The Third Kiss (Love's Mortal Coil #1)

Chapter 8 - Cora

Cora

Where are you?????

What was it with people and punctuation overkill? Beth wouldn't jackhammer the question at me face-to-face so why abuse my texting ears? Seriously.

I locked the Beetle and contemplated not replying. I could argue only dogs heard texts at that frequency. But then I risked her sending more punctuation violation my way. I gave in.

Just parked. See you in two.

Or twenty. Because that was how long it would take me to make the short walk from the car to the café in this ironsmelter heat. I freed my limp ponytail from its elastic band and gathered my hair in a makeshift bun high on my head. It didn't help much.

The BeanStop Café sat wedged between a florist and a travel agent in a small cluster of suburban businesses off the main road. With the cinema just around the block, the café attracted a large chunk of moviegoers, especially on the weekends. Today was Monday. That didn't mean the place would be empty. Caffeine addiction was a wide-reaching phenomenon.

I pushed the door open, and the air conditioning smacked me between the eyes, then slid cool hands down my face as though in apology for the rude shock. I sighed; my body temperature was already dropping. My gaze zipped straight to the worn red leather couch at the far end of the café, but Beth wasn't at her usual spot. Instead, I found her at one of the large, and equally worn, wooden tables tucked away in the corner.

"What took so long?" she asked before I had a chance to sit down.

"The class ran over." I pulled out a chair and slumped down, dumping my workout bag on the floor. After taking care of my driver's license paperwork, I'd gone straight to Master Wei's.

Beth sent a critical glance from my head to the hem of my faded T-shirt. "You look like you've been run over. I'm telling you, all that tae kwon do is bad for your health."

The tae kwon do wasn't the problem. If anything, I'd needed to let off steam after last night. "It's not the class. It's the heat." I blew a rogue hair out of my eyes, too beat to wipe it away.

"Jeez. You've gone soft."

"And you can talk?" Beth was the first to complain if the temperature climbed anywhere past comfortable. She didn't like to sweat. "Have you ordered?"

"No, waiting for you. What do you want?"

I dredged up enough energy to cast my eyes over the drinks board. "Iced chocolate, extra cream." And a bucket of ice I can stick my head into. I closed my eyes, making it clear she'd have to get up and order. I wasn't moving until something cold and sweet hit my insides.

"You stay here and acclimatize. As much as filing Aunt Helena's case notes bores me, I didn't give up my shift so I could watch you float in and out of consciousness." I ignored the note of sarcasm in her voice. There was some rustling of clothes as she got up, then she shuffled off. Eyes still closed, I slumped farther in my chair and let my head loll back over the backrest. The heat wasn't my only problem; lack of sleep was another.

Thanks to Jonas.

I'd managed maybe four hours. The other three I'd lain awake picturing the many and varied ways in which I could demonstrate to him just how well I could take care of myself. I'd kicked his backside more times than not during a sparring session, even before my second Dan grading. And last night he'd come darn close to having me kick his backside again. Seriously, where did he get off?

A chair scraped the floor beside me, but I couldn't summon the strength to move.

"Two measly parties and you're beat," Jonas said. "Didn't they teach you to party in Manhattan?"