“Yeah.” Iggy nodded to a vase on the counter filled with one of the gas station bouquets I’d seen on my way to the suit fitting this morning. “Hey, yeah! I noticeyoudidn’t bring me flowers.”
“I bought you pizza,” I defended. “Which you like better than flowers.”
“You know you’re stuck with the lie now, right?” the man in black interrupted. “Also, hi, I’m Dante, since Iggy clearly isn’t going to introduce us.”
“Harvey,” I said, offering my hand.
Dante gripped it firmly, looking me over again. “I guess you’re kinda cute,” he said grudgingly.
“Uh. Thank you?”
“Don’t worry, if you really are a Taurus I’m not interested,” Dante said.
I instinctively looked for Seth to… back me up, or maybe protect me, or something, but found him gone from my side and already in the corner cooing over Theo, who was lapping it up.
“Can I get you a coffee?” Iggy asked. “How’d the suit fitting go?”
“You can stop straining your wrist,” I said. “What happened to the splint?”
Iggy bit his lip. “It was in the way. I don’t need it.”
“You really should take a break though,” Dante said. “I’ll bring coffee over. How do you take yours?”
“Uh. A latte with whatever non-dairy milk you’ve got?”
“Make him a dirty caramel chai with the coconut milk,” Iggy said, grinning.
I raised an eyebrow. That was a long way from a latte.
“Trust me,” Iggy said. “You’re cold, you need it.”
I had to admit I was a little chilly. Iggy must’ve noticed when I’d kissed his forehead.
“I’ll trust you if you’ll sit down,” I said. “Deal?”
Iggy looked between me and the espresso machine, and then sighed. “Fine.Fine. I’ll take a break.”
I let him lead the way over to a secluded booth in the corner that was partially blocked from view by a strategically-placed pot plant and slid in opposite him, taking the opportunity to get a good look at his face.
“See anything interesting?” Iggy asked, tucking himself into the corner of the booth like he had when we were little.
“You’ve always been interesting, Ig,” I said. “Just wondering if you really need to be at work today. Your boss can’t bethatmuch of an asshole. I could talk to him if you want.”
Iggy raised an eyebrow. “You are talking to him,” he said. “I own this place.”
I blinked at him, and then sat back to look around properly this time. Exposed brick walls. Plants everywhere. Comfy, mismatched furniture that all somehow went together. Velvet and leather and canvas, mixed with wood and stone and glass.
It reminded me of the contents of Iggy’s pockets after we’d been beachcombing. If I looked hard enough, I was willing to bet I’d find another collection of interesting rocks somewhere.
“Wow,” I said after a moment. “And you named itGrinding?”
“It’s sexy,” Iggy said, grinning. “Like me.”
“I can’t respond to that without getting myself in trouble,” I said.
Secretly, though, I agreed. This was a sexy space, and Iggy was…
Even with his hand bandaged, his face drawn and tired, and the bandaid on his temple, he was pushing a whole lot of buttons for me.
