Page 21 of Dramatic AF
Thefirstdaysoffall had arrived with more of a whisper than a roar.
The trees that lined the downtown plaza stood lush and green, the flowers that bloomed at their base still alive with color. Afternoon temperatures remained scorching under bright, clear skies, and people continued to flock to the beaches.
Mornings, however, had turned cooler, the humidity less oppressive, and every now and then, I thought I detected the first traces of autumn on the breeze. That crisp, inviting scent that hinted at pumpkin spice lattes and cozy nights curled beneath a blanket with a good book.
“You look happy.”
I glanced up to find my mate smiling at me from across the table. His elbows rested atop the surface, his fist tucked under his chin, and his eyes sparkled in the late morning sun.
Leaning back in my seat on the cafe patio, I returned his smile around the rim of my coffee mug. “That’s because I am.”
I had to be at the theater in a few hours, and I had no doubt opening night jitters would catch up with me soon. For now, though, I felt perfectly content.
He reached across the table, his fingers brushing over my knuckles, a gentle touch that sent pleasant tingles dancing across my skin. “Do you want me to stay over tonight?”
I ducked my head, unable to keep my smile from stretching wider. “Of course.”
Given my way, I would never let him leave. In fact, I had already started practicing how I would ask him to move in with me.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, turning my hand over to trace the delicate lines of the mating mark on my palm.
I shivered from the contact but shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “A little.”
“Don’t be. I have it on good authority that you’re going to be brilliant.”
“And whose authority would that be?”
“Mine.” He grinned, dimples flashing. “I’ve been watching you for weeks now, Jay. You’re ready.”
I mirrored his smile but said nothing, unable to speak past the emotion that tightened my throat. It was exactly what I’d needed to hear, and his confidence in me sent a flood of warmth through my veins.
I wanted to stop time, to live in that moment, but of course, the world kept turning.
Pedestrians rushed past on the sidewalk. Cars idled at a nearby stoplight. The breeze picked up, carrying with it the faintest hint of distance rain and the muted laughter of children playing in the square.
“Finish up,” Trick said, nodding at my half-empty plate “You’re not going to get a chance to eat again until after the show.”
I sighed and made a big production of picking up my fork and shoveling a piece of omelet into my mouth, secretly loving the way he laughed at my antics.
A comfortable silence fell over us as I worked steadily through my veggie omelet. Across from me, Trick tapped a light rhythm on the table with two fingers, the same melody he always drummed when he had something on his mind.
After a while, his attention wandered to the sky, but his gaze looked far away and unfocused.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
His eyes flickered back to mine, and he shook his head. “Nothing much.”
A burst of wind swept across the patio, fluttering my hair and curling the napkins in their holder. Apparently, even Mother Nature had detected the lie.
Though I had a pretty good idea what had put that look on his face, I didn’t press. The memory of the would-be intruder weighed on me as well, but nothing had come from the search, and no one had been hurt.
It felt kind of shitty to let him carry the burden alone, but with curtain call only a few hours away, I didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about it right then. Besides, Trick had already agreed to stay over, and being mated to a hellhound made me just about the safest person in the city.
Plate cleared and stomach full, I scrolled through my phone, reading the buzz about the play while I waited for Trick to settle the bill. The excitement online made me smile. The thirst posts about me stung my cheeks with embarrassment.
Mostly, though, I just hoped I could live up to the hype that seemed to be sweeping across social media.
“Everything okay?” The metal legs of Trick’s chair scraped over the concrete as he pushed away from the table and stood. “Your cheeks are a little pink.”
