Page 33 of Full Tilt
“Thank you.” I moved carefully past Theo. His dislike of me was still emanating off him like heat from a furnace. I took a stool on the other side of the counter, tucking my shirt up a little to prove that I was wearing shorts.
I saw Theo’s gaze land on the sugar skull tattooed on my left thigh. For a brief moment, his expression loosened, grew curious. I started to strike up a conversation about his tattoos, when his Death Glare returned, like a door slamming in my face.
He pushed himself off the counter. “You ready, bro?” he said. “Let’s hit it.”
Jonah finished off his protein shake and tossed the cup in the sink. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said to me. “So you’re not left stranded for lunch.”
Theo’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to work through lunch?”
“First time for everything,” Jonah replied.
“No, I don’t want to throw off your schedule,” I said. “You have a lot of work to do. I’ll be fine here, really.” I glanced at Theo. “Really.”
“Really,” Theo said, deadpan.
“Really,I’ll be back for lunch,” Jonah said. “If you need anything else, there’s a convenience store up the street, about a ten-minute walk. Give me your cell number, and I’ll call if I’m running late.”
Theo watched darkly as Jonah and I exchanged cell numbers. “You’re still coming to dinner tonight, right?” he said. He looked at me, his lighter brown eyes stony and hard. “We do it everySunday. Family only.”
Jonah scrubbed his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ, Theo.”
For half a second, Theo looked contrite, then turned to stone again. “I’ll be waiting in the truck.” He strode to the apartment door and shut it hard behind him.
“Nice meeting you,” I said to my coffee cup.
“I’m so sorry. He really has become a pain in the ass since…” Jonah laughed shortly. “Sincebirth,actually.”
“Does he work with glass too? Is that why he’s going to the shop?”
“No, he’s a tattoo artist.”
“Really? I was thinking about getting another tattoo. Too bad he hates my guts.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…protective. He helps me out at the shop sometimes. I have an assistant too. Tania. But she’s off on Sundays.”
“So he drove here to pick you up?”
Jonah raked his hand through his hair. “Yeah, we’re… We’re close. And he likes to hang out.”
“So, under all that glowering and barking, he’s a softie.”
Outside, a car horn blared, loud and long.
I burst out laughing.
Jonah laughed too and then a short silence fell. I figured it was now or never if I was going to apologize for last night.
“That was nice of you to let me crash in your bed last night. I was…pretty drunk. Didn’t mean to evict you. Or—”
“You didn’t,” Jonah said. “I don’t sleep in the bed. I haven’t in about four months.”
I blinked. “Um, okay, I’ll bite. Where do you sleep?”
He nodded his head toward the living room area behind me. “In the recliner. My doctor wants me to sleep semi-inclined. For better breathing. It’s not a big deal,” he added quickly.
I frowned. It sounded like a big fucking deal. What would happen if he slept lying down? He’d stop breathing? I couldn’t ask that, so instead I said, “Is that…comfortable?”
“It’s just another adjustment.”
