Cupid's Bow by Heather R. Blair

Author:Heather R. Blair [Blair, Heather R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-05T16:00:00+00:00

Somehow over the next few weeks, that feeling persists. I get sucked into her world. I’m not at her place every day or anything, but almost. She doesn’t complain either way, but her eyes light up whenever she answers the door and I’m standing there.

It makes me feel about ten feet tall. Surprisingly, I like being part of Katie’s world. Even though I gotta say, she really does work way too fucking hard. In fact, I start feeling guilty for being such a lazy ass. Besides the bar three nights a week and the volunteering for that cancer charity that I quickly find out was far from a one-time deal, Katie is working on her bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering, taking a full load with an eye to pursuing pharmaceutical chemistry, of all things.

I’m looking over her stack of books one night while she’s in the bathroom brushing her teeth, my head spinning and feeling more than a little inadequate as I thumb through the pages.

“How do you keep all this straight?” I mumble under my breath. I’m no dummy, but I’m more people-smart than book-smart. This stuff is Greek to me—except I can actually read Greek.

She glances over at me. “I like it.”

“You like this?” I tap a finger on the formulas that look a lot like Uncle Heph’s chicken scratch when he’s working on a new project.

“Sure. It isn’t easy, but it is fascinating.”

I shake my head and set the book back down.

She shuts off the bathroom light and stands in the doorway, a hand on her hip. “Honestly, Q, don’t you have any hobbies?”

Well, I used to. Besides women, two things make me happy: shooting arrows and making shit. Mostly bows, but other things, too. I’m good with my hands, not drawing the way Artie and Lo are, but shaping things. Out of wood, mostly. I’ve always liked the way it feels under my hands: full of promise.

“I did.”

“Maybe you should get back into it. Sometimes a hobby can become a full-time gig.” With a contented sigh, she slides into bed and curls into my side.

I sleep over fairly regular now. And though she’s been to my place once or twice, we never stay the night there. I think it makes her uncomfortable. It’s not a mansion or anything, but it’s obviously not a tiny apartment in the city either. Despite her crack about millions and jet planes, since she saw my place, Katie hasn’t expressed any curiosity about why I’m not worried about being without a job. Her eyes got big and she went kind of quiet, but that was it.

We don’t really talk too much about stuff like that. Though we talk about plenty of other things.

Which casino has the best breakfast buffet. What to do in this town besides gamble. Because, apparently, despite living in the casino mecca of the world, neither of us has dropped more than a couple bucks on a game of chance in years. I also found out during that

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