Page 55 of Inked in Bloom
His focus stays glued on the batter he’s mixing up. “What would you like today?”
I glance at Cherri who mouths “the usual.”
“Two s’more crêpes. One with extra marshmallows.”
“Coming right up,” he replies, pouring the batter onto the circular griddle.
“How was the rest of your night?” I press up onto the balls of my feet. “I needed some fresh air, but when I got back, I didn’t see you anywhere.”
“Oh, yeah.” He barely glances at me before rifling through the fillings. “It was good. Sorry about that. My friends wanted to bounce, so I had to go.”
Seems odd considering I was standing outside and never saw him leave. Cherri and I shoot each other confused glances, but Tom keeps his attention strictly on the crêpes. “Here you go.”
He only meets my gaze as he hands me my order.
“Thanks.” I give him my bestfuck-meeyes. “Maybe we can meet up again sometime?”
“Yeah…” His attention lingers on my lips, then he goes back to cleaning off the griddle. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
He waves up the next customers, and Cherri and I side-eye each other until we are out of earshot.
She glances back at the cart. “Well, that was weird.”
“Agreed.”
Tom looked like he wanted to devour me last night, and I’d have happily let him. Maybe he found someone else.Maybe I took too long being distracted by stupid Briar and his stupid Corrigan.
Cherri’s delicate hand grips my shoulder. “Monroe.”
“What?”
“What if Tom is your mate?” Her eyes are wide. “What if he’s avoiding you because he figured out you’re mates and realizes you’ve rejected him?”
“That’s a great point… Possibly.” It’s not fair to lie to her, but I can’t exactly tell her who my mate is. Cherri is far too excited by the prospect of a mate and apparently has a thing for professors. If she wants to believe Tom is my mate, it beats the alternative of her learning the truth.
Her face falls. For a second, I wonder if she can tell I’m not being honest with her.
“Does that mean we can’t get any more crêpes until your mate situation is figured out?” she asks, grimacing at the one clutched in her hand.
“Definitely not.” I bite into mine and continue talking through a delicious mouthful of flaky crêpe, smooth chocolate hazelnut, and gooey marshmallow. “These are too good to give up.”
“Truth.” She sniffs hers and takes a bite. “Though having a mate who makes you breakfast like this every day”—little flakes fall from her chin between mouthfuls—“doesn’t seem too bad.”
“You know what? You’re right.” I hold up my crêpe to her. “I should go back, let him bend me over that cart, and invite him to the claiming ceremony in a few months to make it official. Our breakfast needs are worth it.”
“Yes, they are.” She lifts her crêpe, cheersing mine before we continue demolishing them en route to theConservatory.
I keep tryingto push the image of Corrigan with her sharp claws gripping Briar’s shirt from my mind, but as I stare at the oleanders blossoming from my pot during Botany, it’s proving impossible.
Why do I even care? She can be as possessive of him as she’d like. Sir Thumps-A-Lot ruined my life. I don’t want him.
“Where did that come from?”
I pull my hand back from pruning an overly floppy leaf and turn to Cherri. “No clue. Wish I could figure it out so it would be more consistent.” I’m not sure why my magic has been more stable since last night, but I’m not complaining. “I even managed to dress myself today.”
“Color me impressed.” Cherri primps the white and purple hydrangeas in her planter. “Roxy will be thrilled she doesn’t have to scrounge up more curtains.”
Warmth creeps across my cheeks. “Thanks.”
