Page 77 of Semblance

It was Shadow.

‘Are you home?’ his text read. ‘I just got back and wanted to see you.’

Oh god, not now. I must have looked like hell and I had dragon breath that could lay waste to an entire village.

However, the thought of not seeing Shadow for one minute longer was too much for me. I desperately wanted to be in his arms again.

‘I’ll be home in an hour. I’d LOVE to see you then? XOXOXO =P’

My text reeked of desperation but fuck it. I wanted Shadow to know exactly what I was thinking.

‘Okay. I’ll buy us some dinner while you get yourself ready in there,’ he texted back.

Busted.

Fuck how did he know? Oh well, I was starving and dinner sounded wonderful.

I jumped in the shower and cleansed myself of any vodka and sweat residue left over from the club. After I was done, I attacked my face with makeup, doing my best to mimic the styles that Kara had showed me last night.

I wanted to look nothing less than perfect for Shadow.

With my face complete, I finished off my makeover with a pint of mouthwash while slipping into a spring dress that showcased my assets.

In one hour, I had transformed myself from drunken hobo Aria into sexy Aria.

The doorbell rang once more, and I practically threw myself at the door, opening it with the desperation of a deep sea diver surfacing for air.

He looked amazing, as always, wearing a black v-neck t-shirt that fit snuggly against his jacked frame and paired with his ripped jeans, Shadow looked like a model out of a fashion catalogue. His eyes shined as he looked at me.

“Aria, you look…”

But before he could finish, my mouth was already on his, tasting the sweetness of his lips. I wanted to devour him. He returned the kiss, his tongue pushing against mine as they intertwined.

After a long, passionate kiss that left me flush, Shadow pulled away and exhaled, out of breath.

“Missed me much?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” I replied.

I was about to dive in for another kiss, but stopped just shy of his lips as my stomach gave off a rumble that could have been measured on a Richter scale.

We both glanced at my belly for a second.

I was embarrassed.

“You’re in luck,” Shadow said as he raised a brown bag in his hands that gave off a mouthwatering aroma of cooked meat. “I brought us dinner. I hope veal sandwiches are okay.”

I pushed my finger against his lips and hushed him.

“Let’s not have words ruin this moment,” I said.

My stomach growled again.

“Instead, let’s succumb to the allure of your Italian sandwiches.”

We sat in front of my kitchen island, the messy but delicious veal sandwiches on our plates accompanied by a glass of red.

“So Calisto told me you girls went out last night,” Shadow said in between generous bites. I nodded as I savored the warm, breaded veal in my mouth. I was still a little hung over and it felt so good to get something into my stomach to soak up the alcohol. It was the best veal sandwich I ever tasted—though at this point I could have eaten a crayon and loved it.

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