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A silent moment passed. “We’re looking for somebody. Two of ‘em who stole something.”
The manager of the bar appeared in our eyesight. He could clearly see us, but he didn’t look directly in our direction. He just kept walking toward the street performers. “Nobody in here but me. Because we don’t open for another hour.”
The door to the street opened again. A third voice said, “I think I saw that bitch up the next block.”
Feet stomped as the three of them exited.
Dorian sighed next to me, rolling his head to lean against mine. “I’m really glad I didn’t have to defend myself with a steak knife.”
I held up my hand. “Better than a fork!”
He smiled at me, and I broke.
I pressed my lips against his in a rough kiss. If it caught him off guard he gave no sign; he kissed me back twice as hard, hand caressing the back of my neck and holding me close. I opened my lips for his tongue and pressed my own against it wetly, dancing a dance as vigorous as any from our stage. His mouth tasted like Red Hot candies, and I could have kissed him forever.
Dorian’s other hand slid up my thigh and around my hip, and I grabbed it and put it on my breast because nothing else would do, and he squeezed and pulled me closer and our kiss was full of happiness and excitement and relief.
The bar manager cleared his throat.
“I don’t mind you hiding from those punks,” he said dryly, “but I draw the line at dry-humping.”
We leaped to our feet. “No, you’re right, sorry. Thank you!”
“Uh huh.”
We rushed to the door, embarrassment beginning to grow.
33
Dorian
The three assholes were nowhere in sight as we left the bar. Nadia and I backtracked two blocks and decided it wasn’t worth risking it to retrieve the remainder of our fliers, so we got right on the train back to Brooklyn.
By the time we sat down, an uncomfortable feeling was in the air. The kind that I’d been trying to avoid.
I wasn’t ready. I knew it, despite whatever emotions I felt in the moment with Nadia. Intellectually, I was over Heather, but emotions were always a few horse-lengths behind what a person knew they should feel. It sucked, but it’s just the way it was. And right now I knew that if I tried anything with Nadia, it would probably turn into a rebound relationship.
Growing up, I’d had friends who didn’t know how to be single. As soon as they were out of one relationship, they jumped into the next one as quick as they could because they were terrified of being alone. Having dated Heather for nearly a decade, I’d never had an opportunity to be tested like that. But now I was, and I knew that I didn’t want to rush into the next one.
Especially not with a girl like Nadia.
Holy flaming shit, she felt good.
I didn’t want Nadia to be a rebound. She was more special than that. The full package—fun, smart, and smoking hot. The kind of girl you courted and protected and married. The girl you had waited your whole life to take home to mom and dad.
And I might have just fucked it up.
The silence on the train stretched, and my dread grew with every passing second. We were supposed to just be friends. Simple as can be. Those were boundaries we had set for Nadia, expectations for her to go by. And I’d thrown it away in the heat of a moment right after we had almost gotten the shit kicked out of us.
But she had kissed me back just as hard…
“I can’t believe you were going to defend yourself with a fork,” I said when the silence became unbearable.
“That bad boy had four teeth,” Nadia said defensively. “Not just a three-tooth fork. Four. Those street magicians wouldn’t know what hit them.”
“Is that what they were? Magicians?”
She nodded. “I think so, based on their uniforms and the boxes they had.”
