Bliss thought he might not have any money, so she was prepared to pay with her credit card, but the idea of his treating her to breakfast held a certain appeal. It might make up for the frustrating company.
She leaned back. “You can pay, if you want to.”
“Okay.” He retrieved a wallet from his back pocket. “What do you use for currency here?” Opening his wallet revealed money in all sizes and colors.
“Uh… forget it. I’ll pay with plastic.”
“I was just kidding. I know how the dollar works.” He plunked down enough American cash to cover the tab and a generous tip. “Let’s get you home.”
“Please. At least there I can hide in my room while you watch TV or something.”
“Awww… am I not good company?”
Bite your tongue, Bliss… If he can transport you through walls, he could probably drop you off in the middle of a bridge abutment.
***
Bliss talked Vulcan into dropping her off at home and then going on his merry way. She said she’d use Drake’s code word and yell, “Taxi,” if she needed him.
Wondering where Angie was, she strolled to her bedroom. Maybe she could find a good book and spend her day wrapped up in someone else’s problems for a change. Her door was partially open. That’s weird. I usually close it.
Upon walking in, she spotted Angie reading her journal.
“What the hell?”
Angie dropped the pad of paper and her face flushed. “I—um… I’m sorry. I just came in to see if you had any laundry I might put in with mine.”
“And you just happened to find my diary and decided to read it?”
“I thought it might be a grocery list. I’m going shopping afterward.”
Bliss couldn’t tell if Angie was being sincere or not. How long had she been reading? If she’d followed her nutty thoughts about Drake being a dragon… Oh, shit. How do I explain that?
“I’m really sorry, but who has a diary with no cover? It’s just a pad of paper.”
“That’s because it’s not a regular diary. It’s just a bunch of crazy thoughts that go through my head. Sometimes I get ideas for cards and I need to jot them down.”
Angie worried her lip. “Those were thoughts for a card?”
Think fast, Bliss. Try to remember what you wrote. Oh shit. I started with “dear damn diary.” “Or not. Sometimes I write down weird dreams first thing in the morning so I don’t forget them. We all have weird dreams, right?”
“I guess…” Angie pointed to the floor where the damning evidence lay. “But this is so detailed. That must have one helluva dream.”
“It was.”
“I thought dreams only lasted a few seconds.”
Damn it, Angie. Can’t you just drop it? “I have a very creative mind.”
Angie stared at the pad of paper. “I’ll say…”
Bliss moved toward her roommate, intent on guiding her out of the room. “Look, why don’t you—” As she reached for Angie, the frightened girl’s eyes widened. She flinched and took a step back.
“What’s the matter? I was just going to say that if you’ll wait in the living room, I’ll get whatever laundry I have together.”
“Oh. Sure.” Angie scooted around her and practically fled from Bliss’s room.
Crap, crap, crap. She picked up her “damn diary” and scanned the contents.
A dragon? Seriously? A dragon. I think I’ve finally met a guy who might be worth a shot and he turns out to be some kind of circus freak.
I’d never have believed him if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Transform? Yeah, right… Then he did it! Ack!
Okay. That could have been a dream… and then she read on.
I keep waiting to wake up and find out this is just a crazy nightmare. Nope. I’ve pinched myself and then slapped myself for pinching myself. Still not popping out of any coma.
I’ve even wondered if I was drugged. Drake never slipped me any pills. He didn’t even bring me a beer. Nope. Nothing went into my mouth except, well… him. Heh-heh.
Hey, I wonder if dragon penis can cause hallucinations? Naw. That doesn’t make sense. Because if it does, that means he’s a dragon and I didn’t hallucinate anything but the truth.
She dropped the pad on the bed. “I am so fucked.”
Now what? Should I yell “taxi” and traumatize my roommate further if an ugly old dude appears out of nowhere? Bliss dismissed that idea quickly. What could he do anyway? She needed a time machine to help her go back to the moment she set her diary on her nightstand. Better yet, to the time before she’d written down all the stuff she’d promised not to tell anyone—ever.