Time of My Life by Mary Frame

Time of My Life by Mary Frame

Author:Mary Frame [Frame, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mary Frame


“What are your faults? Do you have any?”

He lets out a bark of surprised laughter. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” He twists to meet my eyes as we walk down Columbus Avenue, in the direction of the Saloon, after eating dinner again. I’m starting to discover his likes and dislikes based on how often he steals my food from my plate. Maybe that’s a flaw in and of itself, but I enjoy the intimacy of it.

“No, it’s just that there’s, like, nothing wrong with you. It’s sort of disturbing. You have to tell me something bad.”

“Let’s see.” He rubs his hands together. “I have terrible morning breath.”

I huff. “That’s not a flaw. Everyone has morning breath.”

“I smell when I sweat.”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s move on from normal human functioning to the good stuff. And by good stuff, I mean bad stuff. Are you a loud chewer? Do you have a third nipple? Maybe an extra toe? Oh, I know, you’re a compulsive liar and megalomaniac.”

“You caught me.” He stops, hand to his chest. “I’m a multiple-appendages-having egomaniac with an aversion for truth.”

“Now see, you go and say stuff like that and I can’t hold any of it against you.”

He laughs and then taps my shoulder. “Okay. I’ve got one. A real one. I can get, uh,” he winces and shoves his hands in his pockets, “a little obsessive sometimes.”

“Uh-oh. Is this going to turn into one of those things where you follow me around, clone my cell to track all my calls, and lock my ex in a book vault?”

His grin is blinding. “Of course not. If I cloned your cell, I wouldn’t need to follow you around.”

We both laugh, and then he grabs my hand, twining my fingers with his.

My insides melt.

“I don’t stalk people. But I do obsess over work. It started with games though, when I was a teenager, and then led to app design. Silly, mindless games were something to focus on other than my illness. I still fall back into obsessive patterns sometimes. Leon is forever pulling me from the brink. When I get really involved in a project, I don’t take breaks. I don’t sleep, I forget to eat. I missed a couple of gigs and Leon almost murdered me.”

“I can understand. I mean, I get into a single-minded focus too.” Like when all I cared about was getting my pitch just right. Or getting Alex to kiss me each night, to the exclusion of everything else. And now all I can think about is getting Alex naked.

How can I get him to come up to my apartment? Maybe I can lure him in with the promise of something other than my smokin’ hot bod, because clearly, that’s not enough of an enticement.

“Hey, Pickle Juice!”

This again.

Leon almost gets hit by the car, again. They banter, Leon is called away, and wait for it . . .

“Can I give you a ride home?”

“Yes.”

After he parks in front of my apartment, he kisses me good night.



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