We pass by this huge marketplace, bustling with Angelenos enjoying the savory food they have to offer. Every few feet, there’s something different.
The smell alone almost makes me stop in my tracks.
It’s a wall of scents—grilled carne asada leads with its smoky, rich aroma, followed by the sharp, pungent tang of vinegar from pickled items. Hot oil infuses the air as batter fries into golden, crunchy pieces, while somewhere deeper within the maze of stalls, warm, yeasty bread emits a sweet aroma, reminiscent of fresh from the oven.
Egg slut? Okayyyy, that’s different.
I shake my head, not listening to my stomach, and look down at the beautiful woman beside me.
Amelia’s in her element.
Black and white checkered crop top that slouches off her shoulder, black leggings, and combat boots that thud against the concrete with every step she takes. Her long, black hair is up in a skull claw clip today, with small pieces framing her petite face.
She’s quiet as she walks beside me, scrolling aimlessly through her appointment schedule on her phone. Rex, the gremlin, is nestled in a sling across her chest. Every so often, she glances up, sharp green eyes sweeping the sidewalk, watching traffic, and people.
“ZOMBIES ARE COMING!”
A man hurriedly runs past on the sidewalk, flailing his arms like a lunatic.
I jump like a little bitch.
Amelia doesn’t even blink as she scoffs and keeps walking.
I clear my throat. “That was, uh, aggressive.”
“Welcome to LA.”
I don’t know what makes me do it, maybe it’s the way this city makes me feel like a fucking fish out of water, but I reach for her hand, gently.
I thread my fingers between hers and hold, catching sight of the engagement ring Maggie picked out, sparkling in the sunlight.
She looks down at our hands like I just lit myself on fire.
She didn’t mind holding my hand the other day…
“For image, dollface,” I say with a smirk. “You held my hand last time.”
She looks up at me with a scowl that only makes my blood run hotter.
Her black claws press into the back of my hand with full malice, a perfect manicured threat.
Pain blooms, and I slightly flinch.
She doesn’t let go as she stomps beside me, looking cute as fuck, angry with Rex slung across her chest.
I laugh.
“I like pain, baby.”
She rolls her eyes and keeps walking, her hand still in mine, like she’s doing it to prove she can hurt me with elegance.
And maybe she can.
She hasn’t lookedat me once since we got here.
I’m sitting on a worn black couch by the front, scrolling through my phone and half-watching her. Rex is curled up at the furthest end of the sofa in one of his sillyhoodies with tiny green dinosaur spikes stitched down the back. He flicks his tail as he glares at me with his beady little eyes.
Scrolling aimlessly on my phone, I glance up to see a quirky woman with pink hair staring at me. As soon as we lock eyes, she starts talking quickly.
