Wicked Hunger

Wicked Hunger Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Second-Class Dream

“So, dinner?” I say as we approach our cars, several paces away from each other after learning my lesson earlier.

“Dinner sounds great. Where do you want to go?” Ivy leans against her car, and the slowly fading sunlight falls over her face and shoulders. The pink and orange of a desert sunset warms her skin tone, making her look flushed and happy despite her earlier frustration.

“How about the Artichoke Café?” It’s a nice restaurant, and a busy one, thankfully. I don’t do secluded booths that are dim and romantic. Actually, I don’t usually do restaurants at all because it’s too risky.

“Where is that?” Ivy asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it before.”

“It’s in Downtown, on Central.”

Ivy frowns and looks down at her keys. “Do you want to just ride over together? I’m not very familiar with Albuquerque yet and I get lost easily, especially Downtown with all the one-way streets.”

If she sits next to me in the truck, there will be at least two or three feet between us. It’s a big truck. I’ll keep both hands on the wheel to make sure there’s no chance I’ll accidentally touch her. I’m getting even more tired as the day goes on, thanks to this morning. We’ll be in an enclosed space together, but it’s still warm enough that I can turn on the air conditioner to keep her scent from filling up the cab too much. The safer suggestion that she just follow me is on my lips, but her vulnerability puts me over the edge.

“Yeah, sure. We can ride together. I’ll bring you back here to get your car after.”

“Thanks,” Ivy says with relief.

I open the door for her when we reach the truck, but resist helping her step up to the seat, and keep my distance. When I close the door on her, I take several long deep breaths as I walk around to my side. I have to hold my breath until I turn the truck on and cool air blasts out of the vents.

As we drive, I try to fill in the huge gaps of things I don’t know about Ivy. Talking helps distract me a little. I ask her about living in California, moving to New Mexico, and even why they moved. For some reason Van had thought it very suspicious that Ivy’s family moved in the middle of the semester rather than during summer. Turns out, Ivy’s dad was slotted to take over the New Mexico office of the financial firm he works for. The guy he was replacing didn’t retire until two weeks ago. I shake my head at Van’s ridiculous obsession when I hear that.

We walk into the restaurant talking about what Ivy misses about her old home. Pausing long enough to tell the hostess we want a table rather than a booth, Ivy tells me about how she was learning to surf before she moved as we walk through the restaurant.

We are led to a two person table in the center of the dining room. I smile at the hostess’s choice. It’s perfect. There’s no chance of Ivy sitting next to me, and we’re surrounded by hungry patrons, none of which immediately sets off my hunger. I take my seat, gauging the level of hunger being this close inspires. My shoulders relax when I realize it is manageable enough to bear for a while.

“So, how did Van’s study date with Noah go?” Ivy asks.

Shaking my head, I say, “Wouldn’t know. She didn’t even tell me she was going out with him. There was a note on the kitchen table when I got home.”

“A note? Who leaves notes anymore? Why didn’t she just text you?”

“I don’t think she wanted me to know. The note was for my grandma.” Thinking about the note irritates me all over again. I can’t keep it out of my voice when I speak again. “They weren’t even studying. They went to the gym, for some reason.”