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My earlier warrior princess vibe is gone. Standing in front of my shop, I’m reminded of my disappointments, failures, and resentments.
A surge of anger overpowers my defeatist thoughts. I reach up and grip his shirt. When I tug him down for a kiss, Hobo refuses to budge. I pull harder at him, even while he remains unmovable. I frown at his strength before my feelings get hurt over his disinterest.
“Don’t pout,” he mutters and gives in to my desire for a kiss.
I soak in his affection, enjoying how his lips linger rather than offer me only a hint.
The stubborn part of me wants to insist Hobo offer more. I consider asking about Turtle Cove.
However, I know my heart belongs to him now. If he doesn’t show up for days or even weeks, I’ll still wait around hoping. One day, eventually, I’m bound to find the courage to cut him loose and move on.
Until then, he can disappear without me doing the same. So why push for more when I’ll only back down later?
Besides, I’m sick of false promises. Every time I got up the courage to travel or think about moving away, my parents offered me something to stay. I believed them rather than face the unknown.
Today with Hobo, I embrace the reckless route. I might not see him ever again, but I still don’t demand promises.
“Thank you for taking me with you,” I say and step back.
“Are you planning to stick around at the shop?” Hobo asks, maybe wondering about my long-term plans or just inquiring about today.
Shaking my head, I glance in the direction of the darkening skies. “There’s a stray cat hanging out around the house. I think she might be pregnant. I should go home and check on her.”
Hobo starts to smile before suddenly narrowing his eyes like I’m up to something. Whatever is bothering him, he doesn’t offer any information. He just idles while I walk to where my SUV is parked. Once I pull out toward my house, he loops around to go the opposite direction.
I feel like the magic from our walk is over. Maybe I should have said or done things differently.Is it even possible for a woman to seduce a man like Hobo?
Arriving home as the first sprinkles begin, I carry a small dog igloo I picked up. After resting a blanket at the back of plastic enclosure, I sprinkle catnip to draw the cat inside. Rose the Cat watches me warily while I set up everything. I check her food and water before leaving her to decide if the dog igloo will be her shelter during the storm.
Inside my house, I try to imagine where Hobo is right now. Has he gone somewhere safe, or does he want to remember what it feels like when the world is ending?
TOMMY
Xenia makes less senseto me now than she did before we spent time together. That was my worry. It’s why I stayed away.
No, I guess I was mostly worried I’d get all wound up on her, only for her to ditch me. I’m not looking for pain. I can handle a lot, but I sense Xenia’s rejection will hurt more than most things.
