I took a deep, cleansing breath and approached the kiosk where Bobby was pulling shots behind the espresso machine. His eyes found mine almost immediately, and he said something to one of his coworkers. I hadn’t even made it to the front of the line when he circled around the counter with a drink in hand.
“Medium nonfat latte, right?” He handed me the beverage while studying my face.
“Yeah, thanks.” I smiled at his thoughtfulness, but it felt forced. Bobby was a loose acquaintance, the guy who made my coffee most mornings. I tipped him well because he was friendly and cute and my mother raised me right, but we’d never spoken beyond the weather and the goings on at the school. I didn’t even know his last name.
Your tongue’s been inside his mouth. He’s tasted your blood, watched you orgasm, and afterward, wiped your body clean.
But that was you, Henri, not him. My head hurt from the mental gymnastics.
Bobby eyed me suspiciously. “Don’t feel creeped out by it. We memorize our regulars’ drinks to keep the line moving.”
“Oh, yeah. Right,” I said, feeling stupid.
He gestured to one of the small tables set up in the building’s atrium, and we sat down across from each other. Bobby was careful to keep his distance, making sure that every bit of his body was out of my reach. I should apologize, but really, it wouldn’t be enough. We’d basically stolen him for a day. I didn’t know how to begin to explain or justify it.
“So, I woke up this morning thinking it was Saturday,” Bobby said slowly. There was a slight tremor in his voice. “I didn’t realize it was Sunday until my boss called and asked me why I wasn’t at work.”
I swallowed and said nothing. I wished you were there to give me advice, but you said you’d be busy for the next few days. I wasn’t sure how the soul collecting thing worked, but it seemed almost like a doctor’s schedule where you had to take turns being on-call.
“I can’t remember much from yesterday, Orlando,” Bobby continued, glancing up at me warily. “I only know I was with you and your friends in a place where there was a lot of noise. And it was your birthday.”
Looking into Bobby’s eyes made me feel too guilty, so I stared at the smooth tabletop. I tried to think of a way to make sense of it for him.
“Did you drug me?” he asked. “I mean, I know that sounds crazy because I didn’t even see you yesterday or the day before, but…”
Shit, shit, shit. How the hell was I supposed to explain this?
“I bewitched you,” I said.
Bobby didn’t finish whatever he was going to say. Instead, he glanced around as if there was someone who could confirm or deny it.
“You, like, wiggled your nose and poof, I was your puppet for the day?”
I risked a glance at him. He must have thought I was bullshitting him.
“I cast a spell using your hair,” I lied. I stopped there. I shouldn’t say too much. I’d learned that from you. Only give the information that was necessary.
“Like, a love spell?” Bobby asked in a whisper.
“Yes,” I lied again, thinking that might make it better.
Bobby sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. I remembered squeezing those muscles, how comforted and safe I’d felt inside those arms just yesterday. Now they intimidated me. Maybe Bobby would kick my ass. I deserved it.
“That’s fucked up,” he said at last.
I nodded. I didn’t have to fake my remorse. I was sorry as hell.
“Why didn’t you just ask me out?” he asked, which made me feel doubly guilty because it was a lie within a lie, but I couldn’t back out now. How devastating would it be to learn that I’d allowed my boyfriend to use him? We’d both used him.
“I was afraid you’d say no,” I said instead.
“I might not have.” He sounded like I’d hurt his feelings.
We sat there in silence. I took a sip of my latte because I didn’t want to offend him by not drinking it, and I needed something to occupy my hands.
“Orlando,” he said, and my eyes snapped up to meet his. He looked hurt and scared. Terrified. This wasn’t the same as Derek. Derek fucking deserved it. Bobby was completely innocent. I was a monster.
“I’ve heard some crazy shit about you. One of my coworkers said you talk to yourself, and a few of the dancers say you’re possessed by the devil. I thought they were just weird rumors, but this…” He shook his head. “I mean, what the fuck? How would you even…”
