two looking to sit at the bar tonight?” She gestures to the stools along a long marble countertop with a miniature jukebox and a ketchup bottle set every five feet.

“Actually, we’re discussing some details for an article.” Aster nods towards the far corner.

“Oh, of course.” Dahlia shoots me a smile before grabbing one menu. “Right this way.”

We follow her to the booth, and I slide in the side against the wall that allows me to keep an eye on the entire restaurant. Aster pauses, glancing around, then at me. I cock a brow, and he releases a breath, sliding in the opposite side. I’d imagine a man like him doesn’t like having his back to anyone.