CHAPTER 39
Talia sat on the stool at the table at the front window of her favorite coffee shop, her weekend groceries on the floor next to her in two full bags. She stared down at them with a sigh. She’d over done it, spent above her budget all because she was trying to buy time, pun intended. With nothing else to do in the store, she’d come to hide out here, at the coffee shop. Her home, which she was avoiding like the plague, just a few steps away. She was already on her fourth cup of coffee, contemplating her life and the stupid thing she’d done last night. She grumbled and dropped her head on the table in front of her. What the hell had she done? She bemoaned as the thoughts of the night before ran through her mind. She’d gone and done it. The one thing she said she never would, and bloody hell was it good! With a groan, she raised her head off the table and slapped her cheek twice. That wasn’t what she should be thinking about.
You are reprimanding yourself Talia, not taking a trip down hot sex memory lane! How could I let that happen?
That’s why the saying goes ‘never say never’ because the jokester universe was always there to prove you wrong.
Oh Talia! What mess have you gotten yourself into?
She ran her hand through her freshly washed and straightened hair, pulling it out of the bun. Slowly, she redid the style as she stared out the café window. Her hairdresser had been quite surprised to see her a month earlier than their scheduled appointment and at the butt crack of dawn when she opened shop. Talia was lucky she didn’t have any morning appointments, and the look on her face must have said ‘needed a cleanse’, cause Polly didn’t say a word, just ushered her to her chair. Talia had thought getting her hair done, in other words getting the sex sweat out of her hair, would change something, like help her forget the mistake she made and give her new direction. Neither had happened. All she’d done was wash out the sweat and smell from the previous night’s marathon sex and gotten a new hairstyle.
“Whoa,” she thought out loud, as she practiced her pursed lip breathing and waved her hands up and down, back and forth, fanning her overheated face.
For a man whose declarations made it sound like he’d entered into monkhood, he had stamina. Half the time she hadn’t been sure of what was happening, but he just kept going in all these different positions like a man starved. Sometime in the night, when he was fast asleep, she’d actually had to reach for her inhaler from her bedside top drawer. Happens when you don’t breathe right for hours. Her left hand unconsciously reached down to her thigh to make sure it was still in her left pocket. It had been a while since she’d felt the need for the security it provided. Almost two years in fact, she’d been good to keep away from her triggers. Now DeLuca had come and ruined that streak.NôvelDrama.Org © content.
DeLuca…she groaned again, dropping her head on to the table before her. She actually ran away that morning, in case he woke up hungry, and not for food. But the plan wasn’t exactly genius as he was in her apartment, hence there was nowhere else she could hide but her favorite coffee shop right across from her apartment building. Here she was, staring longingly at the building, wishing she could have back the quiet weekend she’d had planned. But she couldn’t even have her thoughts to herself. Just remembering their night together sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. Muscles she didn’t know existed pushed their presence to the front of her mind, the ache in them eager to confirm that, yes, last night had in fact happened. She couldn’t believe how her body had just melted at the slightest touch of his fingers and she became completely submissive. It was infuriating and mesmerizing at the same time, but a weakness and one she was willing to bet her entire life’s savings he was well aware of and had used against her.
Well, no more! she thought, lifting her head off the table with much determination. She needed to get a grip on her body and her senses. She was on the fast track to Heartbreak Land so a decision needed to be made – no, an eviction notice needed to be handed out. That was it. First, she needed a game plan. She couldn’t let him touch her. She would match in there and just tell him to get out. She bit down on the inside of her lower lip. Yeah right. Easier said than done, especially since the man had called dibs on her. She huffed, he was clearly off his rocker.
Speaking of which, what was that last night? Something had happened to him. For a moment, he hadn’t seemed present and she’d been sure he was having an anxiety attack from the way he was breathing. That is, until he came out of his trance and jumped her. That couldn’t be normal and that was what scared her even more, what made her even more determined to make sure nothing else happened between them. She feared she was nothing but a distraction from all his problems. He had said it hadn’t he?
Feeling a little morose, Talia slid off the stool and reached down to grab her bags in each hand. She walked to the door and Nelly, the waitress, held the door open for her.
“Figured it out already?”
“Huh?” Talia stopped at the door and turned to her.
With a jerk of her chin, she pointed to the seat Talia had just vacated, and said, “You did a lot of groaning and moaning there. You clearly had a lot to think about.” She turned her head down and Talia followed to look at what she was staring at.
“And those bags look pretty heavy, and yet, you came straight here instead of going home. Which happens to be right across the street. Your mom here to visit?”
Talia chuckled, looking up and meeting her gaze. Yeah, this had happened a few times, when she felt the need to escape her nagging mother. But this time, she sighed, if only it was that simple.
“Nope. Just… someone else.”
A curious blonde brow went up. “Couldn’t possibly be the owner of that Ferrari parked out front, could it?”
Talia turned to face the red eyesore packed on the street in front of her building. It had attracted some serious attention since cars like these didn’t park overnight in their street. The area was popular to the working class and not the type to drive Ferraris. She’d had to feed the meter when she’d stepped out that morning and found it there, but maybe it would have been better to let it get towed. For some reason, without a shadow of a doubt, she had been sure it belonged to Rafael DeLuca. Could be because she remembered his fan boy Joe salivating as he described all of his toys and the little city they were housed in.
Talia’s face burned when the hidden insinuation in that question finally dawned on her. Was this what the ‘walk of shame’ felt like?