Page 85 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

The treadmill beeped and he slowed it down. Panting hard and catching his breath. He turned it off after a few minutes, stretching his legs and groaning in pain as he righted himself.

He caught me watching when he turned unexpectedly. Sweat dripped down his skin and his face was flushed, and I got a good look at the tattoo on the left side of his chest. An old-fashioned navy anchor with what looked like a rope wrapped around it, a triskelion forming out of the twists and knots of the rope.

He didn’t say anything right away, but he did grab a small hand towel and wipe his face, draping the towel around his neck as he approached the door.

“Aren’t you a sight in the morning,” he said softly, placing a heavy hand on the top of my head as he walked past. “I left you a clean towel in your bathroom. I trust you can find a change of clothes in your closet.”

I showered and found some clothes to wear, choosing one of my old work dresses and a pair of pumps. I didn’t have my hair dryer, so I just rolled my hair up into a twist and pinned it in place. I have to say, for lack of preparation, I looked pretty fancy.

In the dining room, Reuben had set out two plates and two mugs. Mine was solid white with a dragonfly and a flower on it. It looked like a piece of fine porcelain. His was an old mug, a little scratched, and chipped at the top, and had a logo of a zoo with a giraffe on it. I hadn’t expected Reuben to be a fan of giraffes, but I filed that bit of information away for the future.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Not bad,” I mumbled, eyeing the coffee carafe.

He saw me staring at it and gestured for me to take some. “I didn’t expect you to be such a lightweight.”

“I wasn’t drunk!” I poured myself some coffee and dumped some cream and a few spoonfuls of sugar in it to make it palatable.

“No, but you had a hell of a buzz going.”

“Reuben, I’m four-foot eleven and a half, and I drank half a bottle of wine. There aren’t a lot of places for it to go.”

“You like eggs?”

“Not really,” I said. “But if you’re going to make me eat, I’ll at least try.”

“You don’t eat breakfast?”

“I usually feel pretty nasty in the morning.” I took another sip of coffee.

“Maybe that’s because you don’t eat breakfast.”

“Maybe it’s because my stomach is just whack. I’ve always been like that.”

“Well... try for a few bites for me, please.” He set what appeared to be an omelet down in front of me.

It smelled slightly sweet and rich. I took a few bites, and it was delicious. “That is so good. What are these little meaty flecks?” I asked, savoring the flavors. “Is it bacon?”

“Nope.”

“It’s not hamburger. They’re really good. Oh God, please tell me it’s not tofu.”

“I eat real food, not manufactured food. No, it’s not tofu.”

“Okay, so what is it?”

He set his own plate down across from me and poured himself some coffee, drinking it black. “Just eat it and enjoy.”

I set my fork down. “It’s something bad, isn’t it?”

He looked at me with the smallest hint of a smirk. “They’re mushrooms.”

We had ourselves a little stare-off while I tried to decide if I was going to continue to eat the rest of the amazingly delicious mushrooms he’d snuck into my breakfast, or if I was going to sacrifice the meal and be stubborn. The look on his face told me he knew of the internal battle raging in my mind. Right as I decided to announce that I was no longer hungry, my stomach rumbled.

“I’ve gone back to not liking you again,” I muttered as I stabbed a bite of the omelet as angrily as I could.

“Don’t worry, you’ll like me again by this evening.”

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