Page 5 of With Stars in Her Eyes

“My mistake.” Amusement pursed my lips. “You just made a very loud, terrified, slightly high-pitched sound with your vocal cords.”

One of Thea’s perfectly maintained eyebrows arched in surprise at finding me a worthy verbal sparring opponent. “It was an appropriately measured yelp, if anything.”

“If you say so.”

The door to the back hallway opened and Sam appeared, phone on her shoulder. “Did someone scream? I was finishing up a call.”

I attempted to hide my snort with a little cough, but Thea wasn’t fooled and glared. “That’s actually up for discussion… apparently.”

“I think it was really more of a surprised—uh—”

“Squeal?” I supplied.

Thea’s only response to me was a miffed sniff. She ignored my barely suppressed laughter in favor of focusing on Sam. “I’m not sure if you remember me, but—”

“Oh my god. Thea? Marshall’s Thea.” Sam’s eyes widened.

“ Yes. Hi. ”

God . Thea’s full smile was somehow brighter than any spotlight I had ever performed under.

Sam juggled her phone and notebook and rushed to give the brunette a one-armed squeeze. “Marshall didn’t tell me you were in town visiting. But I haven’t been to the pub in forever, so I guess—”

“I just moved here to live actually. I took the piercing job at Squid. Staying with Marshall for now since he’ll be back in Miami for football season.”

“That’s amazing . We have to catch up.”

She’s Marshall Greene’s friend? Like, was she a friend friend?

Or friend? Marshall was a professional football player and probably knew people all over.

I didn’t know Marshall particularly well even though Sam’s family and Marshall’s family were old friends.

I had met him at a lot of family events over the years, but I was never comfortable around male strangers.

Kestrel could deal with them professionally.

Courtney Starling could not. This was my own fault for the same reason it was hard for me to talk to any strangers…

even beautiful ones who were potentially queer.

“Wait, so why did you scre—er—squeal?” Sam looked from Thea to me.

“Billy Gibbons Houdini’d himself out of his carrier and tried to make a new friend,” I said with a grimace.

Sam shook her head. “Little stinker.”

The muffled elevator music from her phone cut to a person’s voice, and Sam scrambled to get it back up to her ear. After greeting the person on the other end of the call, she looked back at Thea. “Sorry. Having an issue with a shipment, and I’ve been waiting on hold forever. We’ll catch up later.”

Thea gave Sam an emphatic nod in response, and Sam hustled back toward the office.

This left me alone with Thea again. “So I’m guessing you didn’t stop in here to be harassed by a dragon. Can I… can I help you find something?”

Thea scanned the space behind me. “So… the cages and tanks…”

“The shop fosters exotic pets sometimes. Samantha’s grandfather owned the vet hospital before he retired. It’s a long story, but it fits the theme.”

“The theme—oh, Menagerie Books. I get it now.”

“Usually, if we don’t have real animals, we have some stuffed ones we put there for the kids, but I cleaned the cages yesterday and haven’t had a chance to put them back.”

“This place is a little bit weird.”

“We like ‘a little bit weird.’” I fixed the crooked stack of book club flyers.

Thea’s eyes sparkled with amusement. Her full smile showed off an impossible fifth dimple. “Me too.”

I rubbed a spot on my sternum to remind myself to breathe.

Thea picked up one of the new bright orange book club flyers from the stack in front of the register and then put it back.

Her hands glinted with silver rings, some of which held mini crystals.

Her nails were as short as mine but painted midnight blue.

Black stars, moons, cups, and swords were inked along each of her long fingers. My mouth went dry.

Fuck me.

“Right, so there was a message on the machine at Squid that some boxes were delivered here instead of there.”

“Ah.” Seriously why won’t my cheeks stop burning? “Sam said something about that… One sec.” I dug through the pile of deliveries next to the desk and found the three boxes.

“Do you need some help getting them over to Squid?” This was an incredibly absurd question since none of the boxes were big or heavy.

“I’ll be fine.” Thea extended her hand over the stack of boxes between us.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

Right. Because I didn’t say it, did I? “I’m…” I swallowed away that silly, split-second instinct to say Kestrel . “I’m Courtney.” I shook her hand.

Thea’s short nails scraped across my palm as she pulled away. “Pleasure to meet you, Courtney.”

“Likewise.”

Thea adjusted her heavy coat and hat before picking up the three boxes.

I shuffle-stepped around the counter. “Hey, wait.”

Oh shit.

I asked Thea to wait. Which meant I had to have a reason for asking her to wait.

You couldn’t just tell a beautiful woman you just met that you don’t like the idea of her walking away from you for absolutely no reason.

Especially since based on how this conversation was going, I should be relieved she was leaving.

Why did Thea’s carefree, slightly witchy elegance make me feel so inexplicably on edge?

“You okay there?”

“I’m—er—fine. I just… talking. Sometimes. You know?”

Thea clearly did not know. Probably because there didn’t seem to be a socially awkward bone in this woman’s body, whereas absolutely nothing coming out of my mouth made any sense.

My twitching hand hit the stack of flyers.

“You were looking at our book club flyers.” My hip banged painfully on the counter as I grabbed one for her.

“Thanks.” She shifted the three boxes under one arm to take it. “Which do you recommend?”

“What do you like to read?”

“I don’t really know. I was in school for a long time and got burned out on textbooks and research.

I used to steal my older sister’s thrillers sometimes.

