Free My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) by Shana Vanterpool Page A

how they shovel food into their mouths.
    James looks up, sensing my gaze. “Thank you.”
    I smile shyly at him. “You’re welcome. What’s the sign for thank you?” I ask.
    James sets his fork down and touches his hand flat to his lips, then extends it toward me. “Thank you.”
    I mirror his actions, earning a wide, gorgeous smile from him. “What about ‘you’re welcome’?”
    “There isn’t really one,” Kent speaks up. “Thank you works for both. How come you talk to her?”
    James shrugs, giving him a look that clearly says: I’m not going to talk about that in front of her.
    “You’re always so pissy.” Kent rolls his eyes at him. “We need to get you laid. When’s the last time you had any ass?”
    James signs something rude. At least it looks rude to me.
    Kent laughs. “I know you don’t need my help getting laid. Girls love that depressed quiet thing you got going on. They eat that shit up. Maybe I should start being depressed again. That’s what started this whole debacle. I was getting so much ass because I was depressed, and now I want the ones who don’t want me, but then they all eventually want me. What’s a man to do?”
    I simply eat my food. Kent is such a jerk.
    “You think I’m still depressed? It’s been a year. I think I’m over the brutal backstabbing betrayal.” Kent laughs uncomfortably. “Because that’s something you just get over. Shut up, James. It was a joke. You never appreciate my sense of humor.”
    He doesn’t exude depression. Unless, of course, the women, partying, and alcohol are his way of dealing with it. I understand his need to escape into something. But why take his depression and anger out on a different woman every night? It puts him at risk for STDs, not to mention the women. He can’t be the only one they’re with. Using another human being starts to add up when you do it every night. I picture the look of disgust on his face when he woke up next to Auburn Hair. He aimed that look at her, but it could’ve easily been aimed inwards.
    “Anyway,” Kent grumbles. “Thanks for the talk. Now let’s discuss what we’re doing tonight.”
    I sense Kent looking expectantly at me. “I have to work,” I remind him.
    “Can I come hang out there?”
    When was the last time Kent was by himself? Since I’ve moved in he’s had two girls, a party, and then his friends at Oblivion. The last time he was alone was when he showered. Although I can imagine what he fantasizes about. He’s probably never truly alone.
    “As long as you promise not to hook up with anyone else I work with.”
    “How’s the apartment hunting going?”
    Right. Wing-woman. “Fine. You can come hang out. But I need a key.”
    “I’ll make you one. As soon as I get your rent money I’ll fix the A/C.”
    I hold up a finger and grab my purse from my room. When I return to the table I set it down and push it to him. “Count my tips. I’ll write you a check for the rest.”
    He sucks some ketchup off on his thumb and then begins sifting through the contents to pull out a thick wad of cash. The higher he counts, the deeper my surprise. There’s even a one hundred dollar bill in the pot.
    “This is from me.” He grins at me.
    “Kent.”
    “You were hot, girl. You deserved a fat tip.”
    Never mind how demoralizing that sounded. “How much is there?”
    “Four hundred and fifty four dollars. Do you always make this much in tips?”
    I shake my head, stunned. “Never.”
    “You should shake your ass more often.” He winks at me. “That or your flirting skills have suddenly sharpened.”
    “Thanks for the compliment. I am now a confident, strong woman because of it.”
    “There goes that smart mouth again,” he warns quietly, giving me a dark look.
    After finishing his food, James signs thank you , dumps his dishes in the sink, and then shuffles groggily back to his bedroom.
    I bite my lip and decide to push him. “I’ve always thought I was smart. Thank you, Kent.