Beautiful Addictions by Season Vining Read Free Book Online Page B

someone the way she wanted him. Josie couldn’t risk his finding
     out how damaged she was.
    Trying to fool herself into thinking that it was a purely physical desire, she closed
     her eyes, imagining him crushed in a grip between her thighs. Quickly, her mind was
     lost to a fantasy of touching and tasting his flesh.
    Tristan cleared his throat, startling Josie and reminding her that there was a conversation
     taking place. Feeling as though she’d been caught with those visions in her head,
     Josie dropped her eyes down to her plate. She scrambled to divert his attention.
    “The FBI changed my name. Shipped me cross-country. They said it was for my own protection,”
     Josie finished, rolling her eyes at the thought of being protected.
    A broad silence stretched between them. Josie busied herself with eating as Tristan
     sat dumbfounded.
    “Then?” Tristan asked.
    “Then what?”
    “That was eight years ago,” he said.
    “I won’t bore you with the tales of living in foster homes, Tristan. Imagine the worst,
     multiply that by ten. It’s nothing a few decades of drugs and alcohol won’t cure.”
    Josie shoved a piece of bacon into her mouth. She chewed thoroughly before swallowing
     and making eye contact with Tristan. He sat frozen, suspended over his food.
    “I had no idea. None of us did.”
    “That’s kind of how witness protection works.”
    Josie continued to eat while Tristan sat watching. He felt sick to his stomach. It
     seemed as though a black cloud had settled over their table.
    “Josie! Where you been all my life, girl?”
    The pair looked up to find a young black boy leaning on their table. His denim jacket
     covered a dirty T-shirt, and braids stuck out from his hat. He smiled at Josie and
     gave her a wink.
    “Gregory, what’s up, little man?”
    “Ah, you know. This and that. How you doin’? Ain’t seen you around in a while. We
     gettin’ your deliveries all the time, though.”
    “I’m good.”
    Josie ducked her head and sucked on her straw. She felt exposed having this conversation
     with Tristan present.
    “Yeah, looks like you real busy.”
    Gregory turned to Tristan and gave him a once-over, tilting his head and sliding his
     lips sideways in disapproval.
    “Where’s your sister?” Josie asked.
    “Stop trying to change the subject, hottie. You know I’m tryin’ to holla at you.”
    Josie shook her head and put down her milk shake.
    “When I’m into fourteen-year-olds, you’ll be the first to know.”
    “I may be fourteen, but I got game. Better than this…” Gregory said, motioning to
     Tristan.
    “Tristan, this is Gregory. Gregory, Tristan,” Josie offered, waving back and forth
     between the two. Tristan wiped his hands on a napkin and held one out toward the boy.
    “Nice to meet you, Greg.”
    “Oh, shit,” Josie whispered.
    “Greg? Did you say Greg? Did this sexy woman right here say my name was Greg? No.
     She said Gregory. Three syllables. Big effort for a lazy fool like you, but work it
     out, white boy.”
    Josie giggled, pressing the palm of her hand over her lips.
    “Gre-gore-ree,” Gregory pronounced, unhinged by Tristan’s gall. “Where did you find
     this clown?” he asked Josie.
    “My apologies, Gregory,” Tristan spoke up, saving Josie from answering. “I’m sorry.”
    “Yes, you are.”
    “Nice jacket. Gavin give you that?” Josie asked.
    “Yeah, you know. I guess she grew out of it or whatever. It’s a little old and a lot
     country, but I ain’t gonna complain.”
    “It’s actually vintage Levi’s. It’s got the single-stitch at the bottom of the button
     placard and only has breast pockets, so it’s pre-1971.”
    “Are you speakin’ English? It’s just a jacket, man,” Gregory moaned. “Seriously, Jo?
     You could do better. I mean, why not me?”
    “Because curfew law says you’re not allowed outside of the home between ten P.M. and six A.M. on weekdays,” Tristan stated, pleased with himself.
    “Guess that