Page 32 of Basil

“Fucking hell.” He grabbed my finger and licked it, sucked it, drove us both just a little crazy.

I shouldn’t have done that, I thought. I was trying to make him all flustered, but now we both were.

“You need any batteries, baby?” he asked when I told him his time was up.

I frowned. “What?”

“For your vibrator?”

“Get out.”

He was laughing when he left.

Meadow popped in right then and watched Basil leave. “He still courting you?”

I huffed out a sharp breath. “I think his goal is to drive me to sexual frustration, so I’ll just give in because I need…dick.”

“But not any ol’ dick. You want Basil’sbigdick,” Meadow sang the words.

“What am I doing, Meadow?” I slumped into my chair.

“You’re doing the courtship dance! It’s healthy. You’re not sad. You’re sleeping. You’re eating. You live for the five minutes you give him every morning.”

I exhaled heavily. “Am I a total loser?”

Meadow let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “No, babe, you’re just human. You love the man. He fucked up. But he’s made serious amends, and he’s continuing to do so. You guys are not jumping into it—you’re talking, spending time together, albeit five minutes at a time.”

“Today it was ten,” I mumbled. “Yesterday, fifteen.”

Meadow let out a soft laugh. “You both are the cutest.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever!”

Basil seemed to have a plan, which was to be everywhere I was.

I saw himevery day. He showed up at the shop, the yoga studio, and even the farmer’s market.

“Seriously, this is stalking,” I muttered as I walked away from the fruit stall.

“Not when I already knew you’d be here.” He took my wicker basket from me. He always did that, took a heavy bag, held the door open—without any fuss or even the appearance that he was doing something extraordinary. Ellen had raised her boy right.

“Hey, guys!” Ocean called out. He had a pop juice stall at the market. “You wanna try some artichoke shots?”

We both wrinkled our noses.

“It’s good,” Ocean insisted.

“I’ll have one if you’ll have one,” Basil said, fear lacing his voice, and I wasn’t sure he was feigning it. "I don’t want to die alone.”

“It’sgood,” Ocean protested. “I’m not going to poison you.”

“I don’t know man, that mustard green celery thing you made us drink last time was hideous,” Basil reminded him.

“Thatwas a mistake.” Ocean glared at Basil. “You know I’m the one who’s been telling her to give you a chance. The least you can do is drink the damn artichoke shot.”

My friend’s mouth went mutinous as he held a paper shot glass up to Basil’s nose. He took the shot and downed it. He grimaced for a moment and then nodded appreciatively. “Not bad.”

“Really?” I drank my shot and all but threw up. “Oh my God, that was horrible. How could you like it?”

---