Tattoos & Teacups by Anna Martin

Author:Anna Martin [Martin, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press LLC

Chapter 9

SATURDAY afternoons had become “our” time, a natural extension of Friday nights, which Chris had claimed as well. My routine, once such a well-worn thing that I barely had to think about it, or even acknowledge its existence, warmed and flexed around him until he was completely incorporated into it. I taught him the pleasures of breakfast tea. One week he made me a “proper” American breakfast with eggs and bacon and blueberry pancakes. The next week it was my turn, and I made him a traditional Scottish fry-up.

The following week, we argued over whose was the best. Then agreed to disagree, and made toast. Toast was one of the few things we could readily agree on—he still grouched about the tea.

Saturday afternoons held less structure. We never showered until after breakfast, usually together, which most often led to some rather intimate groping-type activities. Since Chris tried to work as much as possible on the weekends, whether that was a gig with his band or freelancing, our Saturday nights together were slightly more limited.

Sundays, however, meant different things to the both of us. I had to go over my lectures for the week and make sure all of my notes were together so I could maintain my reputation as one of the best lecturers the university had to offer. Things like that were important to me.

Sometimes, though, I managed to get all of my shit together so that we had time to spend together on a Sunday afternoon as well. When the stars aligned like that, I’d text him, since he never seemed to want to answer his phone when I called, and figure out a time to pick him up.

Chris was waiting on the front steps of the house when I pulled up and beeped at him. Unsurprisingly, he was texting someone on his phone.

“Everything okay?” I asked him as he bounced over to the car and leaned in for a kiss.

“Yeah. Mm. You taste good. Do we have plans?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Why, do you have something you need to do?”

“Well, I’ve just been talking to Chloe. Apparently she’s finished all her homework for the weekend and is bored out of her fucking mind.”

“There are too many things wrong with that statement for me for to even begin to process,” I muttered, pulling away from the curb but heading out toward Luisa’s anyway. “How do you have Chloe’s phone number? Why are you texting her? Why on earth does she voluntarily want to spend the afternoon with me when she doesn’t have to?”

“She gave me her number the last time we saw her,” Chris said reasonably, winding down the window and turning up the stereo. I could never understand why he seemed to want to both freeze and deafen himself while he traveled. And me in the process. “She asks me sometimes how you are, what we’re doing, that kind of stuff. She wanted to come to a gig, but I said you probably wouldn’t be down with that.

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