Therapist Barbie perked up.
How interesting
, she whispered. “Why not?”
Very simply, very roughly, he said, “I loved them both.” Putting his attention on his dish, he cleared his throat. “She left me for my younger brother.”
“Oh, this just gets better and better,” Luna said, and it really did feel like her heart sunk—the lump in her chest dropped all the way to her belly. “Your brother.”
He nodded. “Sucks, huh? He’s always been a player, but I trusted him with my wife. Bad idea.”
“No, it wasn’t bad for you to trust them. It was bad for them to betray you.” He did need a revenge fantasy. “Did you know, in some African cultures, the adulterous couple is buried up to their waist in the ground? Then they’re starved, then the tribe”—she paused for effect—“cuts pieces of the lovers off and makes the other one eat it. Like cut her breast, make him eat it. Cut off his dick, make her eat it.” She gave him a bright smile.
That twinkle burst in his dark eyes. “And you look like such a mild-mannered type.”
“Beware what lurks in the hearts of women.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and she figured she’d probably said enough. They ate in silence, their thighs somehow touching again, his arm sometimes brushing hers. In the far-off distance, thunder rolled softly.
“It would be so much easier if they were miserable together, wouldn’t it?” he said.
“Definitely. If they had to make us feel so bad, they could at least have the decency to suffer for it.” There was nothing left of her ice cream, unless she wanted to lick the dish. Wiping her hands with a napkin, she shifted a little toward Thomas, leaning with one elbow on the table. “My daughter was talking tonight abouther stepmother. God, I hated her so much once, it was like a work of art.” She could see it in her mind, something shaped of copper in the heat of rage and pain. “Truth is, though, I just feel sorry for her now. At least I escaped the bastard.”
“Eventually,” Thomas said slowly, “my brother will break Nadine’s heart. He’s just like my father—he’ll leave her. And then,” he added with a sigh, “she’s gonna show up on my doorstep telling me how sorry she is.”
“And what will you do then?”
“I don’t know.” He put a hand on her thigh and she jumped, which made him smile. “Are you afraid of me, Luna?”
She raised her head, daring herself to look right in his face. Nodded. “Not of you exactly,” she said, not reaching for him in return. But they eased closer, millimeters at a time, and the air thickened again. It swirled around her, around him, and they were just looking at each other. His hand didn’t move on her leg.
“I’m kinda scared of you,” he said in that evening-song voice. “Tell me who you are.”
His bare forearm rested on the table in front of her and there was no hair on it at all. It made his skin look smooth and silky, and she wanted to put her hand on it. It seemed bold, and considering what she’d learned here, a long way beyond unwise, but she did it anyway, settling her palm over the angle of elbow, sliding her middle finger into the crook neatly. “What do you want to know?”
Emboldened by her touch, he reached for a measure of her hair, twirled a curl around one finger. “What kind of shampoo do you use?”
She laughed. “Herbal Essence. You?”
“My grandma makes yucca shampoo. It’s goodstuff.” He quirked one eyebrow. “But I usually use whatever’s on special.”
It had been a very long time since Luna had been with anyone. Even longer since she’d been with someone who made her heart race. His hair fell in a curtain, hiding them from the rest of the customers, and she had a sense of his slanted cheekbone, the inky line of his eyelashes, before he bent in and kissed her.
And this time, she met him more easily, knowing it wasn’t wise, but sighing in relief that he’d done it. His lips were hotter than they
How interesting
, she whispered. “Why not?”
Very simply, very roughly, he said, “I loved them both.” Putting his attention on his dish, he cleared his throat. “She left me for my younger brother.”
“Oh, this just gets better and better,” Luna said, and it really did feel like her heart sunk—the lump in her chest dropped all the way to her belly. “Your brother.”
He nodded. “Sucks, huh? He’s always been a player, but I trusted him with my wife. Bad idea.”
“No, it wasn’t bad for you to trust them. It was bad for them to betray you.” He did need a revenge fantasy. “Did you know, in some African cultures, the adulterous couple is buried up to their waist in the ground? Then they’re starved, then the tribe”—she paused for effect—“cuts pieces of the lovers off and makes the other one eat it. Like cut her breast, make him eat it. Cut off his dick, make her eat it.” She gave him a bright smile.
That twinkle burst in his dark eyes. “And you look like such a mild-mannered type.”
“Beware what lurks in the hearts of women.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and she figured she’d probably said enough. They ate in silence, their thighs somehow touching again, his arm sometimes brushing hers. In the far-off distance, thunder rolled softly.
“It would be so much easier if they were miserable together, wouldn’t it?” he said.
“Definitely. If they had to make us feel so bad, they could at least have the decency to suffer for it.” There was nothing left of her ice cream, unless she wanted to lick the dish. Wiping her hands with a napkin, she shifted a little toward Thomas, leaning with one elbow on the table. “My daughter was talking tonight abouther stepmother. God, I hated her so much once, it was like a work of art.” She could see it in her mind, something shaped of copper in the heat of rage and pain. “Truth is, though, I just feel sorry for her now. At least I escaped the bastard.”
“Eventually,” Thomas said slowly, “my brother will break Nadine’s heart. He’s just like my father—he’ll leave her. And then,” he added with a sigh, “she’s gonna show up on my doorstep telling me how sorry she is.”
“And what will you do then?”
“I don’t know.” He put a hand on her thigh and she jumped, which made him smile. “Are you afraid of me, Luna?”
She raised her head, daring herself to look right in his face. Nodded. “Not of you exactly,” she said, not reaching for him in return. But they eased closer, millimeters at a time, and the air thickened again. It swirled around her, around him, and they were just looking at each other. His hand didn’t move on her leg.
“I’m kinda scared of you,” he said in that evening-song voice. “Tell me who you are.”
His bare forearm rested on the table in front of her and there was no hair on it at all. It made his skin look smooth and silky, and she wanted to put her hand on it. It seemed bold, and considering what she’d learned here, a long way beyond unwise, but she did it anyway, settling her palm over the angle of elbow, sliding her middle finger into the crook neatly. “What do you want to know?”
Emboldened by her touch, he reached for a measure of her hair, twirled a curl around one finger. “What kind of shampoo do you use?”
She laughed. “Herbal Essence. You?”
“My grandma makes yucca shampoo. It’s goodstuff.” He quirked one eyebrow. “But I usually use whatever’s on special.”
It had been a very long time since Luna had been with anyone. Even longer since she’d been with someone who made her heart race. His hair fell in a curtain, hiding them from the rest of the customers, and she had a sense of his slanted cheekbone, the inky line of his eyelashes, before he bent in and kissed her.
And this time, she met him more easily, knowing it wasn’t wise, but sighing in relief that he’d done it. His lips were hotter than they
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