Mated to the Mafioso

[ 4 ] - The Three Last Dates

[ A N D R E A ]

I sigh and drop my jacket's hood, giving Preethi a flat look. "Do you seriously not rem—" Hold on. She's panicked; maybe not a good time to be sarcastic to her. I raise my hands. "I'm...Andrea. Andrea Gelman? Ring a bell?"

"Jeez, Andrea—I forget you do that shifting thing." Preethi slaps me on the arm, sighing in relief. My shoulders dip in comfort; I shed my jacket, hanging it beside the door. "Yeah. You use that face to scurry off when things get tough! I remember now. Like that time I told you to meet Robbie. He was cute! I dunno what you didn't see in him..."

"The first thing Robbie boasted about was his gun collection. He had 55 guns. And he wanted kids. A lot of kids. Already. You don't remember? He kept saying that with my chest's size, I'd be great at nursing kids, that creep...so I left before we even had the appetizer down."

I'm trying to move, get to my room, but Preethi's in a talkative mood. I keep trying to side-step her, but she closes in, excited. She has an idea; I can tell. I don't want ideas—I just want a warm shower.

"How about, um, Liz?" Preethi says, blocking my way through the narrow hallway.

"She was sweet. But she got handsy really fast. Even when I asked to slow down. So I went to the bathroom and..."

"Flor?" Preethi's running through everyone she's set me up with.

I glare at her. "Pree, I—"

"Flor?" she asks again. I sigh. Cave. Flor was cute. They had amazing fashion; leather jackets and colorful shirts. Their makeup was always fantastic, too. I wanted to get lessons from them.

"They were cute, but..."

"But what?"

"I don't know. I think I got nervous and just...said I got along well with them, and that we'd be great friends, but I didn't have that spark."

"But you did have that spark?"

"Yes." I wave my hands and step past Preethi once she gets out of the way. "It doesn't matter."

The hallway opens up to the main room—kitchen and living room in one. Only, it's...a mess. Cookware strewn around. Chairs pulled out. Papers and trash scattered.

I turn and give my suitemate a raised brow.

"I got inspired, okay? And anyway, with all of this freaking violence everywhere, I can't even focus on job applications! Ugh! So inconsiderate..."

It reminds me of what I just went through, and I take a minute, shutting my eyes, leaning against the wall. Preethi continues.

"...I mean, werewolves are hot, sure. And I know I should like them, I mean—I was a teenage girl once. But they're so hairy. And they smell like dogs! And they do this shit and blow stuff up and—"

"Hey." I face her, scowling. "You seriously want to continue to spew those stereotypes? How many stereotypes have you had to dispel about yourself?" I look her up and down, her deeply brown skin.

Preethi huffs, folding her arms across her chest. "Well, you're not wrong...but I did hook up with a werewolf once, and he was hairy."

"At least he won't be cold in the winter." I step to the fridge and glance at all the magnets and photos. Preethi loves to travel; she's visited over thirty countries and counting. There are magnets from each place. Photos of her and some friends from college, post-college, work. Another of Preethi and her family—her four siblings, all older than her; all boys. And, standing shorter than everyone else, her two grinning parents. Seeing it makes my heart hurt a little.