could hear Lisa and Frank chattering in the kitchen.
“I can’t believe you guys don’t have an espresso machine,” Frank said. “I’m bringing mine when I come to babysit.”
“Come here, you.” Lisa laughed, and they both were suddenly quiet. My mom always says you can tell a happy house by how it sounds in the morning.
“You’re awake.” Nora came out of the bathroom, still wearing her piranha pajamas. They cracked me up. She sat at the end of the bed and crossed her legs, and her hair fell over her shoulders.
“Good morning,” I said. So polite. So friendly-like. I wanted to grab her and throw her under me. I wanted to devour those lips and finish what we started last night. I wanted to be inside her so bad I felt like I was going to explode.
“Thank you for staying last night.” She seemed so cheerful, as if it nothing had happened.
“Not a problem.” Thank God I had the blanket for cover. I sat up to adjust my extremely uncomfortable position and propped one pillow behind me and put one over my lap. “You seem to be feeling better.”
“You were great,” she said. If she was aware of my discomfort, she didn’t let on. “Really. You have the magic touch.”
“Right,” I said. It would be easier to think about getting away from her if she wasn’t so close. She was great. “I’ll need some magic for Brad later, I suppose.”
“Poor Brad.” She sighed. “Lisa loves Frank. If she had any sense, she’d love Brad. But she doesn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong. Frank’s a sweetie pie. He’d die for Lisa. But he’s the only real boyfriend she’s ever had, and she doesn’t realize…”
“What?”
“She doesn’t realize how smart and creative she is. How much more she could be with the right guy. She’s going to be happy. She’ll never doubt her choice. Her life with Frank will be like having a fresh bouquet of roses every day. On the other hand, her life with Brad would be like living in the Butchart Gardens.”
“Maybe you’re projecting,” I said. “You’re afraid you’ll settle for a bouquet when you really want a garden.”
“I have a garden.”
What did she mean? That she was complete? She didn’t need anyone? She didn’t need me? I should have felt relieved, but I wasn’t happy about it.
She stared at me, her brows knit together in a frown. I had no clue what she was thinking, but she sure looked cute thinking it. “So what does J.D. stand for?” she said. “Juris Doctor? Just Desserts?”
“I’ll never tell,” I said. “To know a person’s name is to have ultimate power over him.”
“Ah, like Rumpelstiltskin.” Her eyes lit up. “I’ll have to guess.”
I’m not religious or mystical, but I appreciate the trope in fantasy novels—and in the bible, if people bothered to read it—about the power of naming. I’d never admit it, but I don’t give out my real name because I’m superstitious.
“You never will,” I said. “I’ll even give you a clue. The clue is my last name.”
Shit. Why did I say that? She didn’t know my last name, and now I was going to just give it to her?
“Your last name. Okay. What is it?”
“Reider.” Dammit, dammit, fuck.
“J.D. Reider. Rider...rider…J.” A smile spread over her face.
“No. Fucking. Way.”
“Your first name is Jaxom,” she said. “It’s obvious.”
“To you and my mother.”
“But the second name is harder. Dragon? Dracoris? Draco?” It could be anything dragonish.”
“It’s Draco.” I surrendered. “But you’ve got to believe I wasn’t named for Draco Malfoy.”
“Of course not,” she said. “You were born long before Harry Potter was written.”
She was an enchantress. How did she do that?
“Jaxom, the dragonrider.” Her eyes gleamed in triumph.
“What can I say? My mother loves the Anne McCaffrey books,” I said. “She’s an artist, and she never does anything the normal way if she can help it. Do you like me better
“I can’t believe you guys don’t have an espresso machine,” Frank said. “I’m bringing mine when I come to babysit.”
“Come here, you.” Lisa laughed, and they both were suddenly quiet. My mom always says you can tell a happy house by how it sounds in the morning.
“You’re awake.” Nora came out of the bathroom, still wearing her piranha pajamas. They cracked me up. She sat at the end of the bed and crossed her legs, and her hair fell over her shoulders.
“Good morning,” I said. So polite. So friendly-like. I wanted to grab her and throw her under me. I wanted to devour those lips and finish what we started last night. I wanted to be inside her so bad I felt like I was going to explode.
“Thank you for staying last night.” She seemed so cheerful, as if it nothing had happened.
“Not a problem.” Thank God I had the blanket for cover. I sat up to adjust my extremely uncomfortable position and propped one pillow behind me and put one over my lap. “You seem to be feeling better.”
“You were great,” she said. If she was aware of my discomfort, she didn’t let on. “Really. You have the magic touch.”
“Right,” I said. It would be easier to think about getting away from her if she wasn’t so close. She was great. “I’ll need some magic for Brad later, I suppose.”
“Poor Brad.” She sighed. “Lisa loves Frank. If she had any sense, she’d love Brad. But she doesn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong. Frank’s a sweetie pie. He’d die for Lisa. But he’s the only real boyfriend she’s ever had, and she doesn’t realize…”
“What?”
“She doesn’t realize how smart and creative she is. How much more she could be with the right guy. She’s going to be happy. She’ll never doubt her choice. Her life with Frank will be like having a fresh bouquet of roses every day. On the other hand, her life with Brad would be like living in the Butchart Gardens.”
“Maybe you’re projecting,” I said. “You’re afraid you’ll settle for a bouquet when you really want a garden.”
“I have a garden.”
What did she mean? That she was complete? She didn’t need anyone? She didn’t need me? I should have felt relieved, but I wasn’t happy about it.
She stared at me, her brows knit together in a frown. I had no clue what she was thinking, but she sure looked cute thinking it. “So what does J.D. stand for?” she said. “Juris Doctor? Just Desserts?”
“I’ll never tell,” I said. “To know a person’s name is to have ultimate power over him.”
“Ah, like Rumpelstiltskin.” Her eyes lit up. “I’ll have to guess.”
I’m not religious or mystical, but I appreciate the trope in fantasy novels—and in the bible, if people bothered to read it—about the power of naming. I’d never admit it, but I don’t give out my real name because I’m superstitious.
“You never will,” I said. “I’ll even give you a clue. The clue is my last name.”
Shit. Why did I say that? She didn’t know my last name, and now I was going to just give it to her?
“Your last name. Okay. What is it?”
“Reider.” Dammit, dammit, fuck.
“J.D. Reider. Rider...rider…J.” A smile spread over her face.
“No. Fucking. Way.”
“Your first name is Jaxom,” she said. “It’s obvious.”
“To you and my mother.”
“But the second name is harder. Dragon? Dracoris? Draco?” It could be anything dragonish.”
“It’s Draco.” I surrendered. “But you’ve got to believe I wasn’t named for Draco Malfoy.”
“Of course not,” she said. “You were born long before Harry Potter was written.”
She was an enchantress. How did she do that?
“Jaxom, the dragonrider.” Her eyes gleamed in triumph.
“What can I say? My mother loves the Anne McCaffrey books,” I said. “She’s an artist, and she never does anything the normal way if she can help it. Do you like me better
Similar Books
