Chapter Fourteen: I Need A Filter

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Dustin

Day six of avoiding Riley. It was Sunday, a considerably slow day at Feral. The dancefloor was packed, but just a little less than Saturday. I met Freya the bar. She was adding a drink to an already filled tray.

"Hey," she chirped. The cut on her face had healed and from the way she moved I could tell that her ribs did not bother her anymore.

"Hey," I greeted back, sitting on the stool nearest to her. "How are you feeling? All healed up?"

"Yes. I told you guys not to worry about it. It was just the drugs hindering my healing, that's all."

I nodded my acceptance. The tray as still on the table. I figured she had to add more drinks.

She saw me staring at it, and jerked her head towards a rowdy table of women. "Bachelorette party." She grinned. "I've never seen one in person."

I smiled back. Her happy energy made me laugh and smile more. I loved Riley, but we did not laugh together like this. He made me happy, just by being, existing. Freya's happy was infectious. She smiled and all that joyful energy rubbed off on me.

"Probably because you are too young to be in the kind of places where they are held," I pointed out.

She finished making the drink and placed it on the tray signalling a server to come and get it.

"I am twenty years old, barely the debutante." She leaned on the bar towards me, getting in my space. "Plus I'm not exactly....normal. Alcohol has zero effect on me, so the twenty-one year old age limit is a waste where I'm concerned."

How she made that sound flirtatious, I have no idea. It was just one of her charms. I doubt she even realized it when she was doing it.

She got me a coke from the fridge. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something?"

"Oh?"

"Oh." She gave me a meaningful look, whose meaning I could not decipher. "What do you think of my hair?" she hedged.

The question caught me so off guard I almost chocked on my coke. "What?"

"My hair. Do you like it? Would you rather it shorter or longer?"

I looked at it. It reached her hips. I loved that. It was honey blonde. I loved that too. And the curls were refreshing. And then something occurred to me.

"Isn't this something you should be asking your mate?"

She glared at me. "Just answer the question. Your opinion is important to me too," she mumbled.

"Why?" I asked taking another sip.

She did not respond. Instead she watched me, brown eyes imploring....it made me answer without thinking.

"Long. I like it long. You'd look amazing naked; blonde hair draped all over," I rushed out, sweeping my eyes from her head to toes.

I grabbed my drink and left her behind the counter, gaping at me.

I knew it then, I think I knew it long before that, but it was in that moment that I decided...

That woman was not good for my sanity.

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