Page 98 of Ox

I snatch the menus out of Rocco’s hand before he can peruse them, then I shake my head. “No. We eat pretty much anything.” I pause to give her the chance to intervene. When she doesn’t, I add, “Except snails.”

Her laugh, my fucking God, it’s perfect. “You can be assured we willneverserve snails here.” My nostrils flare to suck in her delicious scent when she leans in close to whisper in my ear. “Unless he disses my cooking.” She motions her head to Rocco. “Then he deserves to eat slugs for dinner.”

I don’t miss the quickest press of her thighs when I throw my head back and laugh. Rocco is positive the Demi standing across from me isn’t the Demi from my dreams. I’m not convinced. In a way, this Demiisthe Demi from my dreams because she’s free like I always hoped she’d be. There’s no fear in her eyes, no panic coating her skin. Her wings are fully expanded, and they haven’t been clipped with carnage. She can finally fly high, and I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure she soars to her full potential.

While chuckling about the gaga gleam in my eyes, Rocco tosses a bundle of bills onto the tabletop before sliding out of the booth. “It looks like you have everything under control.” He stretches, using the long day as an excuse to leave, so he doesn’t appear rude to Demi. “Thank you for the coffee. I’ll be sure to drop in anytime I’m in the area.” After accepting an unexpected goodbye hug from Demi, Rocco lifts a gym bag my shock had me missing onto the tabletop. “Car keys, driver’s license, passport, and anything else you may need is in here. If you need more, you know how to reach me.” His tone makes it obvious the money puffing out the gym bag isn’t a loan. It’s mine to keep. Or should I say,ourssince Demi is a part of the equation. “Take care of her, Ox,” he murmurs before he stalks out of the café, leaving me alone with Demi and Max for the first time in years.

Only once he disappears into the dark night does Demi mutter, “He seems nice.” She screws up her nose before blurting out something she would have never been game to say only years ago. “A little rough around the edges, but nice, nonetheless.”

“He’s okay in small doses, but I wouldn’t recommend him to anyone long term.” A tiny vein in her neck flutters when I slip out of the booth. She’s standing so close our chests compete for space with every breath we take. “Can I help you cook?”

The eyes of the woman I love stare back at me for several heart-mending seconds before she dips her chin. “I think that would be nice.”

Her breaths come out in a hurry when I cup her jaw, but she doesn’t pull away. As I stare into her hurt-free eyes, I float my thumbs over the silky-smooth skin on her cheeks. I take my time assessing every perfect feature of her face, in awe of both her strength and her beauty.

Once I have every flawless detail memorized, I drag the tip of my index finger down her nose. It wells her eyes with tears in an instant and makes her words super croaky when she whispers, “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

I clear away the tears she releases without shame when I nod my head before saying, “Just now… outside in the rain.”

After whacking me in the stomach, she giggles. She knows I’m being playful just like I know the best thing about memories is creating them.

Or in our case, recreating them.