Page 17 of Playing With Danger

“What adult says ‘rents’?”

“The kind who plays basketball and baseball with a bunch of teenagers. I’m hip on all the lingo.”

A harassed-looking Crystal stopped at the side of our table and dropped two coffees in front of us.

“I want you to know, you’re the only person I personally deliver coffee to. Not even your fellow brethren in blue get table service. And that’s not because I don’t appreciate all of you protecting and serving. It’s just, they actually listen for their names being called.”

“Sorry, Crys.”

The woman smiled at Valentine then turned to me.

“Good luck.”

With that she hustled away.

“What in the world is in this?”

“Don’t ask, just drink.”

Sophie from a month ago would’ve demanded to know every ingredient. No way would she try something new without knowing if she was going to like it. Heck, she’d refuse it outright since she didn’t try new things.

What a narrow and stupidly boring life I had led.

With a tentative sip I did what I was training myself to do—explore new things.

It tasted like strong coffee and vanilla syrup.

“Well?”

“It’s good.”

Which meant I didn’t understand what was with the ‘good luck’.

“Good. Drink up, then you can tell me why your mother is pissing you off.”

That wasn’t going to happen.

“I mean no offense, but I don’t know you.”

I was slurping back more of my vanilla drink, which was actually better than good, it was amazing, when Valentine announced, “You’ve seen my cock.”

The ramifications of the reminder was vanilla-flavored coffee coupled with saliva drenching his black t-shirt.

“I take it you’re a spitter.”

My momentary shock ended in an eruption of laughter.

Valentine let this go on for a long time, which was good since I couldn’t get myself under control. It was like all the stress, worry, and uncertainty of the last month had finally bubbled up and made me loopy.

But his softly spoken, “you have a great laugh” made the stress, worry, uncertainty, and the crap my mother pulled melt away.

I ended my laughter on a smile. To which he said, not in a soft murmur but in his normal rough voice, “And you have a great smile.”

That was sweet.

Unbelievably sweet.

“I’ll tell you about my mother if you promise never to mention your…”

---