Page 51 of Damascus & The Wildfire
I ground my teeth. I pressed my palms to the back of my neck and sighed.
“Fuck. I know. She’s not ready, though.”
“You won’t know unless you make a move. Decide and act, before someone else does.”
“Hatchet likes her,” I argued weakly.
Fuse gave a clipped, dismissive laugh. “Hatchet likes anything with a pair of tits. He’ll never settle down. Don’t lose a good woman because you’re too chickenshit to commit.”
I didn’t respond as I got into my truck, ignoring Fuse’s ripple of laughter at my blatant dismissal. But his words rumbled through my mind on my way first to the coffee shop for the icedtea and then to Kenna’s house. I hesitated for a moment outside, worried she’d see this as an overstep. Before I could change my mind, I shot her a text.
Me:
What are you doing? Are you dressed?
Kenna:
Yes? That’s a bizarre question to ask. I’m just watching TV.
Me:
Stay on the couch. I’m coming in.
Kenna:
Wait? What?
I keyed in the front door code and opened the door to see a shocked Kenna covered with a blanket. Brisket let out a deep woof before dancing on his paws before me with a wagging tail.
The chilly room sent goose bumps across my bare arms as I stepped inside. “Jesus, Kenna. You must have the air set at sixty degrees.”
“What are you doing here?”
I handed her the raspberry tea and wiped my damp hand on my jeans. “How’s your migraine?”
“It’s mostly gone. But, again, what are you doing here?”
I strolled to the kitchen counter, pushed aside a stack of dog-eared true crime books, and began to pull containers from the bag. Brisket sniffed the air and let out a low, hopeful whine. “I thought you might want dinner, and I know you want this.” I pulled the cake container from the bag and opened it. The sweet scent of chocolate espresso floated through the room.
Kenna moaned. “Is that the cake? You brought me cake?”
“You couldn’t stop talking about it. And we both know there won’t be a crumb left once it leaves the clubhouse kitchen. I have donuts and cinnamon rolls, too. How are your cramps?”
Kenna cringed, wrinkling her nose. “Eva told you about that?”
I pulled a heating pad, a bottle of Advil, and a bag of lavender Epsom salts from the bag. “A hot bath might help. Or the heating pad. Wanted to make sure you had something for the pain, too. Wasn’t sure if you had everything you needed, since you just moved here.”
“Who are you? What happened to my tough biker friend?”
I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I didn’t want you to miss out on the best part of the party.”
She smirked. “You mean you didn’t think the video was the best part?”
I laughed. “I can’t believe you ended it on me.”
“I can’t help that I’m such a great interviewer that you gave me a golden soundbite.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you want me to start a hot bath for you?”
