Page 6 of Spit

I noted the number of Tim Horton's wrappers in the back seat—mainly because of how many muffins I liked to consume and promised myself I would clean up the trash. A promise I knew I would forget about the moment I got out of the car.

I reached for the handle when someone called my name. I closed my eyes and prayed toDeath and Darknessfor strength or maybe a meteor. Anything to get me out of the conversation I was about to have.

I forced a smile on my face and turned towards the origin of the voice—Maverick, who I had been semi-dating until last week

I gave a little wave. “Mav.” I nodded. “What are you doing here?”

Though Maverick was a werewolf with all the muscle that had come with that. He was considered short by wolf standards at 5’8, and his eyes were level with mine, though his arms were longer.

“Lexi.” He breathed, taking me in like I was a fresh glass of water in the desert.

My eyes narrowed. “What’s up?”

“I want to try again.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “No.”

Mav clicked his tongue. “We were good together.”

“You don’t understand boundaries.” I snapped back.

“Is this your weird anti-kissing thing?” Maverick whined. “Come on, only prostitutes get weird about kissing!”

Instead of being insulted, I crossed my arms back and allowed an amused smile to play out on my face. “Did you just compare me to a sex worker?”

His cheeks burned red. “I miss you.”

I waved away his declaration like a bad smell. “You tried to kiss me when I told you not to,” I warned.

“You don’t give an inch,” Maverick said, his shoulders lowered as if a heavy weight had pressed down on him.

“I know,” I told him as I opened the car door. “We went on two dates.Two.”

“They were good dates.” He argued.

I took a moment to study him. Maverick might have been a werewolf, but he dressed like someone in law school. A pink polo shirt with slacks. I had no idea what I saw in him. “Don’t come here again,” I warned before getting in my car.

He didn’t move a muscle, watching me as I drove away.

I’d parked a few blocks from the office, unable to get any closer without getting a ticket. I might have been a leather-wearing null witch, but I tried to avoid the cops when I could.

Fall has brought a chill to the air, reminding everyone that summer was well and truly over. Canal Street was busy, filled with tourists and street vendors. Just any other day in Nola. The trees lining the sidewalk had molted their leaves onto the ground, but the influx of tourists hadn’t stopped even a little as the seasons changed.

I had promised Kailee that I would drop by the office that evening and finally catch up on the schedules and invoices waiting for my signature.

I wanted to do paperwork like I wanted a hole in the head, but running a business came with sacrifices.

My phone vibrated, a text from an unknown number. I was glad it wasn’t Maverick with more pleading, but I want happy that Beelzebub had started his monthly routine. The subject line simply showed my full name, Alexis Boudaire, as if I was a child being scolded. I didn’t bother to read the rest before I turned my phone off and stuffed it in my pocket.

I had things to do.

Though I would probably pay for that insolence later.

Our office sat on top of a café that sold French hot chocolate as thick as concrete and dark as sin. It was a prime location but hell on my waistline—even with a demonic shadow that consumed ten thousand calories daily.

The smell of pastries and butter made my stomach rumble as I bypassed the café awning and pushed past the door. I wished I’d had time to eat a few more of Babette’s muffins before I left my apartment.

The golden lettering read‘Dare Security,’with a list of our provided services underneath.

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