Page 2 of The Naga

Suddenly, every pair of eyes in the coffee shop was on us, and I glared at the two assholes until they shut up.

"What the fuck was that?" I was surprised at their reaction, since as supernatural beings, we were always required to keep a low profile in human spaces, clearly too hard for my dick of a best friend.

"You are," Silas gasped out, "justtoo precious. My sweet boomer."

I felt like he was insulting me, but I wasn't sure.

"Are you gonna tell me what it means or not?"

"It's an abbreviation. People use it when texting. It means hit me up. He wants you to text or call him," Bellamy explained as he dabbed at his face with a napkin, giving up on saving his shirt entirely. The shirt was a pale brown color—apparently, Bellamy translated keeping a low profile to just disappearing into the background—and I thought the coffee actually might make it look better once it dried.

I hadn't realized I'd made any kind of impression on Dustin. I'd been too stunned to do anything, but now I realized that I'd almost missed my chance with him. What if he hadn't left his number? I had no way of tracking him down, and it might've been the one and only shot I got.

Thank God Dustin had more sense than me.

I had a feeling I was going to be thinking that again soon.

"Oh, okay," I said, then pulled my phone out, ignoring Silas's face—I just knew he was sporting a stupid-ass look—and saving the number.

"Cut it out!" I scowled when I glanced up at Silas's smirking face. God, he could be such a pain in the ass sometimes. He was lucky I loved him.

Dustin

"I'm home, Scrappy!" I called as I stepped into my apartment, and my ginger tabby hellcat raced out of whatever corner of the apartment she'd been hiding in. She was a stray I'd found close to a year ago, and I'd adopted her—and named her Scrappy—because she'd taken on a dog and won. She'd gotten hurt, though, and I took her to the vet because I'm not a monster, andthen she suckered me in with those big black-and-yellow eyes of hers, and now I was her servant.

Scrappy rubbed her head against my leg, and I leaned down to pick her up, carrying her in my arms as I headed to my workstation.

"Scrappy, you wouldn't believe how hot the guy I met today was. He had dark hair and soulful brown eyes and muscle for days.Days, Scrappy! And that stubble, mmm. He had this whole grumpy vibe going, and I totally thought he was straight and I'd get my ass kicked—or, well, smacked, since he was in a wheelchair and all—but then I kinda made him laugh and damn, girl. You should've seen his face. It went from Krampus to Prince Charming in a second." I settled on my chair, placing her in my lap.

Of course, she got up instantly, and jumped onto my desk before taking a nice little walk across my keyboard. Luckily, I hadn't turned on my computer yet. The last time she took a walk like that, I ended up sending a bunch of gibberish to a customer and almost got fired. Such was the life of a cat dad.

Checking my watch, I realized I had some time before I needed to be 'at work,' so I made my way to my bedroom. The best thing about working from home? I could work in my PJs, and no one would get mad.

I pulled my favorite pair out of the closet before removing my top and shorts. The last to go was my chest binder, and I quickly slid on the PJs, admiring myself in the mirror for a moment. It was a onesie type of thing, with a zip at the front. The whole outfit was made of a fluffy, baby-pink material, and the hoodie had a rainbow-colored horn sticking out of the top. It was cheesy and comfy, and I adored it.

Throwing the outside clothes in the laundry, I made a pit stop in the kitchen for Scrappy's pre-pre-lunch snack, then booted up my computer and signed into work. I worked in customersupport for a big online store, and while I used to take calls before, I was switched over to chat support after an…incident. There might have been a bigoted old man and a few sparkly swear words involved, but that was all I was going to say on the matter.

Stretching my arms above my head, I exhaled loudly, then whispered my mantra:Today is never too late to be brand new, by my Queen Taylor. Then, I got typing.

Every day, I thought I couldn't come across a dumber human, and every day I was proven wrong. Sometimes, customers had honest questions and real problems, but more often than not, there were people like this one:

Customer: The shirt I ordered doesn't fit.

Me: What size did you order, sir?

Customer: 38

Me: What size do you usually wear, sir?

Customer: 42

Me: May I ask why you ordered the smaller size?

(It took every cell in my body to force out that level of politeness.)

Customer: I thought it would fit. The material looked like it was stretchy.

I screeched so loud that I scared Scrappy.

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