Mafia & Miss Honey | ✓

42. 𝓠𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪­𝓭𝓾𝓮

"Yes, right there." I moaned as the pleasure built, my stomach coiled. My body arched like a bowstring. Instead of feeling the bliss of my orgasm, the stars clouding my vision, I felt empty. My eyes jerked open. Instead of meeting Gian's dark eyes, I saw the ceiling of my living room. Confusion gripped me, we were in our bed, tangled in the sheets.

Sitting up straight, I looked around frantically. I was wearing Gian's t-shirt and my fingers were... I bit my lips and squeezed my shut in embarrassment. I removed them slowly, hissing at the loss. I flop around on the couch and crash my face on the pillow screaming in frustration. 

I rolled back and stared at the ceiling again. When I don't end up falling asleep after crying and, the exhaustion grips me taking me to slumber, I see him in my dreams. They began to be hazy at first but soon my creative mind took the matter in the hands and my dreams became vivid. I was able to touch him, without jolting out of the dream. Because my subconscious doesn't have any morals. And I don't feel bad for thinking about him, missing him as I do when I am wide awake. We talk about our feelings, profess our love, kiss, and made out like rabbits. And I would be fooling myself if I deny that I'd purposely stayed awake last night to achieve another one of those dreams.

It was Friday afternoon, a week has been passed after my non-date with Justin. He is coming to pick me up in the evening. Helen had talked to my ear off the whole week. After countless altercations with the staff, she now camps in with me at Van and my personal office in the kindergarten. She thinks it's a date but I have cleared it with Justin that it's not a date.

Scratching the back of my neck I sauntered toward my bedroom, to get changed into the normal clothes that would sit well If I have to be around other mortal beings. I wore blue jeans and a white top with a long jacket that reach my knees and my beige high heels. Caking my dark eyes with concealer, I was ready to roll or whatever they call it these days.

My gaze flickered toward Van's empty bed. His vet is keeping him under observation overnight. My chest constricts in pain when I think of him. His condition is not getting better. I visited the vet clinic Lorenzo had told me about, three days ago. They had been expecting me. I was not ready to take any help, afraid I would end up owing them. But I did it for Van. I paid for everything just like there any other customer, but Van did receive special treatment, their senior doctors came personally to see him. Explained every medical term I would have usually fail to understand otherwise with great patience. So basically, just like in the school this gesture also had Gian written all over it. But he knows I have taken it because it's for Van's benefit.

Justin texted me that he is on his way. I walk out and wait for him in front of the apartment building where Mr. and Mrs. Retirement reside. I don't feel comfortable to invite him over or let him know where I live. I didn't trust him like I trusted Gian. Mocking laughter escaped from my mouth at my hypocrisy. The passer-by frowned at me, I sheepishly brushed my finger over my ear pretending to be on Bluetooth. These days even the occasional stares get under my skin and I feel the compulsion to react to it.

Justin's car pulled up, he got out wearing dark jeans dark blue t-shirt, and a leather biker's jacket over it. He held the door open for me and have that 1000 watt smile that didn't do anything for me.

"You look beautiful, Zara." he breathed out, his eyes roamed over my body in appreciation. And the butterflies inside my belly didn't even jerk from their deep coma. So I politely thanked him.

The bar he took me was really beautiful, lit by yellow lights, creating a rich ambiance with uncomplicated amber-colored tables and chairs. The interior was based on rich woods, thick ropes tied at the ends were hanging off from the ceiling above, that too was entirely made of woods. The fray's songs were running in low sound, some couples were swaying to the music. It was packed with customers. But since they specialize in mocktails mainly, the smell of booze was not hanging in the air.