And even then, he swerved back and forth between treating me like I’m the air he needs to breathe and treating me like I’m justone of his escorts “servicing” him.
The f****d-up part is how much I enjoyed it.
Yeah. Confusing doesn’t even begin to cover it.
I’m buried deep in my thoughts while they order at the drive-thru. I only come back to reality in time to request a latte and old-fashioned. Demyen mutters, “Are you sure you don’t want something thick and creamy?”
To which I respond coolly, “Yeah. I’ll get that at home.”
The way he suddenly freezes makes my whole morning.
I make sure to request extra napkins. My maternal anxiety is in full swing and I turn in my seat to arrange several spreadnapkins over Willow’s lap. “Try not to get sprinkles everywhere,” I
