Ally snickers. “Wow. Such a profound observation, Mr. Drake.”
I turn my head just in time to see her throw her head back and laugh, the sound so pure and unexpected that I find myself smiling.
“Not space-space. Not like the “final frontier” or some shit like that. But space…room to breathe. To grow. To dream.”
“Mmmm.” The sound is throaty and erotic as hell. “Poetic.”
It is poetic for me, and I instantly regret my words. Seems like I can’t stop the word vomit when I’m with her. There’s just something about Ally that distracts me just enough to forget myself, beckoning my truth like a siren’s call. I just want to tell her…everything.
Maybe we were friends in a past life. Or lovers.
“Why did you leave me this afternoon?” she finally asks. I knew it was coming, yet the words still feel like nails on a chalkboard.
“I had to.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I was distracted. And when I’m distracted, I can’t do my job.”
She frowns, and turns to her side, her front completely facing me. “You were distracted…by me?”
“Yes.”
She hums a response but doesn’t press for more. Instead she jumps to her feet, her sandals slapping against the pavement. “Hey, are you hungry?”
“Hungry?”
“Yeah. You weren’t at dinner. I figured you must be hungry.”
I shake my head. Sharing a beer or a bowl of ice cream is one thing, but breaking bread with the woman would be just asking for trouble. And I’m fairing just fine in that department on my own, f*ck
you very much.
“I’m good.”
Ally takes a step forward, close enough for me to see the floral pattern of her sundress from the corner of my eye. “Did you eat dinner?”
“No.” I peer at her just in time to see her roll her eyes.
“Well, I want to eat something. And you’re not going to make me eat alone, are you?” She flutters those dark auburn lashes, and her eyes grow as large and round as the moon.
“What about your ice cream?” I don’t tell her that I already polished off that carton and had to send out for more.
“Nah. I need real food. I’m hungry.”
“How are you hungry? Wasn’t dinner a couple hours ago?” I let my gaze sweep her slight frame, wondering where the hell she packs away all those daily bowls of ice cream. To society’s standards, Allison would be considered skinny, maybe even a bit understated. Her breasts aren’t naturally large or inflated with mounds of silicone or saline. Her ass is pert and small, just large enough to fit in my palms. And her hips are narrow, yet shapely and feminine.
Allison is a real woman. She isn’t pumped full of filler or snatched and pulled to the point that she can’t breathe. She’s comfortable in her skin, and that makes me all the more intrigued by her, and confused by her reasons for being here. Women as confident as her shouldn’t give two flying f*ck
s about being subservient sex slaves to douche-canoe little shits like Evan Carr.
“Yeah, it was. And while Pan-seared Chilean Sea Bass in a dashi-soy broth is good, it’s just…not satisfying. It’s kinda cold and vacant. There’s no heart in it. No soul.”
I quirk a smile and with a deep, resigning breath, I stand. And against my better judgment and the God-given sense I once possessed, I offer her the bend of my arm. “I’ll be sure to tell my Michelin star, highly paid chef.”
“Oh God! Please don’t do that!” Allison laces her arm through mine without provocation as if the act is completely innocent. As if I hadn’t nearly tasted her lips just this afternoon.
“No? I shouldn’t fire her for serving such cold, soulless food? Or maybe I should can my sous chef, Riku. Good kid. He’ll land on his feet eventually,” I jibe, as we stroll toward the main house.
“No, you shouldn’t. That would make you a dick. And I’m quite enjoying the non-dick you.”
I turn to her, my eyes wide in mock mortification. “Non-dick me?”
“No! No, not what I meant! I mean, the dickless you. No! Um, uh, you without the dickiness!” Ally covers her rapidly reddening face with her other hand and shakes her head. “Oh my God, I’m hopeless. Cut out my tongue now before I make an even bigger fool of myself.”
“You are oddly fascinated with dicks, Ally. Freud would have a field day with you,” I laugh, tears forming at my eyes. I pull her hand away from her face, and she quickly turns away. But not before I catch a bright smile and the sound of her cackling laugh. She has one of those laughs that make you laugh. It’s not sweet or dainty. It’s a raspy, full-on belly laugh. The kind that’s sometimes accompanied by a snort. I chuckle even harder, and shake my head in disbelief. Yeah…even her snorts are adorable.
And f*ck
me. I’m using words like adorable.
Our laughter tapers off as we make it into the house, and we silently shuffle towards the kitchen.