Page 13 of Downfall

She turns and gifts me with a smile that lights up her entire face.

“Hey. So… I go to brunch at my friend’s restaurant on Sundays. I thought you might like to join me?” She sounds hopeful as one of her eyebrows raises with her questions, and it’s adorable.

“Yeah, that sounds great. I need a shower, too, after last night, but if you want to get out of here anytime soon, I should probably wait until you’re done.”

She smiles at me again, not bothering to turn off the water as she slips out of the shower and grabs a towel to wrap around herself. She walks to the vanity, preparing to put on her makeup, and I have to force myself to get into the shower instead of planting kisses down her neck, across her back.

Using her body wash, I soap myself quickly, catching her watching me out of the corner of her eye.

“Stop looking at me like that or we’ll never make it to brunch.”

Her attention snaps to her reflection in the mirror, her teeth going to work on the inside of her lip as she applies eyeliner, and I smirk at her instant response to my words.

Turning off the shower, I grab a towel to dry off. Good thing I grabbed some things at my place yesterday, so I don’t have to meet her friend in dirty clothes. After dressing in the bedroom, I wander back into the bathroom to brush my teeth and watch Abby finish up her routine, but I need to touch her, feel her warmth.

I cage her in against the vanity, my palms on the marble countertop, and drop my lips to her neck. She sighs and relaxes slightly, but continues lining her lips with a deep burgundy shade. I won’t be able to think about anything but that color ringing the base of my cock for the rest of the day.

Eventually, she finishes her makeup and scoots me away, going into her bedroom to get dressed while I brush my teeth. When she emerges, she’s wearing high-waisted black jeans and a white cropped tank top, and slides her feet into solid black slip-on Vans.

“Where is this restaurant? Can we walk, or should I get an Uber?” I ask, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

“It’s just a few blocks away. About the same distance as the club, but in the opposite direction.”

Abby grabs a small purse from a hook near the door and loops it over her head, pulling her curled hair out from under the strap. Then, grabbing my hand and lacing her fingers through mine, she leads me out the door, locking it and heading toward the elevator.

Her hand in mine surprises me, and I feel her walls breaking down since last night. I’m just not sure I’m ready for her to be ready.

Samsara, the restaurant and bar she takes me to, is a hole-in-the-wall spot with exposed brick walls, only a few small tables, and a long bar along one entire wall. We sit at the end of the dented, wood-top bar, and after a minute, a woman, who is not much taller than Abby, with blonde dreadlocks and black platform boots saunters over, dropping menus on the bar in front of us and a kiss on Abby’s cheek.

“Hey, Max,” she calls to the bartender over our heads, “bring a bloody for Abbs and a—what will you have, honey?” she asks, looking at me expectantly.

“Um, an Irish coffee, please.”

“An Irish coffee for her friend,” she adds, then looking down at us, “I’ll be right back to take your order.”

“That’s your friend, I assume?” I ask Abby, as the blonde walks away to talk to some other customers down the bar.

“Yeah. Viv and I were roommates throughout college. She’s been with me through a lot, and when she bought this place, I helped her get it set up.”

“So you brought me here so she can get a read on me, huh? Alright, let’s do this.” I sit up, straightening my shoulders and lifting my chin, attempting to look confident.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asks, her eyebrows twisting with mirth. “You look constipated.”

I slouch back to a normal, human position as our drinks are delivered by the bartender, who Abby introduces as Viv’s brother, Max. We fall into easy conversation, but we’re both careful not to talk about anything too personal or deep, still attempting to keep up the illusion that this is only for now. But what she said last night, how nervous she was, I know she wants this, too. She brought me to meet her best friend, for fuck’s sake.

When Viv comes back to take our orders, she stands behind our bar stools, her arms across the backs, and gives me a once-over, checking out my tattoos. I check hers out in return, taking in her black lipstick and array of necklaces.

“Viv, this is Kolson. We met the other night outside the club,” she introduces me, keeping her eyes on Viv, trying to gauge her reaction. “He thinks I brought him here for you to get areadon him.” She emphasizes the word ‘read’, and I give her a confused look.

Before I can say anything, though, Viv leans forward and pulls me into a tight hug. Stunned, I let my arms hang and find Abby’s eyes with mine, pleading for help. Abby giggles and Viv releases me. “Sorry, I’m a hugger. Physical touch helps me to feel a person’s energy, and good god, Abby, have you felt this man’s energy?”

Viv grabs my hand next, turning it palm up in hers, and traces the lines there with the fingers of her other hand. She hums low in her throat, looking a bit dazed, then abruptly lets me go, giving Abby a knowing look.

“What can I get you?” she asks suddenly, like nothing strange had just happened.

The rest of brunch goes on without incident. I eat the best eggs benedict I’ve ever had while Abby has French toast made with huge cinnamon rolls.

“So… Viv actually reads people, huh?” I ask, trying not to sound as skeptical as I feel.

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