"Oh." Feeling self-conscious, I reached up and my fingers tangled with the curls as we hit the stairwell. "I really didn't do anything with it this morning."
That part was true. I'd showered and let it air dry while I shoved my leftover beignets in my mouth.
She laughed. "Then you should do nothing more often. You . . ." Trailing off, she nearly walked into the railing as we headed down the steps.
"Whoa. You okay?" I asked.
Her naturally tanned checks turned red, and she seemed unable to form a word. A moment later I understood why. Coming up the stairs was Jo Ann's future husband.
Except Christian Tran didn't realize that.
I hid my smile as he rounded the landing and looked up. Black baseball cap twisted on backward, a shock of black hair curled out from under the band. His dark eyes were warm and friendly as they landed on Jo Ann.
"Hey," he said.
Jo Ann beeped. That's what her response sounded like, and that was all she was able to do as Christian continued up the stairs. The two of them worked at the halfway home, but on alternate schedules. She didn't know a lot about him. Hell, she didn't even know if he was single or if he even liked the ladies, but she was madly in love with him.
I grabbed her hand, pulling her down the stairs. "You really need to talk to him."
Her eyes were wide again, panicked. "I can't. You just saw that. It happens every time I try to talk to him. I sound like Beaker."
Tossing my head back, I cackled like a cracked out hyena. "Oh my God, you totally did sound like Beaker."
"I know," she lamented. "He probably thinks I can't talk."
"He knows." I wanted to somehow give her better, more useful advice, but I was so out of it when it came to dating that last night was the closest I'd been to a member of the opposite sex.
The moment I thought of Ren, I was simultaneously angry and . . . and I didn't know what else. There wasn't a single word I could use to describe it. My heart did this weird flipping thing, and that made me not want to even think his name.
Exasperated with myself, I missed half of what Jo Ann was saying, and she had to rush to her next class to be on time. As always, she hugged me tight, like we'd known each other since we were in diapers, and I promised to text her over the weekend before we parted ways.
I caught a trolley to the Quarter, and with some time to kill, I made my way to Aunt Sally's Shop to pick up a box of pralines for Tink. Not that he needed more sugar in his little body, but I knew it would make him happy.
Stowing the box in my backpack, I headed down Decatur. It was early Friday evening, and the streets were crazy. Tonight would be off the hook, and the fae would be everywhere. It didn't feel right not hunting tonight, especially since I knew I could do it without hurting myself.
Mama Lousy was pretty busy as I passed by and peeked in. Jerome was behind the counter, looking as grumpy as an old man sitting on the front porch watching kids run across his lawn. He was retired, out of the Order for the last ten years, and he really was a poor choice when it came to working the shop.
Jerome was not a people person.
Grinning, I waved at him from outside.
He scowled in my direction as someone ambled up to the counter, dropping a fake skull on it.
I entered through the side and climbed the stairs. After a couple steps up, I glanced down, and relief coursed through me when I saw that the steps weren't covered with my blood. That would've been gross.
The door at the top opened about ten seconds after I rang the buzzer. Expecting Harris when I stepped through, I bit back a sharp curse when I saw Trent.
One side of his mouth curled up. "Oh, look. It's the crazy bitch."
I arched a brow. "Oh, look. That's so unoriginal." I stepped to the side, planning to walk around him, but he moved to block me. My patience dangled by a rope. "I'm surprised you're still walking today."
Two red spots blossomed on his cheeks. "I'm surprised they still let you in the Order after you spouted that crazy shit."
So many words rose to the tip of my tongue, but my patience was now hanging by a thread, and the last thing I needed to do was knee him in the balls again. So I was going to be the bigger person and walk away. Like an adult. I was going to be so proud of myself if I pulled this off.
I moved to walk around him, but he stepped to the side again, and this time he put his hand on my shoulder. The weight was heavy, and his palm trapped several strands of my hair, pulling on them. Our gazes connected, and I knew I was seconds from not only kneeing him in the groin but also permanently ensuring he would not reproduce.
A shadow fell across Trent's face and he jerked his hand away, stepping a foot back from me. Perhaps he read his impending neutering in my expression alone.