“There’s a fine line between love and hate.”
“She’s the most difficult woman I’ve ever known.”
“You’re sexually frustrated. You just need to fuck and get it out of your system and then you can both move on.”
“Kind of difficult when the person you want to fuck doesn’t wanna play.”
“I played hard to get with Russell.” He chuckles to himself as if remembering something.
“What happened?”
“One day he just forced my hand. Took control, and bent me over like a pretzel.” He chuckles again.
“All right, too much information.”
“You asked for it. See what tonight brings. A Midsummer Night’s Dream is the perfect setting for lurve.”
“All right, cosmic warrior. I’ll give it my best shot.”
“That’s the spirit. What have you got to lose?”
I shrug my shoulder. “Only my pride, my dignity.”
“Your frustration.” He raises an eyebrow while holding the cup out for me to examine. “It’s all in the tea leaves.”
I swallow the hope blooming in my throat. Julian’s always reading people’s fortune, but I don’t believe in any of that crap. Though Betty always said he had a gift, I thought she was just humouring him. The gift of the gab is what he has, but he has predicted a few things over the years.
Of course, it could just be coincidence, but today, I cling on to the hope that he’s right about one thing. Could she love me?
CAMI
Gray holds the door open with one hand, the other stuffed in his jeans pocket. The white shirt fits snug around his chest, showing the contour of his muscular frame. He’s made an effort tonight.
“You might want a cardigan. It gets nippy at night.”
I wipe my brow. The AC upstairs isn’t as efficient as it is in the tearoom. “Are you joking? I welcome a breeze or any kind of cool air in this hellhole. How do you people live here in this heat?”
He chuckles. “It’s only April.”
I glare at him as if he controls the weather. “You’re enjoying watching me suffer, aren’t you?”
“I enjoy watching you shed your clothes. Soon you’ll be walking around in a bikini.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t packed one.” I fake smile and step out of the apartment, ignoring his warning about a cardigan. Outside, the breeze blows my blonde hair, cooling my body, flapping my cotton dress around my thighs.
“You packed everything else.” He huffs, locking the door. “Your suitcase weighed a tonne.”
“Where are we going, anyway?” My kitten heels clink against the pavement as we both walk down the street.
“It’s not far. The Candy Cane Key Playhouse.”
“What’s Glory doing there again?”
“She’s designed the theatre sets for her class. The university is putting on a performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“Oh. Shakespeare.”
“I thought you’d like that.” Gray smiles and stuffs his hands in his pockets. I want to link my arm through his just to steady myself in my small heels, but it seems too much like what a couple would do. Locals would get the wrong idea about us.
