Page 39 of Strelitzias in Spring

Ava: Serena, I have two questions. First and foremost, what are your thoughts on organ meat? A hard no or down to try? Secondly, when will you be home, and can I use your kitchen to test out a recipe for my international foods class? I’d try it at Grey’s house, but he’s pissing me off, and I may pull a Celeste if I have to suffer in his presence for another minute.

CeCe: Pull a Celeste?

Ava: You know, threaten to cause bodily harm to my boyfriend because he pissed me off. Not everyone can look like a cute Cabbage Patch kid when angered.

CeCe: Sod off.

Serena: C, are you watching Masterpiece Theatre again?

CeCe: I started watching a show on ITV. It’s bloody brilliant.

Ava: Good God, you are not British.

Serena: …Anyway, as long as you don’t make liver and onions, it’s fine. But just a disclaimer: I probably won’t eat it.

Ava: Fair enough. Does tomorrow work?

I confirm with Ava, letting both her and CeCe know that they could come at anytime tomorrow before shoving my phone in my bag and twisting my key to pull it out of the ignition. In the silence of the car, I give myself a mental pep talk thatno, this will not result in another heated argument, and no, I will not let my temper ignite if Wolf says something stupid.

I correct myself; it’s notifhe says something stupid, but when.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I mutter to myself and push open my door. I have a profound sense of déjà vu as I step out of my car and look at the front of the building. Each time I’ve been here, I’ve had to mentally corral my emotions, like I’m herding a bunch of cats out of a room with wallpaper.

I don’t dwell on those butterflies I’m feeling, nor do I call upon the residual anger I’m harboring from yesterday. Instead, I breathe in a deep breath and center myself, focusing on remaining calm before I start the walk across the parking lot to the entrance of the tattoo parlor.

I don’t pause when I reach the door. Yanking it open, I step over the threshold like I’ve been here plenty of times before—which, at this point, is true enough. Aubrey pauses in her assistance of a client and furrows her brow, looking at me with confusion. “Am I hallucinating right now? Weren’t you here yesterday?”

“Your boss made me come in again.”

Looking from me to the customer in front of her, she holds up her hand, telling them that she’ll be with them in one minute as she makes her way over to me. “So, you’re the reason why he’s had such a pissy attitude all day. It’s all starting to make so much sense.”

I shake my head, denying her words. “No, maybe he has indigestion or a stick lodged so firmly up his ass that he can’t sit properly. I think those are more plausible explanations for his attitude.”

“What was that about a stick up my ass, princess?”

Dammit.

“Nothing. I didn’t say that,” I respond before turning around and gasping at the split skin and swollenness surrounding his eye. “What happened to you?”

He arches an eyebrow and smirks his stupidly full lips. “What, you’re the only one who can wear bruises on your body?”

“Spare me. Seriously, are you okay?” I reach out to touch his face before remembering where we are and who we are and dropping it back to my side. I’m no detective, but he had no marred features last night when I saw him, so something had to have occurred sometime between the time I left the shop and before I arrived.

“I’m fine, Serena. I went to the gym this morning to help my coach train one of the guys, and he got a good hit on me,” he says with disgust in his voice, like he’s pissed someone dared to hit him while sparring.

“Fucking Gage,” Aubrey mutters behind me. “Was Kelly there again?”

“Aubrey,” Wolf lashes out, whipping her name out like a strike. “Don’t go there.”

“What? Don’t talk shit about the guy your girlfriend left you for, and your coach is forcing you to help train, even though you’re retiring. Don’t talk about that?”

My eyes widen at her words, and though shock must be stamped across my features, Wolf looks ready to throttle Aubrey. “Ex-girlfriend and Jedd is more than a coach, and you know it, so don’t talk shit about him, Aubs. Now, are you done airing my fucking secrets, or do you want to give Serena my social security number and blood type, too?”

He doesn’t wait for Aubrey to respond and instead starts walking toward the back of the shop, not bothering to pause when he shouts, “Let’s go, Serena,” over his shoulder.

I glance over at Aubrey and note her bemused expression, as though she finds it amusing that she got under Wolf’s skin enough to force him to flee her presence. “Told you he was in a pissy mood.”

“It’s safe to say I’m not the cause.” Shaking my head, I offer Aubrey a wave and follow Wolf’s path. When I enter the room, I stop just inside the door and cross my arms, waiting for him to look over to me.

---