Yarrow deserves a better name. Something opulent like Glory or Beauty. A name no woman would want but would fit such a perfect face. When she stares into my eyes, I hear her counting something. Is it my eyelashes? The number of hairs on my eyebrows? I don’t ask because I’m afraid to startle her. Yarrow looks heavenly relaxed, and nothing in the world should interrupt this moment.

So of course, the cat does by rubbing against our legs and meowing. No doubt it smells the food, and Yarrow tears a sliver of pork from a piece on her plate. She offers it to the cat who then spends what feels like twenty minutes smelling it before finally eating.

“When can I move in?” I ask while she pets the cat.

Yarrow doesn’t look up from the animal circling her legs before saying, “Want to do it right now?”

“I don’t have much stuff.”

Finally returning her gaze to my face, I exhale with a relief disconnected from my common sense.

“We can go get it.”

“I can bring it over later. So, you’re cool with me sleeping over tonight?”

“Sure. I’ve never slept here. The cat’s the only one who’s slept in my bed.”

“Is your bed pink?”

“No,” she says. “I wish my townhome was more colorful, but I don’t want to stay here, so I don’t buy colorful stuff. I’d rather sleep at Ginger’s or Cayenne’s.”

“Because they have kids?”

“Yes. I like kids. They’re not jerks like grownups.”

“I assume you haven’t met Vile’s son yet,” I say, thinking of my club brother’s obnoxious kid.

“I heard he’s a bully. I’ll probably beat him up.”

“He’s nine.”

“Beating him up should be easy then.”

For whatever reason, the idea of Yarrow beating the shit out of that punk Trevor is the funniest shit ever. I laugh so loud that Yarrow frowns and backs away as if I might be dangerous. Reaching out to caress her face, I shouldn’t be so forward with her. Ginger gave me a solid warning on just how fucked up Yarrow is, but I can’t resist wanting to be closer to her.

“Your face is so fucking soft.”

“I don’t like wearing shoes.”

“That’s good to know.”

“I want to take them off.”

“Then take them off.”

Yarrow smiles and kicks off her shoes and then nearly tears off her socks. Wiggling her toes, she sighs loudly.

“I hate pretending to be like other people. Shoes suck.”

“Never pretend with me. I like fucked-up chicks, remember?”

“Like Annie?” she says, clearly teasing me with her words while she teases the cat with her toes.

“No, not like Annie. I never fucked her. Besides, she’s the wrong kind of fucked up. She’s the kind of fucked up where she could get healthier, but she doesn’t want to because she likes being a pain in the ass.”

“How is that different than me?” she asks while feeding the cat another piece of pork.

“You’ve never set raccoons loose in my house.”

“If I was mad at you, I’d burn your house down. Why involve innocent animals?”

“That’s the kind of fucked up I dig.”

Yarrow pokes me with her foot. “Did you or did you not fuck her?”

“I didn’t.”

“You lied to me before.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It makes me look good to the bros around here when I say I’ve fucked a lot of chicks.”

“You want to be popular.”

“No.”

Yarrow laughs. “You’re insecure.”

“No.”

“How come you’re not the club president?”

“Because Oz sucked Cell’s dick.”

“Hmm, interesting. Why didn’t you suck his dick so you could be president?”

“I don’t like the taste.”

“Neither do I. You’ll want to keep your dick away from my mouth.”

Her casual tone belies how her words just set my entire fucking body on fire. I rub my eyes hard as if trying to wake up from a too powerful wet dream.

“Did you want to be president?”

“I’d be a better one.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know. I guess I think highly of myself. Besides, I don’t have kids to distract me.”

“We could make a baby,” she says while nearly crawling under the table to sit with the cat. “I bet our baby would be really pretty. Dark hair and a handsome beard. We could name him Frank.”

“Why Frank?”

“It’s a man’s name.”

“Frank is my old neighbor’s name. He was a loser.”

“Did he have a mustache?”

