Page 16 of The Desert Prince's Jewel
“Wearen’t!” I grit out, seizing his wrist to silence another protest. “And if we were, we aren’t anymore. I’ll grovel later, Mateo. Don’t make me do it here out in the open. Please?”
I sweep my hand towards the stirring early morning rush building near the parking lot. He gulps and nods, urgency in histone. As I pull away, I shudder. Something tried to attached to Mateo alright. I feel it in my blood as my spell seeps back into my skin. I frown. Shit! I need to keep a closer eye on him from now on.
Mateo huffs, “Fine. But wait a while, alright? I’ll bring you a peace offering, too. Not that I should, but we’re turning new leaf and all.”
I should be fuming at being ordered around like a dog, but I stand there obediently for some unfathomable reason.
I nibble at my lip, “Why?”
“You seem to need a little extra something today. Hopefully it’ll push the stick outta your ass too. And, um, thanks. For the painting, I guess. I’ll hang it up. I mean, I am the manager– Co-manager! Shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”
I deflate more from the fact that Mateo won’t take the painting home with him than from the verbal jab. I know I should throw one back in his face. But threatening to remove a stick from his ass seems ill-mannered, given the environment.
“Y’all made up?” a tall, tattooed barista asks as he walks in, and Mateo growls back, “Shut up!”
I watch him through the window as he executes his morning routine, hoping the offering will bridge the gap for what I really want to tell him next time we meet.
“Oh my,” a stern voice whispers behind me.
When I turn around, I’m caught off guard by the matching giant, goofy grins and flashing fangs on my guard’s faces. They falter at my withering look, as I stomp away to sit in a patio chair. They sit beside me, silent. But when I sneak another glance over my shoulder, there’s a sudden knowing in their eyes, as a shy smile spreads across Kunal’s face, and a lascivious smirk on Rohanl’s.
“What?” I ask as I observe the passing patrons, waiting for my drink on the house from Mateo. At least, I assume that’s what he’s brewing right now as I glance back at the window.
“We’ll help keep tabs on Sir Mateo, Sir,” Rohan grunts, nearly shouting. “You placed a ward on him? A ward!?”
I shrug, “Yes? He’s connected to Dimitri. I felt it was warranted, no? Your intel and mines points to Kontos being a very dangerous man. He must have mages nearby, and Mateo was caught sneaking around. Or at least, they attempted to catch him. Gods above that idiot is going to get himself killed!”
Rohan’s grin spreads, rubbing his clean shaven chin. It looks strange on him. Kunal practically bounces in his chair, tugging at his top-knot to let his hair down which falls past his shoulders in waves.
“A ward! A ward… It’s important for the future that we keep Sir Mateo safe,” Kunal declares, a triumphant undertone to his voice as if he’s reading a royal decree in the palace’s courtyard.
I arch an eyebrow at them, as they nod sagely at each other, their gazes filled with wonder and giddiness like children. It’s creeping me the fuck out.
“The future of what? He’s just a barista?” I ask, not understanding the sudden formality with which they address him, but I’m ignored.
So I ignore them until Mateo comes strolling out with a mocha latte topped with whipped cream and a genuine smile! When I take my coffee to go, I’m shocked to see a small packet of medicine taped to the side. I’m not the biggest fan of the chocolate brew, but I’m too transfixed by that smile to care.
Mateo whispers, scratching the back of his head, “Theylovethe painting—especially Cy’s dramatic wannabe goth ass. So thanks. See you, ah, later, Ranbir. Bye.”
I sense sarcasm in his tone, but I don’t have time to address it. Mateo spins on his heels and high-tails it back into the cafe. I dothe same, bolting out of my chair, racing to the relative safety of my nest in the hotel. I don’t like how my stomach flips and my heart quivers, aftershocks from Mateo’s smile causing my whole body to go haywire.
“Hurry up!” I order, grumbling my annoyance as my guards bob after me, the naga equivalent of hopping or skipping.
I don’t know what made them so happy, but I don’t care to know. All I wanted was to break through Mateo’s hard shell. And it seems I’ve accomplished my mission. So now comes the hard part: becoming his friend. Because now more than ever, I need allies. And despite our twisted history, Mateo and I seem to have a bigger shared enemy to take down.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MATEO
“Is this a joke? Am I a joke to you?” I groan as I slap the side of a machine I always thought would surely send me to the unemployment line someday. Maybe that day is today.
Later the same evening, Ranbir rocked the foundation of my world, a frothy storm of epic proportions struck Cafe Magnifique. I’m at war with the froth machine before I know it. My frustration has mounted at any minor inconvenience since the night I slept in that motel and had yet another wet dream about Ranbir. Worse, it was after having a lovely dovey delusion about that damn naga. More mortifying than that is the fact that I hadanotherwet dream last night before I checked out.
I might as well let the machine explode so I can be taken out of my misery, because then Ranbir had the audacity to waltz up to me this morning and promise togrovelsometime soon, likea lead in a trashy enemies-to-lovers romance novel during the hero’s redemption arc.
Fuck me!
I’m being slightly dramatic about wanting the broken froth machine to cease my existence. But I do think my embarrassment might end up killing me tonight. Honestly, I can’t reconcile having back-to-back wet dreams about the man I claim to hate.