They were okay.” She paused. “Generally, not a big fan of men who write one-dimensional oversexualized women though… just as a rule. You know… like… no seemingly sentiently heaving areolas or prehensile clitorises manufactured by dudes who have obviously never seen a vulva in the wild let alone given anyone with one an orgasm.”

I blinked once, replaying Thea’s words to make sure I’d heard them correctly before I burst out laughing. I laughed until the corners of my eyes were wet. Thea’s subtly genteel Southern lilt combined with her deadpan delivery was a lot for my hyperliteral brain, so it had taken me a second.

Thea sighed ruefully, clearly relieved. “Shit, sorry. That was a lot. It’s been a while since I’ve been around new people, and at home people were used to my off-putting sense of humo—”

“No. No. No .” When was the last time I laughed this hard? “It’s fine. You’re just really funny.”

“I thought I’d completely mortified or offended you.”

“Happy to say I’ve never been offended by anything having to do with vulvas. Believe me.” My hand clapped over my mouth. “I think that came out wrong,” I said through my splayed fingers.

“Better than not coming at all though, right?” She winked, and I nearly died right there. “So tell me about Slaughter and Spice? Ominous.”

Somehow we’d moved from lizard names to vulvas and orgasms and now to murder kink? My head spun, but not in a bad way… “Slaughter and what ?”

“The club?”

“Club?”

Thea’s blue nail hit the name of a book club. “This one.”

Understanding hit. “Oh right. Yeah, so that one alternates between horror and romance. I think it’s all women authors though. Samantha picks those books, and she has amazing taste.”

“Does it come with a mascot like the middle-grade one? I shudder to think what it could be…” Thea’s wry lips compressed.

“Not that I know of. You could suggest that to Samantha though, because she runs it.”

Thea’s eyes flicked up to mine again. “Do you run one? Your name’s not here.”

“I’m filling in leading this one that meets the first Thursday of every month. Ellen’s on leave right now.”

“Are there—”

“Absolutely no sentient areolas or prehensile clitori—or no, it’s clitorises? Obviously, it’s not like octopus and octopi, although isn’t that actually octopussies—puses. Octopuses, I mean. I’m sorry. I think I lost the thread there.”

Thea, of course, hadn’t lost the thread.

Nor did she seem fazed by anything I had just said.

“I think the plural of octopus is actually either octopi, octopuses, octopodes, or just octopus, strangely enough, and to explain how I know that would involve an existential debate about invertebrates as singular organisms versus a collective, and probably makes more sense knowing I once went out with a marine biologist for a week. But I do know for a fact that the plural of clitoris is definitely clitorises.” Her tone remained shockingly academic.

“ Clitorises doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?”

“I guess that depends on who you ask.”

My mouth fell open in a stunned expression Thea seemed to thoroughly enjoy.

“I meant…” I gave Thea a mock-glare. “I meant the word is weird… because of the multiple ess sounds. Not that I have a problem with a plural amount of clitori— Fuck , I did it again. I meant clitoriseses. Clitorises .” I gulped a steeling breath, trying to make the next few words deliberate and strong and hopefully with correct word-pluralization.

“I mean I am good with there being more than one clitoris in a situation. Clitorises are great. Tongues too. But, again, for the record, absolutely none of them in that book are prehensile.” My hand smacked my forehead.

“Very , very good to know.”

Okay, this is a complete disaster . Sam should fire me immediately.

“I’m sorry. Like I said I’m not good at peopling. Never have been. When I’ve helped Sam—Samantha—out with the store before it was less of this part of it.”

“The talking to people part?” With an unfaltering smile, Thea adjusted her earring from where it had gotten caught in her beanie, her rings glinting as she did.

“Yes. Exactly.”

Despite Thea’s obvious amusement, I wouldn’t be surprised if steam was spurting out of my ears.

I was nervous enough about leading the book club without thinking about this stunning, classy yet enigmatically artsy and tatted-up goddess coming— not coming, stop thinking about coming —rather, attending the book club.

I had spent years performing. Years being able to speak and sing and play multiple instruments in front of crowds of thousands, and somehow it was always the one-on-one conversations with strangers in totally normal situations that defeated me.

“Well, you make a really solid pitch for the book club.” She slipped the flyer into her coat pocket. “But I am in and out of a lot for the next few months, so I’ll have to look at my calendar. I’d better get back.”

“Can I get the door—”

“I got it.” She pushed the door open, the bell above it jangling. “Nice to meet you again, Courtney.”

“Same. And sorry again about Billy Gibbons.”

Thea’s departing snort of laughter made my heart play hopscotch against my chest again.

The door to the office creaked open. Sam’s head poked out from the hallway like a vaudeville actor who had just been pulled offstage. “I tried to come out when my call ended but then I heard you bantering about genitals. Figured I shouldn’t intrude on that…”

“Thanks a lot.” I twisted the top of my water bottle and gulped down electrolytes to avoid the question probably written all over my best friend’s face.

Deflect .

I rubbed my eyes. “Did you know that octopodes is a lesser used but acceptable plural of octopus?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Me either.”

“So… do you want to fill me in on what happened in the last, I don’t know…” Samantha checked her watch. “… fifteen minutes since book club ended?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Despite this, I was on the verge of spilling the rest of the details of the conversation when an alert pinged on my phone. It was a calendar reminder for an appointment I really regretted making right now. “Oh fuck .” I passed the phone to Sam.

She chuckled. “Well, that should be interesting, shouldn’t it?”