Page 9 of Ink & Snow
“Is that how you flirt in the city these days?”
Amory’s eyes widened. “Oh, he wasn’t flirting at all! It was just a joke.”
The doctor glanced at me. “Uh-huh.”
I sighed. “I’ll go make some fresh coffee. Amory, Americano for you. Doctor?”
“Black eye, if you know how to make that.”
“I know how to make that,” I told the little prick. It was possible he was a decent guy, but I didn’t trust people who were that buff and looked that good in an Oxford out of principle.
While the doctor bandaged the man I had every intention to fuck, I made coffee, looking at the mess all around me. Sure, most if it was still contained in the moving boxes, but the two townies in my new living room might not be that easily put away. And how the fuck had Amory missed me flirting with him? Did I need to go get a tattoo done by him that read “Wanna fuck?” or something?
While my machine got to optimal brewing temperature, I collected the mugs with the now cold coffee and rinsed them in the sink. I considered finding my to-go cup for the doctor to give him a subtle signal, but in the end didn’t bother.
I handed him his fucking black eye when he’d taken off his gloves. Amory had decided to sit back up at that point and was running his good hand through his hair self-consciously.
“Thanks,” the doctor said.
“No, thank you for coming so quickly. I’m sure you have better things to do than making spontaneous house visits.”
“No, actually. I was just about to close up when you called.”
“Oh, cool. Stay for some cake then. As a thank you,” Amory said.
All right. He was cute. Very cute. He was also a menace who invited strangers to have some of my chocolate cake, never mind that he was good with a mop. I needed to keep both eyes on him, just like on the back fist of a master in drunk boxing.
“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” the doctor said, showing he had some social graces.
Amory wiggled his professionally bandaged thumb. “You’re not a bother. Please.” He then looked at me pleadingly. The fuck?
For reasons outside my understanding, I said, “Yes, please have some cake.”
The weird town cult vibe clearly was already getting to me.
The doctor didn’t talk much. Amory talked plenty. They exchanged stories about Elias, possibly the one I’d heard about before, and about someone called Simeon. The story centered around a competition this crazy-ass town held to award the most outrageously sized gourd.
“…and all the while I was thinking, it’s too bad because I really would have liked some pumpkin gnocchi,” Amory said.
“Really was a shame,” the doctor agreed.
I smiled at Amory. “I believe you inspired me to revive my pumpkin pie recipe. I retired it a while back, but perhaps it’s time.”
“You bake?” Amory said, his gold-crowned eyes widening. He then licked the tines of the fork I’d found in a mess of two broken wine glasses. His pink tongue licking the silver redirected my blood flow south.
“Yeah.” I sounded horny too.
Dr. Ben narrowed his eyes at me and put his plate on my cardboard coffee table. “It’s really late. Amory, should I take you home?”
Fucking sewer creature of the medical profession. Interfering cock blocker.
“I’ll call you an Uber, Amory. Or you can stay a little longer and tell me about your time in Korea. Show me some more of your ink.”
Amory giggled. “An Uber? You think we have Uber here?”
Of course they didn’t. This fucking town.
Dr. Ben fucking smirked. “I’ll drive you over. We don’t want your mom to worry.”
