Page 59 of An Espresso Machine’s Guide to Love & Mischief

Shit. I don’t want McKay leaving me for Trevor to find and shut off. And I’m not actually a body hopper, so her technique or whatnot probably won’t work. But what if it does? What if, with enough practice, I can finally be free?

I twist my nozzles. The only freedom I need is to get out of this place and back to Neph. Once I prove that Milan is an impostor and get the Del Ray fortune back, I’ll get a freaking jet pack. Scratch that, I’ll get an army of bodyguards and a jetpack. If it means humoring McKay and pretending to practice her ‘technique,’ then so be it.

I try to sound as excited as I can and say, “Walk me through the technique!”

She sticks her hand into her hoodie pocket, and a wooden stick tumbles out and clatters onto the floor. She lunges for it and quickly jams it back into her pocket.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Drumstick,” she says.

“Like hell it is. I dated a drummer while he was on tour. We used the sticks for… never mind.”

“It’s a new type,” she says and sticks it back into her pocket. “Now, are you ready to practice body hopping?”

Chapter 28

Diva

I spin my knobs counter-clockwise and count until I start to relax. Then, I picture my spirit—a shiny, gorgeous, sexy as hell espresso machine—slowly floating upwards.

Part of me knows this is never going to work. I meditated with monks in Tibet and never stole someone’s body while doing it. Plus, I’m not a body hopper. But I need to buy time until my raccoon gets here, so I play along.

I feel weightless and at peace as I imagine my spirit floating through the air towards McKay and entering her body. I close my eyes and become one with her. My nozzles settle into her arms, my knobs meld into her eyes, and my water reservoir drops into her stomach.

“What the fuck?” McKay shouts.

I feel my mouth moving with every word, but I don’t have a mouth. What the hell?

“This has never happened before,” my mouth says. “No one ever leaves their object!”

I freeze. What’s going on?

I blink—which I hadn’t been able to do in a long time. Did the espresso machine just grow eyeballs like the time Neph’s friend Julian tried to free me and only gave me random, useless body parts? It was quite horrifying.

But as I blink with actual working eyes, I find I’m staring at a shiny red espresso machine. A damn hot espresso machine, if I do say so myself. It’s just an object now, like it was before my ghost became trapped in it.

“I’ll find someone you can hop into instead,” McKay says. “Just… let me take over.”

My body starts moving of its own accord toward the kitchen door. I feel my legs taking step after step. My muscles work, and the tingle of blood in my limbs is pure ecstasy. Literally like taking ecstasy. Which reminds me of Molly, the receptionist from Del Ray. Which makes me think of Fletcher. I miss Fletcher.

“Why am I getting turned on?” McKay demands.

“None of your business,” I tell her. Wow, I can talk! With an actual mouth!

But I can’t control my limbs, and she’s taking me—us, I guess—toward the other kidnappers.

Like hell she is! I tense all my muscles to force myself to come to a stop. “You’re not alerting Trevor or the other kidnappers. I’m not letting them put me in the espresso machine and turn me off again!”

“They’re not going to do that,” McKay says. “I need my body back.”

“I need it, too.”

“Get out!” McKay screams. My hand launches up, of its own accord, and slaps me across the face.

“Hey!” I cry, my eyes growing wide. “I have a hand. And a face! Also, owww!”

“You don’t have those. I do!” McKay snaps. “And I want them back.”