Chapter Nine-Maria&Luc

Maria

Butterflies?

I try to calm down as I wipe the bar and load the last of the glasses in the big plastic tub for one of the bussers to bring to the kitchen to be run through the dishwasher.

My stomach is clenched so hard, I might actually have abs by the time the night’s over.

Yeah. Right.

I snort at my idiotic joke and shake my head.

But seriously, do people really call this feeling of anxiety and nervous anticipation butterflies?

It doesn’t feel soft and gentle. Like a swarm of pretty butterflies.

It feels like I have fighter jets going at it inside my gut.

Maybe I’m worrying for nothing. Maybe Luc was just messing around.

Then I hear his voice.

“Baby Girl, you ready?”

I turn, my eyes wide.

“Just let me get my bag,” I whisper my reply.

Tell him, Maria. Tell him you’re a fucking green as grass virgin and he’ll run the other way.

I frown at my inner voice. It’s self-preservation, right? It has to be.

But I don’t want to listen. In fact, I am not going to.