Titus’s blue-gray eyes heated, so familiar and yet looking so different with an answering lust coloring them brighter. Time stopped and all my senses focused on his face and his lips, pulling even closer.
A door slammed down the hall and Titus stepped back, letting his hands fall to his side. Spell broken. I stuttered in a breath, realizing I was dizzy from lack of oxygen. My hand landed on my chest and I could feel it pumping double time. Titus spun around, his fingers gripping the back of his neck.
He walked out of the room, stopping at the doorframe to toss over his shoulder, “I’ll help you, Amelia. I always do.”
And then he was gone, forgetting to take all the tension in the room with him. I mean, he brought it and created it; he should have cleared it when he left. But still it stayed, making it hard for me to breathe. I spun around and nearly tripped over the garbage bag on the floor that I’d forgotten about.
“What. The. Actual. Fuck. Was. That?” I said out loud to the trashed room.
The empty wine bottles, condom wrappers, and straws of hay littering the floor didn’t answer. I looked down at my legs, seeing if they were still attached to my body. Honest to God, I thought I might be floating. Hovering. Levitating. Whatever. Something was incredibly wrong with the neurons and cells and other shit inside my body I didn’t bother to learn about in science class. Had I known about this eminent malfunction of my body, I may have paid more attention.
My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket, making me jump.
“I’m becoming more like Big Foot every day,” I muttered.
I pulled my phone out and saw a text from Hazel. Oh good. I needed to hear from my girls. They’d knock some sense into me and get my head out of the clouds shaped a lot like Titus’s ridiculous mullet.
Hazel: Ladies, I need some taste testers! I’ve decided to start my own baking company. I’ve got a super fun new creation that I want to take to Coffee and see if they’ll sell it, but I need your opinions first.
I cringed and thought about just shoving the phone back in my pocket without answering. Hazel’s baking was notoriously bad. Even the damn seagulls in Hell didn’t peck at her food. When flying Satan spawn don’t want your cookies, you know it’s bad.
Lucy: Sorry, dear. I’m still breastfeeding Roxy and can’t chance odd ingredients giving her an allergic reaction.
“Ha!” I spat to the empty room. I knew for a fact Lucy was trying to wean Roxy off breastfeeding and that girl was healthy as an ox. She just wanted an excuse not to eat Hazel’s food. My thumbs flew over my screen.
Amelia: Hazel, sweetie, I love you, but I think your talents lie elsewhere. You know how your nose is like a superpower sniffing machine? You should use that. You could make a fortune off your nose.
Hazel: Why, thank you! But what can I do with my nose that will pay me the big bucks?
Finnie: Is there such a thing as a nose fetish? Because I’ve seen some weird things shoved up noses in the ER…
Lucy: If there isn’t, there should be. Nostrils come in a wide variety of lovely shapes and sizes.
Lenora: maybe we should include a nostril plug in our next sex toy subscription boxes at the Hardware Store…
Finnie: I see more urgent care visits in my future. Thanks for keeping me in business, Lenora!
Lucy: I know! I bet there’s a photographer out there doing a whole series just on the slope of noses. Hazel, you have the best shaped nose I’ve ever seen on a woman.
Hazel: *blush emoji*
Amelia: What the fuck, you guys? I meant Hazel should get a job where having a good sniffer is a plus, like being a police detective. Or working at a lotion laboratory formulating the various scents. I mean, you know the sniffer at Bath & Body Works had to have made a fortune with that country apple and warm vanilla sugar back in the day. Did you see they’re bringing back the retro ’90s scents again this year?
Lucy: I already preordered the shower gel, lotion, and body spray in country apple.
Lenora: The next subscription box is going out with the warm vanilla massage oil.
Amelia: Again, what the fuck, you guys? Why didn’t y’all tell me??
Lucy: Sorry, lady. I think that all happened when you were still with Douchebag. Speaking of him, are you and Titus friends again? ’Cause I gotta be honest…I’m getting real sick of seeing mopey Titus.
Amelia: What do you mean ‘mopey Titus’?
My heart rate picked up again at the mention of Titus. Which was weird too. Normally I got happy thinking of Titus, but not jumpy and nervous.
Hazel: Good Lord, the man was such a Debbie Downer while you were with Douchebag. He’s been a freaking ray of sunshine the last week or so, though. I’m assuming that’s because you’re back to being Ametus?
Amelia: Sigh….I’m afraid to even ask. What is Ametus?
Lenora: Well, we could have gone with Tilia, but that sounded super weird. Although Ametus is kinda weird too now that I think about it more…
Amelia: Girls. We’re friends. Not a couple. No need to blend our names.
Finnie: I diagnose “more than friends”…
Amelia: You’re not a freaking love doctor, Finnie!
Lucy: I’m not saying you’re a couple either, but I’d bet Bain’s left testicle (and you know how much I love the pair) there’s more-than-friendly tension there. Don’t kill the messenger…
Amelia: Whatever. And Lucy? That’s TMI.
I
