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NERO: Chapter 13

Nero

My gaze stays focused past King, on Payton’s shaken look, as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

It’s the same look she had on her face when he paid.

Just as King pulls his door shut, Payton looks up, and I swear we lock eyes. But then the car door is slammed shut, and the heavily tinted glass blocks any view Payton might’ve had of me.

“Here,” King grunts, handing me a coffee.

“What did you say to her?” I snap.

“I ordered us breakfast. What the hell do you think I said?”

I roll my shoulders and sit back in my seat, breaking my sightline of Payton.

King drops a paper bag in my lap. “One of those is for me.”

“What is it?”

“Muffins,” King replies as he shifts the vehicle into drive and pulls away from the corner.

I’d make an effort to pay King back, but he’s already rich as royalty so I don’t even bother asking how much it was.

With my free hand, I open the bag, allowing the scent of citrus and sugar to waft out.

“Smells good,” I grumble.

I wish I could’ve seen her up close. I want to see the flecks of midnight that shine in her eyes. I miss her face.

“Did you take a picture?” The second the words are out of my mouth I realize how dumb it sounds.

The car crawls to a stop, and out of the corner of my eye I can see King slowly turn his face toward me. “I’m sorry, I must be losing my fucking mind because it sounded like you just asked me if I took her picture.” He waits a beat for me to answer, but I don’t. “What? You figured I’d just casually take out my phone and snap a pic of her fucking face? As if she wouldn’t immediately call the cops on me for that? Are you insane? Seriously, that’s fucking creepy. Even for us.”

“Okay!” I snap. “I get it.”

“Do you?” King’s tone is incredulous. “What is up with this girl anyway? She got a magic snatch or something?”

“Don’t––” I cut myself off, grinding my teeth. “It’s not like that.”

It’s not like that.” He repeats the words back to me slowly. “Sounds like something some idiot would say, right before we put a bullet in his forehead.”

“Can we drop it?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m not dropping this.”

“She’s just a girl,” I grit out.

I’m beginning to question how much I really need him because, right now silence might be better than having a best friend.

Wanting to delay an explanation, I lift the coffee cup to my mouth and take a sip. What hits my tongue is not the bitter, plain coffee I was expecting.

My body lurches forward in a bend and I have to force myself not to spit the liquid out all over King’s dashboard. King’s booming laughter fills the car, and the urge to end him increases tenfold.

“What the fuck is that?!” I snap when I finally swallow.

But chuckle-face is too busy laughing to reply.

I lift his drink out of the cupholder and sniff it. Plain coffee.

“Seriously?” I sniff at the small opening in my lid. “What the fuck did you get me?”

I’m swapping our drinks, putting the sweet shit he got me in his cupholder when he catches his breath to reply. “Man, I’ve been waiting for your reaction to that, and you did not disappoint.”

“Glad you found it so funny. Because now it’s yours.” I take a deliberate drink of his plain coffee.

“Suit yourself.” He lifts a shoulder. “I just figured you’d like to try your girl’s favorite drink.”

My eyes move back to the original cup. “It’s her favorite?”

“That’s what she said. Took the time to make it herself. Even added some fancy shit on top. But if you don’t want it…”

King starts to reach for it, but I snatch it back, shoving the plain coffee into his hand.

He sighs. “You want to slobber around the rest of the rim first? Since you’ve put your filthy mouth on both of these now.”

“Deal with it.” My tone doesn’t hold the bite I mean it to, I’m too busy sniffing Payton’s favorite drink again. Unreasonably disappointed that it doesn’t smell like roses. “What is it?”

“Coconut and honey, I think she said.” I must pull a face because King snorts. “Yeah, sounded nasty to me too.”

“It’s not nasty,” I admit. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Turning the cup in my hands I see C&H Latte scrawled in sharpie.

It’s her handwriting.

Then I remember what King said about her making it herself.

I wonder…?

I lift the cup to my face and press my nose to the side opposite the writing, where her palm would’ve been, and inhale.

Still no roses.

Damnit.

“Dude.” King sounds exasperated. “Seriously, man, this woman has got you unhinged.”

I tune out King’s words. I don’t have time for his judgment.

He doesn’t understand.

I need her.

Need to consume her.

Prying the lid off, I put the rim of the cup to my lips and drink down the entire thing in a few large gulps. Relishing the way the hot liquid scorches my throat. Feeding the fire of obsession roaring through my bloodstream.


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