Page 42 of An Espresso Machine’s Guide to Love & Mischief

He’s just bullshitting me to keep me quiet. If there was any way to escape this espresso machine, I would have found it by now. Or Neph would have—since one of her guys is stuck in a freaking penis.

Unless Steroids Man means moving on to the afterlife. That is an option, if I can figure out my unfinished business, and believe me, I’ve tried.

“I’m going to help you,” he lies—stupid, muscular kidnapper, “just don’t draw any more attention to us.”

As if I could. Humans only see an espresso machine, not a woman in danger. They don’t realize they need to help me. Maybe if I keep shouting, I’ll attract the attention of a shifter or witch. I’m not sure a single raccoon can save me even if he tried, but maybe if he had help?

“I’m a possessed espresso machine being kidnapped! Help me! Call the… umm… supernatural police? Do you have that here?”

“Urgh, I wish you had a mouth so I could gag you,” Steroids Man groans.

“I wish I had legs so I could kick you in the nuts.” The sexy nuts in those tight… never mind. “I would kick your nuts into your fucking torso.”

He heaves a sigh. “Look, I know it’s stressful being trapped in an object but…” He trails off as he drops me into a homeless woman’s cart.

“What are you doing? This is my stuff!” She tries to shoo him off.

“Hey!” I cry in protest. At least until I realize he’s ditching me.

I’m not being kidnapped anymore. I’m free!

The homeless woman runs a hand through her long, matted hair. It reminds me of that witch in the Peruvian mountains who told me I’d win American Idol. I didn’t get past the auditions, but I had fun and made some friends, which was definitely a win.

“I’ll give you the address to my hotel,” I tell her. “If you take me there, my friend Neph has a bunch of cash.”

The woman doesn’t reply.

Steroids Man stares at me with wide, confused eyes. He glances around and blinks several times. The look on his face kind of reminds me of that old lady in the subway.

“Get away from my cart,” the homeless woman tells him.

I try to ignore the fact that her voice makes my insides flutter like that time a fly got into my casing. That was an uncomfortable ten minutes until Neph finally got it out. But this is both uncomfortable—and not. I feel drawn to her, I just don’t want to be.

My circuitry is definitely messed up. I was attracted to that clown, then Steroids Man, now her? Not to mention Fletcher—who’s hot, I’ll give him that—a subway rat, the raccoon currently hiding behind a tree trunk, and the gorgeous skunk shifter who may or may not be dead. I need to get back and make sure he is okay.

Steroids Man frowns, turns around, and walks away. Finally!

“Haha! Good riddance, you ass!” I shout after him. Speaking of… the way his short-shorts dig into his butt crack makes me internally cringe. Who wears clothes like that? Gross! Plus, his ass is all flat.

It’s such a relief to be over my random horniness for his ass.

The homeless woman pushes her cart down the street, taking me with her. “Urgh, what is with my clothes?” she says. “What brand is this?”

I guess even homeless people must worry about clothing brands. I know fashion! That gives me a chance to win her over. “If you take me back to my hotel, I’ll buy you a Chanel suit,” I tell her.

The Homeless Fashionista shakes her head. “You’re coming with me.”

Chapter 20

Diva

Shit. Is the homeless woman kidnapping me now, too? I twist my knobs in agitation. “What is it with Torontonians and espresso machines? Don’t they have any good to-go coffee here?”

“Better than wherever you’re from. But never mind about all that,” she says. “We have a plan.”

“We?” There’s no one else here except me. Well, and the raccoon who’s still tailing us—not that she knows that. And she and I definitely didn’t come up with a plan—yet!

“Just be quiet for a while,” she says. “We’re almost there. Our place is nicer than anywhere you’ve been. Trust me.”