Dahlia's Kiss

YES, SIR

Drake buzzedme in when I arrived.

“You’re a mess. What happened to you?”

It dawned on me that he’d never seen me in jeans and a t-shirt before. My hair was in a messy bun, and I wore no makeup. That was not normal. Perhaps I should have looked in the mirror before I rushed over. Too late for that now. He held the door open wide enough for me to duck through and closed it behind me, careful to throw the deadbolt.

“Okay, talk. You look like someone is chasing you. You better not have led some psychopath to my door.”

He meant it as a joke, but my throat clenched, and I felt my eyes fill with tears. I was not a crier. It had been at least twenty years since the last time I cried, and I wasn’t about to start now. Swallowing back the lump forming somewhere near my vocal cords, I held my breath, counted to ten, and willed my eyes to dry. When I looked at him, I was back in control of my emotions.

“Okay, what was that?” he asked.

“What was what?” I tried to pretend not to know what he referred to, but he wasn’t going to back down.

“I’ve never seen you this upset. Even now, you’re trying not to let on like you want to cry. What happened? Your secret is safe with me. Hell, you could ruin me if you ever told anyone what we do at the office. I’m not going to pretend to understand a woman’s emotions. There is a reason why I stay single. I will try to be helpful as a friend, though. We are friends, aren’t we?”

I chuckled in spite of myself. He was trying so hard to be supportive. “Yeah, I suppose we are.”

“Okay then, tell me who hurt you so I can ruin them. There are perks to having a lawyer as a friend. I have all kinds of favors I can call in.” He wiggled his eyebrows and nudged me with his elbow.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.” I nudged him back with my hip. There wasn’t a whole lot I could tell him. Everything revolved around what I really was, and that was something I simply could not divulge to him. He would laugh in my face if I tried to explain how I had three Incubus’ bonded to me, when there should have only ever been one. I suppose Cole didn’t count, though, since he had no interest in claiming me. It was funny that of all of my suitors, I was most intrigued by him. Maybe it was because he didn’t want me. Girls always do go after the one they can’t have, don’t they?

“I just opened a bottle of wine.” He touched my elbow, and I succumbed to his direction. “I’ll pour you a glass and we can talk.”

He lied. The bottle sat on the counter with the cork fully in place. “Thought you said you just opened one.”

“Got you in the kitchen, didn’t it? Sit down.”

I did as I was told and waited for him to pop the top and pour the glass. It was a dark merlot, and probably worth more than a month's rent at my place. It tasted bitter on my tongue, but the aftertaste was glorious, like freshly picked cherries, tart and sweet at the same time.

“So?”

“So, someone broke into my apartment. I was feeling a bit insecure, and I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.” I looked at my hand around the stem of the glass. My nails were wrecked. I didn’t remember scraping them on anything.

“Did you call the police?” he asked, pouring himself a second glass.

“Yeah, but they didn’t find anything to identify who did it. They stole all my underwear.”

Drake spit his wine all over the counter and covered his mouth with his hand. The laugh that burst from his chest infuriated me and embarrassed me simultaneously. His eyes glittered with amusement as he fumbled with the wine bottle while trying to refill his glass a third time.

“Your underwear? Really?”

“It’s not funny,” I protested.

“It’s a little funny. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in underwear. Every time I raise your skirt, there is nothing but bare flesh there.” His eyes drifted over my body and settled on my jeans. He frowned, and I knew he didn’t care for my attire. “Are you wearing panties now?”

I didn’t remember if I was or wasn’t. “I think you’re missing the point here, Drake. Someone got into the place where I live. They went through my personal belongings, and they stole from me. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to go home there now. What if they come back?”

“You want a gun?”

It was my turn to spew red liquid on the pristine, white center island. The color reminded me of David’s stained sheets and I felt my stomach turn over. “I don’t like guns.”

“You don’t have to like them, you just have to know how to use them.”

“No, thank you.”

Drake shrugged. “Suit yourself.”