Daphne sighed, the steam coming off her cup of coffee creating a shield between us. “Are you going home for Christmas?” She repeated her question. Before I could answer, she said, “Where have you been lately, Sutton? I barely see you anymore and when I do, you’re here in person,” she waved a hand at me, “but off in la la land.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Caelan?”
I nodded. “A
nd to answer your question about Christmas, no, I won’t be going home.” She didn’t know, but it wasn’t like I had a home to go back to. The townhouse I’d lived in had been owned by my boyfriend and I doubted my parent’s ever wanted to see me again. I hoped one day that their rejection wouldn’t sting as much.
“You look sad,” she commented.
“I suppose I am.”
“Why?” An elegant brow arched with the question. She lifted the cup of coffee to her lips and took a delicate sip. I wished I looked like that drinking coffee. I probably sounded like a dog sloshing around in its water bowl.
I shrugged. “This time of year should be about family, and for me it’s not.” Anymore.
“Oh, Sutton,” she reached out, gently placing her hand overtop mine. “You can come to my parent’s house with Frankie and me. My mom always bakes enough to feed the entire neighborhood and there’s an extra bedroom. You wouldn’t be intruding, promise.”
Sadly I was tempted to take her up on the offer, but I didn’t. “Thanks for the offer, but no. I’ll hang out here. I might bribe Caelan with sexual favors in order to make him get a tree and put up decorations.”
In a very un-Daphne-like gesture, she spit out her coffee. It splattered over the table and some landed on my shirt. Great.
“Sexual favors? Really, Sutton? Have you ever heard of TMI?”
I rolled my eyes and leaned forward to wipe up the mess with a napkin. “We’re both adults, why can’t we talk about sex?”
She squirmed in her seat. “We can, but not in public. Please?”
I looked around at the mostly empty coffee shop. “I’m sure the dude in the back listening to music is scandalized by my use of the word ‘sexual.’”
Daphne’s cheeks flushed.
Grinning, I said, “Sex, sex, sex, penis, sex, vagina, sex, sex, sex.”
“Oh, God.” She covered her face, completely mortified. “I hate you so much.”
“What’s going on here?” Emery asked, pulling out a rag to wipe up some of the mess I had missed.
“Nothing!” Daphne shrieked.
“Just talking about sex,” I shrugged innocently.
Daphne’s face grew so red that it matched her hair.
Emery let out a husky chuckle as he looked between us. He tucked the rag in his back pocket and crossed his arms over his chest, only accentuating how muscular he was. I figured Daphne was about two seconds away from melting into a pile of goo.
“Sex, huh?” He smirked. “Sex with who?”
“Just sex,” I said, then to embarrass Daphne further I added, “although my friend here is really in need of being laid. Know anyone interested?”
“Oh. My. God.” Daphne peeked through her fingers. “I’m mortified.”
Emery chuckled, playing along. “I’ll put a flier up and see if there are any interested suitors.”
“I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you,” Daphne shook her head, her hair swishing around her shoulders.
“Love you too, Daph,” I smiled.