Page 45 of The HalloQueen

“What was it like when you, Yusuf, and Monique lived together?” I asked, unable to help myself.

He paused, then returned to slicing the berries, “I’d assume it was…normal, I suppose. I didn’t have anything to compare it to.”

“Normal is relative.” I said plainly, sticking my nail into a container holding a string of pearls plant, “What was your role? What was theirs? What did you guys contribute to each other’s lives? What was the dynamic? Were you the housewife or something?”

He paused mid-slice, considering, and then shook his head and continued, “okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely normal.” He grabbed a perfectly plump strawberry and brought it to me, “Open,” he said before quickly popping it in my mouth and I hummed in approval. “Does Judy deserve a good rating?”

I nodded, chewing, “oh yeah, top-notch produce selection.”

He smiled and went to his station, preparing a large mixing bowl with ingredients listed on the tablet in front of him, “The three of us were together so long that a lot of things happened without needing communication. Where one of us was failing, the others, Yusuf more often than not, picked up the slack automatically. We kind of delegated tasks to whoever understood them the fastest because things have changed so much since we turned. I did a lot of the back-end business stuff, as well as maintaining our home, Monique tended to the money and tours, and Yusuf did anything he could to make our lives easier. He was a good male.”

I took a sip from my mug, “and they really just left?”

He shrugged and poured the runny batter into a pan, “Oui, they poofed,” he paused and smirked before continuing, “I think when you’re together so long that you don’tneedto communicate that it evolves into younotcommunicating at all. We coexisted wonderfully, but I had no idea they were unhappy. I would give anything to just have a chance to talk to them and know what happened.”

I moved so I could see his face, “Would you get back with them if they came back?”

He furrowed his brow, considering, “Non. I wouldn’t want to open myself up to the hurt again. I’d just want to talk to them.”

“But you want to open yourself up to me hurting you?”

He flipped the crepe onto a plate and poured another, “I’m higher in the food chain.” he grinned, deflecting, and quickly flipped another crepe out, pouring lemon juice and sugar over them before putting some strawberries on top.

I growled, “errrr I’m bigger than you and I’m higher in the food chain! Roar!” I grabbed the plate from him and suppressed the happy hungry noises trying to escape from me. “We are equals here, Frenchie. You don’t get to pull that shit with me or I’ll cut you off my delicious…aura vibe thing.” I waved my hand over my body, “and my boobs. No aura, no boobies, no nothing. Equals.”

He smiled and came to me, enveloping me in his arms, and kissed my shoulder, “Oui. Equals. Just keep talking to me.”

“Even if I’m bothering you?”

“Especiallyif you’re bothering me. You’re cute when you’re feisty.” I bucked him with my shoulder and he laughed, hugging me closer, “are you still anxious,ma chérie?”

I considered, “No. I’m not.” I took a bite of my crepe and unconsciously wiggled my hips in delight, “this is yummy.”

“Bonne,” he kissed my shoulder again and smiled, “Now where is Tim’s food? He’s touching me and I can only assume that means he’s decided I need to feed him too.”

I giggled and looked behind me, sure enough, Tim was wrapping himself around Thomas’ ankles, purring loudly while strutting in figure eights. “It’s under the sink,” I said with my mouth full, and he went to open it, grabbing a large scoop out of the container and Tim gave a meow of joy.

I watched Thomas squat down, dumping Tim’s kibble into his little bat-shaped bowl and scratching his head, quietly speaking to the animal in French about something. I popped another strawberry in my mouth and wiggled my hips again, “Thank you for breakfast, Thomas.”

He turned, still squatting and scratching Tim, and a piece of his brown hair flopped into his eyes. He smiled and it was as if his face lit up at the sight of me, “anytime,mon coeur. Even if you deny my access to your aura and boobies.”

I grinned, “Especially. The phrase you’re looking for is especially if.”

“Whatever you say,ma chérie.”

18

THOMAS

We spent the day laying on the couch, touching each other and watching an entire season of some glass-blowing show that Annabel was obsessed with. And, despite her constant grumbling, I was able to get multiple meals in her, loving the way that her body wiggled when she thought something tasted good.

It was as if when the good taste reached her stomach her whole body had to dance with joy that it was delicious. She’d make this small closed-lip smile and begin wiggling from her hips all the way up to her head to a beat only she heard, and then she’d hum in delight and then beam at me.

“Have you ever made glass before?” She asked, bouncing her ankle against my thigh and I reached down to rub it.

“Non, it looks hot.”

She arched a brow, “can you even feel heat?”

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