Page 7 of Seducing a Sagittarius
“I’ll be twenty-six in December.”
“Oh yeah? What day?”
“The eighteenth.”
“I’m the fourteenth. I’ll be thirty-six.”
I smiled. “I’m aware.”
“Oh, right. Outside of work shit, how much do you know about me? Be honest.”
“Not much. I only know what I already told you and your birthday. I worried about applying here . . . FYI, you do come off a little mean-spirited, but I know your heart is good.”
“Why were you worried?”
“Because . . . some of what I heard, I know to be true.” I smirked a little, twirling my fork to gather my pasta.
“I’m not mean, Ms. Grant. I just have zero tolerance for bullshit.”
“I know that too. It’s a defense mechanism. I’m not all into zodiacs or whatnot, but I know that we’re guarded people. We try to protect ourselves from all angles, . . . hence our signs being half-horse, half-human. The bow and arrow is our defense tactic.
“A horse’s natural instinct is to kick when they feel threatened. You try to come for us head-on, you’re most likely going to get your heart pierced—our sharp tongues are the arrows. However, the human part of us has natural instincts as well.
“It’s the part of us that allows us to love, to feel, and to live. If a Sagittarius loves you, you have our loyalty and love for life. Mess over us, and the relationship would never be the same again.” He wiped his mouth then leaned back in his chair, staring at me.
I hope I’m not talking too much.
I continued eating as a bout of silence made my forehead perspire. I didn’t know why I said all of that, but I needed him to know that I knew what type of person he was.
He was me.
In male form.
I may have been more vulnerable than he was because of my femininity and nurturing spirit, but everything else I said about our sign was dead on.
“I like you,” he blurted. “I mean, as a person,” he clarified.
I smirked. “I know.”
“You have any siblings?” he asked.
“Nope. I’m an only child. You?”
“A little sister who thinks she’s my daughter.”
I smiled. “That’s super cute.”
“Like hell it is. She really acts as if our parents don’t exist when it comes to the expensive shit she wants.”
“Well, looks like you’ll be getting little sis her first car. She deserves it since she’s graduating. You look like you got it to spare, homie.”
He guffawed before taking a sip of his drink.
“Your attempt at slang is cute.” He chuckled some more, then continued with his line of questioning.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Red. I like black, too, but mostly red. Why?”