“No.”

“The man who lived next to us in Little Memphis had a mustache. His name was Dan, and he said Duffy was possessed by a demon. Or needed more spanking.” Yarrow pauses long enough to smile at me. “Cayenne beat up Dan one day, and he never talked to us again. It was funny.”

“That’s a cool story.”

“Do you not want kids?” she asks, crawling back out from the table and sitting down to finish her food. “I don’t care if I’m loony-tunes. I want a baby really bad.”

“Is that why you want to date me?”

“I want your sperm,” she announces and glances at the cabinets. “Can you leave it in a cup?”

Even though her expression remains deadpan, I suspect Yarrow is fucking with me.

“That’s how Bay got pregnant,” Yarrow says and winks. “They delivered a tank with sperm inside.”

“Turkey baster, huh?”

“I don’t know what that means, but Bay had to lie with her legs in the air for a few hours. I sat with her and watched TV while Pepper cleaned. That’s what she does when stressed out but can’t punch anyone.”

“Seems like a silly way to get sperm when they could have just gone to a bar and gotten some for free.”

“They’re lesbians, Blackjack. That means they don’t like dick.”

“Yeah, that’s what I heard,” I laugh while she eats the last bite of food on her plate before taking it to the sink. “Do you believe me about Annie?”

“No. You lie.”

“I’m not lying about this. Besides, I lied about fucking her when I thought you were just the crazy fox from the crew. Now I know you’re the best fox from the crew.”

“Why fox?”

“Our old president’s wife preferred being called a fox instead of a chick. It caught on.”

“I’d rather be a cat than a fox.”

“You’d rather men call you kitty or pussy then?”

“I don’t want men calling me anything. They’re evil.”

“All men?” I ask, wondering if she forgot the package I’m sporting.

“Yes. Didn’t you know that?”

“No, I did not. Do you think Oz is evil?”

“Of course. He’s a man, but his mom trained him to control his evil side. That’s why he’s a good father and treats Ginger nice. He even likes cats. That’s because he’s so good at controlling his evil side. I like him.”

“Do you think I’m evil?”

“Of course, but I like you. Maybe your mom raised you right too.”

Unwilling to think about my mother when I’m struggling with a hard dick, I mutter, “I don’t think men are naturally evil.”

“That’s because you’re a man. It’s okay that you lie to yourself. I do too. I think probably everyone does.”

“I don’t lie to myself.”

“Ever?”

“I can’t say ever, but it’s not something I approve of. I’d rather face my problems.”

“You’re lying right now.”

“How do you know?”

“You blink too much.”

Rolling my eyes, I grunt. “Crap. I knew I had a tell.”

“I have a bunch of them. That’s why I always lose at cards. It’s not really fair that I get to play when I’m so bad, but my friends feel sorry for me.”

“You can play cards with me. We’ll see whose tells are the worst.”

Yarrow’s face comes alive when she smiles. I study her every feature, noticing a small scar at her jaw and a longer, thinner one at her left earlobe. Her dark lashes flutter as she watches me watching her. Then her blue eyes narrow into slits.

“Are you going to finish your food? Do you not like it?”

“I like it fine.”

“If you don’t like the food, you can bring your own to our next date.”

“What makes you think there’ll be a next date?”

“Because you like me. You’re stupid obvious about it.”

Chuckling, I shrug. “Yeah, I probably am.”

“I like you too. You don’t want to change my fucked-up parts.” Yarrow plops herself into my lap, nearly killing my still hard dick. “You understand.”

I ought to tell her how I’m only guessing half of the time, but she plants a kiss on me, and I forget about everything besides how perfectly she fits in my arms. I’ve gotten hung up on plenty of broken women over the years—usually from afar because I knew getting close would be a mistake.

With Yarrow, every warning goes off in my head, but I can’t help ignoring them. Logic’s never been my strong suit, so once again I give into a primal impulse and worry about the consequences later.