Page 57 of Awry
I might groan out loud.
Cayley and Tasmin laugh.Robustly.
Then Tasmin settles her hands on her hips and looks at me expectantly.I somehow manage to wrap my hands fully around the massive halibut burger and take a huge bite.Various sauces and juices drip down all over my plate and fries.I chew, epically happy.
Cayley reaches for one of my fries, and Tasmin slaps her hand away.“I’ve got yours coming.”
“Look at the size of her!”Cayley exclaims.“She’s not going to be able to manage even a third of that plate.”
Tasmin throws me a fierce look, as if I’m the one refusing to eat.I quickly take another bite, even though I haven’t quite finished swallowing the first one.
Cayley chuckles quietly, watching me steadily.
“I don’t want the two of you having any problems of the male persuasion,” Tasmin says.
Cayley’s shoulders stiffen, and her watchful gaze narrows slightly.“Why would we?”
Tasmin casts me a look, as if I’m supposed to understand and explain her odd statement.
I eat three fries at once, the burger still held firmly in my other hand.I have no idea what she’s talking about.Grinder?He’s self-reportedly old enough to be my grandfather.Any other males in my life are usually repeat one-offs.As in, I have five or so occasional bedmates kind of scattered around the globe that I don’t actually take to my bed.To be honest, sex is … fine.Skin contact is nice.But I’m not big on the transferring of fluids.And really, I can climax by my own hand, or the shower wand, a hell of a lot easier.
Cayley transfers her gaze to Tasmin.“Why would we?”she repeats, no playfulness in her tone now.
Tasmin just shrugs, as if she’s not taking any responsibility for whatever she thinks is going to be a ‘problem’ between us.Then she waves over one of the waitstaff exiting the kitchen with a large bowl.
In her midteens, with dirty-blond hair, and a shifter as far as I can tell at a glance, the server passes the bowl to Tasmin, smiling at Cayley tentatively.“Hey, Cay.”
Cayley barely acknowledges her.“Yo, Kris.”
Tasmin slides the bowl over to Cayley — a delectable grilled-chicken Caesar salad, replete with crusty croutons, a hunk of cheesy garlic bread, and a parmesan tuile.I’m pretty certain the half-head of romaine has been grilled.And sprinkled with what might be candied lemon.
A world-class chef appears to be slumming at the Tasty Tart diner for the offseason.Not that I would ever say so out loud.I’ll be outed as a food snob quickly enough.
If I’m sticking around.
Tasmin casts a narrow-eyed gaze over both of us again, as if we’re unruly children.Then she heads off to check on the other tables with a huff, though I get the sense that she’s not actually serving anyone but us.More managing or overseeing, perhaps.
The server, Kris, lingers for a moment, way more interested in Cayley than me, but then gets called away when the next order is ready.
I eye the gorgeous shifter across from me as she curates her first bite of salad.I’m pretty certain Cayley will trade a few of my fries for a few bites of her salad, but I might actually have to be friendly to pull off the transaction.
And it’s not that I can’t be friendly.It’s just that I’m not wholly inhabiting my mortal coil yet, so even casual conversation, let alone the monumental intimacy of sharing food, is way beyond me.
We eat in silence for a while.I’m halfway through my second milkshake.It’s just sweet enough to be soul satisfying without being achingly so.
Feeling a bit more grounded, I slide my plate slightly closer to Cayley, fries piled on her side.She takes one, then another, nibbling them between slow bites of her salad, a bit of lettuce, crouton, and chicken stacked on her fork each time.
She’s reaching for a third fry when I finally feel it.The tug of a thin thread between us.I don’t immediately sense what that connection means, but I’m not interested in disturbing the peace I’m currently luxuriating in to look closely enough toknow.
Thatsomethingshifts between us, though.Thickening as Cayley pushes her half-eaten salad slightly to the side, reaching across to steal another of my fries.
She savors the fry.Her gaze on me is weighty, even though I’m avoiding acknowledging it in favor of my milkshake.It’s … it’s as if she’s anchoring herself to me somehow …
I really am too drained to take on whatever that means.
Of course, my state of mind and body means nothing in the grand scheme of the universe.I am Everlasting.And there’s no point in fighting it.I’ll just be forced to act either way.Until the moment comes that I’m allowed to embrace theAfter, and the mantle of the Conduit falls to my successor.
Though I’ve only been the Conduit for three weeks, I’ve already experienced the practical application of that lesson — a lesson first drilled into me by my Aunt Disa.I have, on multiple occasions, seen it forced upon my aunt’s will as well.
