Page 68 of The Magic of Revenge
“It’s okay, I knew you couldn’t be that sexy without any flaws.” He patted my knee.
I paused. “You think I’m sexy?”
His dark eyes trailed over my face. “You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen,” he practically purred.
My stomach flipped and I straightened back to my full height. “Well, I’m flattered. But, I don’t swing that way.”
Faris looked at me in confusion for a second, before snapping his fingers. “Right,” he said. “The loose butthole would be problematic.”
“Gods damnit, I don’t have a loose butthole!” I shouted and heard a gasp from the end of the aisle. Spinning around, I saw a ninety-year-old woman clutching her pearls and hobbling away as fast as she could. Shit.
Turning my attention back to the crazy man on the floor, he was admiring his mac and cheese once again.
"I can't wait to try this!" Faris grabbed a noodle and again, before I could stop him or speak a single damn word, he licked it and dipped it into the cheese powder. He tossed it into his mouth, the loud crunch of the dry noodle making me wince.
He closed his eyes as he crunched away and then his eyes flashed open. In a blink, he was on his feet. "This is a game changer! Be right back." Then he was gone, my hair whipping around my face from the wind that was stirred up by his sudden departure.
I heard the telltale sound of wheels moving at high speed. Our cart still had plenty of room... What the hell was he doing?
"Okay, I'm back," he giggled, aligning the cart up with the shelf holding the EasyMac. With a swipe of his arm, he knocked every single one they had into the basket of the cart. There were probably twenty-five individual cups and then ten or fifteen four packs.
"Faris, you know we can come back to get more whenever. We don't need to buy all of these today," I tried explaining, but he just looked at me like I told him I was going to shit on Napoleon.
"That's nonsense. Why would we do that when we can just get them now and not have to worry that next time they'll run out? That makes no sense. You're supposed to be smart." He shook his head in disappointment. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I got your back. If you're ever wondering if something makes sense or not, just come to me. That's what friends are for. Now, let's get out of here. I saw a tattoo shop down the street and I think I want to get a piercing." He clapped me on the back and pushed his haul down the aisle, heading for the registers.
Snapping out of my shock at everything that had just come out of his mouth, I shouted, "The hell do you mean, a piercing?" His laughter bounced off the walls even when he was out of sight.
Oh fuck. Something told me that this was only the tip of the Faris iceberg. There was some part of me, though, that really wanted to know what was hiding beneath the surface.
* * *
We'd loadedthe car to the brim with enough food for an army.Or Goldie's army of sexy soldiers. I smiled at the thought.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
The expression slid from my face and I turned my head to look at Faris. I stumbled back when I realized he was standing so close to me. I'd accidentally gave him a fucking kiss with my nose.
"Faris. We gotta talk about personal space, my man."
His mouth opened to respond, but his eyes snagged on something a little ways down the street.
"Let's go," he said, grabbing my hand and slamming the trunk closed with the other. "Lock it up. Come on," he urged impatiently. My fingers fumbled over the key fob, but a honk let me know I'd succeeded in locking the damn car.
"What kind of piercing are you wanting?" I prompted, hoping he didn't say he wanted a fancy peen like Cam.
"I'm not quite sure yet. There are a few options I'm considering. You can tell me if they'll look hot or not," he grinned and gods damn, that fluttering feeling was back. We came to a halt in front of Voodoo Tattoo. It looked like a clean and modern environment, artwork covering the walls. Two artists had clients and it seemed relaxed. Everyone was laughing, big smiles on their faces.
I'd gotten quite a few tattoos over the years, but I didn't have any piercings. My curiosity was definitely piqued. We entered the shop and headed for the large counter to wait our turn to be helped.
"No tattoos then?" I questioned Faris, as he flipped through one of the artist’s portfolios.
"Just didn't want to get one without Firefly coming with me. I haven't exactly had a lot of time to think about what I'd even want to get. Maybe another day..."
"Welcome to Voodoo Tattoo! What brings you in today?" A huge guy with a round belly stepped up to where we were standing. He had one hell of a mustache—it even curled at the ends. "Name's Tom, nice to meet you two," he said, offering each of us his hand to shake. Faris looked at his hand like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it, so I shook it first. I saw his relief as he eyed us and then copied me.Didn't he know anything about social norms? I mean, he was a part of Fischer for... basically forever.
"I want to get pierced," Faris told him and Tom grinned.
"Ah, a blank canvas. Any ink hiding under there?" Tom asked, letting his eyes trail down Faris' lean frame. My forehead tickled as annoyance flashed through me.Do not sprout horns in this tattoo shop.
