Page 33 of Toxic B!tch
"Malik?" My voice comes out a little breathless.Ugh.
"Told you I might stop by." His lips twitch like he’s amused, but doesn’t want to encourage me.
Yeah, and I might have a healthy coping mechanism, but here we fucking are.
He extends the gift bag, the tissue paper crinkling in his grip.
I take it, ripping into it like an animal, and then?—
Oh. Oh, holy shit.
I squeal.Loud and completely unhinged.
"NO FUCKING WAY."
I yank the skull out of the bag and clutch it to my chest like I’ve just been handed the Ark of the Covenant.
It’s a deer skull, painted matte black with delicate silver inlays swirling like veins of obsidian. The antlers sparkle with tiny gemstones, catching the dim bar lighting like shattered starlight.
I jump up and down, shaking the skull in Malik’s face. "Do you have any idea how much I fucking love this?! I could kiss you right now—WAIT, no, I should marry you. This is a marriage-level gift. I swear to God, you just put a ring on my soul."
Malik lets out this deep, amused chuckle, and it makes my brain misfire. "Figured you’d like it."
"Like it? This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever given me. If someone gave me this in high school, I probably wouldn’t have turned out so fucked up." I tilt my head. "Actually… no, I’d probably still be a menace. But I’d have had a head start on collecting bones."
His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes—something quiet, something knowing. "You’re really that excited over a skull?"
"Malik." I stare at him, gripping the deer skull like it’s my firstborn. "Look at me. Look at what I’m into. You knew who you were giving this to."
He does look at me. And it feels… different.
There’s no hesitation. No judgment. Just… acceptance.
And that scares me more than anything.
I hurry around the bar and press a quick, impulsive kiss to his lips before I can talk myself out of it.
Malik doesn’t freeze. He doesn’t even hesitate. Instead, he lets out a quiet chuckle against my mouth, one big hand settling against my hip like it’s second nature.
I smirk up at him as I pull back, still clutching the skull to my chest. "Too late to take it back. I’m keeping the skull and the kiss."
"Didn’t plan on taking either away from you."
The way he says it—calm, assured, like he means it—sends something sharp and dangerous skittering down my spine.
I roll my eyes, fighting the way my stomach flips. "Ugh. Stop being sweet. I’m trying to pretend this isn’t a rom-com."
"Good luck with that," he murmurs.
"Go sit at the end of the bar. I’ll get you a drink before I start planning our wedding."
Malik, to his credit, doesn’t argue. Just shakes his head, muttering something about me being too much as he makes his way to the quieter end of the bar.
I set my new prized possession beside the register, pausing to stroke the skull reverently. "We’re gonna be best friends, buddy."
Then, I grab a glass, pour his usual—VO and Sprite, no ice—and slide it down the bar to him.
"On the house."
