Page 9 of Extraction Play

In a way, Pixie was glad her mom didn’t live in the same place they’d grown up.

She sat at the kitchen table in her mom’s rancher, the sunlight streaming through the windows. Altogether Maisie Monroe had turned her life around, which was so different from the childhood Pixie had known of showing up at a different homeless shelter or friend of her mother’s house. Spending most of high school couch surfing with friends while she had no idea where her mom might be.

“Okay, green tea or chamomile rose?” Maisie lifted the steaming kettle. Her mom had gotten the help she needed, courtesy of Pixie’s two aunts, who had finally stepped in after ignoring it for so long. If only they’d assisted her earlier, but she couldn’t blame them for not wanting to deal with it when Maisie had been at her worst. Pixie hadn’t wanted to either. She’d just been too young to have a choice.

“Chamomile rose.” Those floral flavors drew her in every time. The memory of grabbing boba with Eva the other night bubbled up, sending a burst of warmth through her. The woman had been on her mind more than was healthy, but apart from lingering looks in the house, they’d both behaved.

Her mom poured the cups, the fragrant scent wafting her way. She took a seat at the scratch and dent table and placed a cup in front of Pixie.

“How are you feeling?” Pixie asked. The question always lingered in the back of her mind during her visits. If only she could see her mother through the lens of anyone meeting her now. They would witness someone well adjusted, who might have their ups and downs with their mental illness but truly had learned how to navigate life with it.

Maisie’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Her pale blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun, and she wore a bright blue kaftan, which fit the vibe for the healing spa she worked at now. She was a Reiki master and practiced some other healing therapies, and the group she was involved in seemed to be wonderful for her health, both inside and out.

“Isn’t that the question I should be asking you?” Maisie teased before her expression softened. “I’m okay. Been dragging a little more, and I have the feeling I’m heading into a depressive episode.”

Pixie’s chest squeezed tight. The manic episodes were scarier and tended to lead to more schizophrenic symptoms, but the depressive ones had been longer, harder slogs. “Can I help with anything?”

Maisie fixed her with a stern look. “You don’t need to still be taking care of me. Tell me about you. Anyone special in your life?”

Pixie wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t averse to dating, but she struggled. In relationships, she was always the one to leave first, whichleft her wondering if she’d seen the red flags or imagined them in self-preservation. “Nothing crazy for me.”

The call about the resident artist position weighed heavily on her mind, but she wouldn’t burden her mom with that. Right now, she was an hour away, far enough for her sanity but close enough to help in an emergency. She took a sip of the chamomile rose tea, the liquid burning pleasantly. If she got the position, she wasn’t sure how her mom would handle it. Or Micah and the others at Whipped. She wanted to believe everyone would miss her, but those niggling doubts persisted. That no one would care.

Her gut churned.

“You deserve so much more than you give yourself,” Maisie said. The care in her soft blue eyes, the knowing look made Pixie’s throat tighten. She wished she could accept the concern offered, that it didn’t stir up the hornet’s nest of her past, but she’d never managed to accomplish that feat.

“Hey, I get to paint and do graphic design for a living.” Pixie saluted with her cup. “I’m living the dream.”

Her phone vibrated, and she glanced at the screen, desperate to escape the scrutiny from her mother. Eva had messaged.

Beer?

Pixie shot a quick text back.Are you asking if we have some, or do you want to grab one?

The return response hit like lightning.The latter, if it isn’t a bother.

You pick the place. I can be there in two hours.

That would give her enough time to finish here and freshen up. Mostly because she wanted Eva’s eyes on her, even if she shouldn’t. But after visits with her mom, she always buzzed a little on edge, although through no fault of Maisie, who was always sweet and considerate.

Pixie had just never found a way to shake off the memories.

***

Pixie rolled up in front of Aristotle Café, the place Eva had picked, a twenty-four-hour café with an eclectic menu. She was impressed, to say the least. Eva wasn’t from here but had managed to find a unique spot Pixie hadn’t tried yet.

When she stepped in, the scent of beer, cedar, and leather greeted her. The dim ambiance was exactly what she wanted. The fairy light accents throughout and the rich walnut furnishings lent a cozy look to the place. The hour was a little before the evening rush, but she didn’t mind coming out for a beer at three in the afternoon. Half the time, she ended up working odd hours with her graphic design clients and whatever piece she was in the middle of, so this meshed perfectly for her.

Pixie didn’t have to look hard to find Eva. The auburn-haired goddess sat at a two-seater along the side, facing the door. The shadows sharpened her features, giving a razor edge to her chin and highlighting her lips with precision. Her red hair had more russet tones in this light, and she’d swept it in an effortless low chignon. With her cream blouse and black pencil skirt, she looked more Domme-ish than ever, and Pixie’s core throbbed at the sight of her.

Her pink off-shoulder tunic and gray leggings were on the casual side in comparison, but Eva didn’t seem to mind. The incendiary way she scanned Pixie over set her whole body on fire and didn’t tampdown the lust broiling through her veins.

Pixie slipped into the seat opposite Eva, who had an almost empty pint of beer in front of her.

“What can I get for you?” Eva asked. “It’s on me.”

Pixie sat a little straighter. Eva seemed off-kilter tonight, like the storm brewing in her dark eyes had somehow intensified. “The hoppier, the better. Feel free to order for me.”

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