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My Alien’s Obsession (Draci Alien #1)
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From the moment I scent her, I have to have her underneath me.
The human female spins and runs straight into my chest.
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“Hey Juliet,” Frank, the regular daytime barista says. He’s tall and lanky, with a whispy emo mustache that is not as attractive as he thinks it is. “You want your regular?”
“Yep. But add an extra shot to the Americano.”
“Late night partying?”
Hmph. Only if arguing with my boyfriend until the wee hours of morning counts.
“You seen Ana?” I ask. I look around the cute, hip little coffee shop but don’t see her. I come here a lot to study for the couple online classes I’m taking, trying to finally finish up my degree. “She texted me and Giselle to meet her here.” She said it was an emergency. “I thought she’d be here already.”
The three of us have been friends since we were little kids and have somehow managed to stay connected through high school, through boyfriends and relationships, and through college. Sometimes we were closer than at other times but recently when Giselle moved back to Sacramento for her new job, we’ve all become tighter than ever.
Well, at least the two of them have. Sometimes I feel like a third wheel but I know it’s all my fault. I’m the one that’s pulled away over the past couple of years.
“Haven’t seen anyone but you, Sunshine.” Frank leans his elbows on the counter and grins at me.
“Aw, you begging for tips again, Frank? You know I always got you covered.”
I add a tip to the purchase and swipe my card. I’m just about to turn to look for Ana again when I run into a wall.
Not a wall. A guy. A really huge guy. Like NFL football player huge.
I crane my head back to look up at his face. And then back a little more.
Big. Gorgeous. Man.
“Hi,” I squeak.
He just stares down at me, his eyes such a light amber they’re almost golden. He doesn’t say a word.
His brow furrows slightly, though, like he’s about to say something. And then he licks his lips, something I don’t think I would usually find sexy, but when he does it, it’s insanely hot.
“Next!” Frank calls loudly.
“Oh, sorry,” I mutter, finally dropping my eyes and getting out of the big guy’s way. My cheeks are on fire. Jesus, how long did I stand there just gaping up at him? I have a boyfriend and God knows my life is complicated enough. I don’t need to be inviting any more drama.
After I get my Americano and add cream and sugar, I sit down at my favorite table by the bay window in the front.
I glance towards the entryway but still no Ana or Giselle. Where the hell are they? I check my phone again to make sure I’m at the right place.
Ana: SOS. Coffee Shop on 3rd. NOW. Very Important!
I assumed this SOS was just as flaky as most of Ana’s usual Extremely Urgently Important messages but what if I’m wrong this time? What if something really has gone wrong? And I’ve just been here ogling sexy guys at the coffee shop?
But she’s only 10 minutes late. I know I’m overreacting. It’s a bad tendency. I blame it on all the secrets I’m keeping.
My eyes drift back over to the man with the huge shoulders and tight ass as he casually walks with a cronut and sits down at a nearby table, San Francisco Chronicle in hand. Huh. A guy who actually reads the paper instead of just being glued to his phone or laptop all the time?
How does this guy not have a ring on his finger? I checked. Because I’m a horrible person. My boyfriend Robbie is too, arguably worse, but still.
I look out the window at the vibrant street. Downtown Sacramento is always buzzing, especially in summer. People walk by in pairs or clumps, laughing and smiling with shopping bags or else walking with purpose like they know exactly where they’re going…
And me? Where am I going? I look down into my Americano. This is so not what I ever imagined for myself. Twenty-six years old, stuck in a dead-end relationship, barely scraping by.
Ugh, this is why I always have my laptop or my ereader with me whenever I come here. My daily life is usually too busy for any time to just sit around and think about shit and that’s the way I like it.
I pull out my phone to text Ana and ask her where she is but the next second she bursts in through the coffee shop double doors, shoulder-length pink hair flying around her, in a black and white pinstripe dress and turquoise mary-janes. She glances around the coffee shop and then makes a beeline for my table. Giselle follows behind her at a much calmer pace. She waves at Frank and heads towards the counter to get coffee.
That’s all the signal I need. This is just an ‘ Ana emergency.’ A.k.a. not a real one.