Page 52 of Hex and the City
This was all too much conjecture based on little to no evidence. I was overthinking, like I did with everything. I could worry about all that some other time. No sense ruining a good thing.
“Okay, so Unholy Grounds is a couple blocks that way,” he said, pointing down at the street from a window. “The croissant place is the other way. We’ll meet back here when we’re done. Oh. And would you mind if I kissed you?”
I gaped at him. “Sorry. What?”
He pointed at the side of his mouth. “Nothing sexy. I just — I kind of want to kiss you, right there. I’d like to know if that’s okay.”
I shook my head, even though I was totally okay with it. “You’re a strange man, Maximilian Drake. But yes. I’m okay with that. I’d like that very much, in fact.”
Max bent in closer, fingers delicately handling the side of my jaw. He pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, quick, and chaste. His lips burned on my skin, the faint, lingering wetness like wax stamped with a royal seal, searing as it waited to dry.
“Is that okay?” he asked, staring into my eyes, watching for my response.
“Yeah, that works,” I said, lying straight to his face, pretending I didn’t want more. I rubbed at my cheek, feeling a blush coming on. “Gosh. That’s awfully sweet.”
He chuckled good-naturedly. “I know most people like to think that I’m bitter, or sour, or salty. But I can be sweet. I can be very sweet. Now let’s go pick up some breakfast.”
Some five or so minutes later we’d both made it to the ground floor without ripping each other’s clothes off, somehow surviving even the long trip in the elevator. He slipped on a pair of dark aviator sunglasses — as if he couldn’t be handsomer — then waved goodbye, heading off in the opposite direction.
Nice day out in Dos Lunas, not so much traffic this time of morning. Not that I needed to suffer through any of it on foot. I cleared a couple blocks, and there it was, Unholy Grounds, just as we’d left it the night before. I almost did a double take, seeing how near it actually was to Max’s apartment.
It made me oddly happy, knowing that Max was so physically close to his buddies, and so emotionally close, too. He’d visit them for coffee, clearly, but also for drinks, and for arcane intel, too. And wasn’t it nice to have a place where everybody knew your name?
“Witch Boy!” came the greeting as I ambled in, both Johnny and Roscoe looking pleased to see me. I scratched the back of my neck, smiling. I could get used to this.
“Just stopping by for some coffee. Two of them, actually. One for me, and one for Max.”
“Ooh. Did you spend the night?” Johnny Slivers leaned over his counter, his chin cradled in his hands. “Tell me everything.”
Roscoe laughed. I rubbed the front of my arm and chuckled.
“There’s nothing to tell, honest! I think Max and I — well, we’re taking it slow. Not that we discussed it, but that seems to be what’s happening at the moment.”
Roscoe wiped down the equipment, getting everything ready for Johnny to work his magic. “Nothing wrong with that. We think Maxy really likes you.”
“Lies,” Johnny said, dodging a cloud of steam. “We know Maxy likes you.”
I glanced at the ground, at the counter, trying not to show how thrilled I was to hear all this. I fished around inside my pocket for my wallet, but Johnny cleared his throat loudly.
“Don’t worry about it. Max sent you on an errand when he could have picked up his coffee himself. I’ll put it on his tab.”
“You guys are the best,” I said, eagerly accepting the two coffees. “And I’m sure Max is like this with everyone he — you know, with everyone he likes.”
Roscoe rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? We haven’t seen him bring anyone around the way he does with you, like he’s trying to show you off or something. When Max likes something, he’s not very good at hiding it. With you he’s obviously investing plenty of his time. With us, with the bar? It was just straight-up investing.”
My eyebrow went up. “Sorry. He invested in Unholy Grounds?”
Johnny nodded. “He more or lessmadeUnholy Grounds. I’ll always be grateful for the seed capital. The renovation alone, good gravy.”
I had no idea how much it cost to set up a café in a busy, no doubt expensive place like Dos Lunas, and so close to high-end residential space, too. I could, however, guess that it involved a hell of a lot of money.
“Wow,” I said, pasting on a bright, naive smile. “Max must do really well for himself as a finder if he can just sink so much cash into your business like that. He’s a good friend.”
“Hah! Max? Our Max? Maxy Millions?” Johnny laughed. “The boy is independently wealthy. Or he was, at least. Doubt he’ll ever want for anything.”
I stared at both of them blankly, confused, and truthfully, feeling a bit betrayed.
“Wait,” Roscoe said, dropping his towel on the counter. “I thought you knew for sure. I thought you’d know by now. You really are new in town, aren’t you?”
