Page 9 of Reading Between the Lines
Relationships by design came with a long list of requirements. Failure to meet those requirements was grounds for getting dumped. It meant spending quiet, intimate time together. It meant touching, sitting close, holding hands, and kissing. It meant communicating. It meant exchanging stories about your day.
It meant sharing a bed… and making love.
Every single one of those requirements challenged me.
Although Tallus recognized and accepted my struggles, he wanted to see effort. He wanted romance.
I was trying. Dear fucking god, I was trying, but in no universe were the words romance and Diem Krause synonymous.
I checked on Baby, ensuring the complex system that regulated her environment was running correctly since I planned to be gone for two days. Curled in her hollow log, she didn’t acknowledge my presence. “I’ll be back on Wednesday. Keep the bad guys out, and I’ll be sure to get the juiciest rodent I can for your next meal.” I paused, then added, “If the landlord comes by, tell him to fuck off. I’ll have his money next week.”
She didn’t respond. She wasn’t a fucking dog who would sulk and sit at the window, waiting for my return, but I liked it that way. We understood each other.
I scanned the single-room living space I rented that was attached to my office. If I didn’t pull a miracle out of my hat soon, I’d be on the street. My landlord had threatened eviction twice if I didn’t come up with the rest of his money. Between rent and bills and not enough jobs to cover expenses, I was screwed. I could only fend off bill collectors for so long before they sent me to collections. When that happened, I would have no choice but to file for bankruptcy.
Since winter had pummeled the city early that year, I donned a warmer jacket than my traditional trench coat, stuffed a knitted beanie and leather gloves into the pockets, snagged the gym bag I’d packed, and shoved my feet into warm boots. With the Jeep keys in hand, I headed out the door.
Knowing Tallus, he wouldn’t need the forty minutes I’d given him and would be in the parking garage before long, ready to bounce.
As I predicted, Tallus pulled into the covered lot ten minutes early, parking an aisle away in a visitor’s spot. He sashayed toward me, wearing a light jacket, no hat, and his work shoes. I’d have grumbled about his inappropriate clothing, but a beaming smile lit up his face and accentuated his high cheekbones, leaving me staggered and mute like always.
Tallus was fashion model material. In trendy jeans, a designer polo, and leather loafers, he looked like a million bucks. Knowing his spending habits, the assessment likely wasn’t far off. The come-fuck-me glasses were the icing on the cake. I’d known Tallus for a year, and the dark frames never failed to make my knees weak. They tipped the sexy-o-meter from a solid ten to infinity.
And he was fucking mine. Baffling.
Oozing confidence, he strutted right up to me without stopping—I’d been leaning against the back of the Jeep—and dropped his backpack to the ground before lifting to his toes, snagging my hips, and planting a wet, welcoming kiss on my mouth.
Better than candy.
The greeting had become commonplace, and I reveled at the contact, no longer flinching or tensing. I’d learned how to kiss him back, which was an accomplishment in itself.
“Hey, boyfriend,” he cooed when he broke free.
“Hey.” I choked on the single syllable. I wanted to tell him I loved his sass and spark, his walk, his style, his come-fuck-me frames. I wanted to fall to my knees and thank him for putting up with me. I wanted to pull him back against my mouth and savor his sweet candy taste.
Instead, I did what I always did and floundered, lost for words.
Playful as always, he bopped my nose like I was five and smirked. “PS, Guns, I don’t appreciate you messing with me like that on the phone. Rude. You had me going. My feelingswere genuinely hurt. I sulked. It was not attractive. My mother witnessed it all.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, quelling a smile.
Tallus wasn’t fooled and pinched my chin, giving my head a shake. “Uh-huh. I see your smugness. You’re dying to laugh at me, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Liar. I’m not accustomed to you making jokes. I admit, the surly edge worked in your favor. I really thought you would go off and have fun without me.”
I wet my lips, cleared my throat, and mumbled, “I didn’t want to go alone.”
“Aww. Are you afraid you’ll put your foot in your mouth?”
I grunted in affirmation. I’d lost more jobs because of my attitude and lack of filter than I cared to admit. The point of bringing Tallus into Shadowy Solutions was to better the business. Client retention was important. Clients brought jobs. Jobs paid money. Money covered rent and bills. It was how the world went round. Some people excelled, and some people were like me. A failure. Tallus was my opposite when it came to social affairs and communication.
Plus, having a drop-dead gorgeous co-worker who let me get him naked from time to time didn’t hurt either.
“Admit it. You needed my charming personality.”
“Always.”
