Page 42 of Ashes

But somewhere deep down, I knew I was lying to myself.

Once he was done, he set them to rest on a plate with a paper towel underneath. After that, he grabbed the small saucepan from the stove and poured whatever he’d made into a cup. Then he made his way over, set the plate in front of me, and slid me a mug of what I realized was hot chocolate.

“Thank you,” I murmured, trying to push away the unwanted feelings his care and the ring invoked inside.

He hummed in response. Without another word, he went back to the counter and started doing the dishes.

I focused my attention on the food in front of me, my stomach rumbling at the mouthwatering smell. I picked ayaniquequesfrom the plate and dipped it into the chocolate,which was the best part, and brought it to my mouth.

I almost moaned at the taste.

Oh, coño, esto esta buenísimo.

I would have never guessed this was his first time making it if I hadn’t seen him research how to make them. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was a quick study.

I was almost done with the lastyaniquequesright as he dried the last plate and placed it back in one of the cabinets. I got up to walk to the sink when a jolting pain shot from my lower back.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. I gripped the edge of the counter to hold myself up, the other landing on my lower back.

This day just keeps getting better.

Jamal ran to me. “Sienna, what’s wrong?” His voice had an edge of panic.“Are you hurt?” His hands were hovering over me, not sure if he should touch me or not.

“I’m fine,” I gritted out as I rubbed over the tense muscles. Tears sprang to my eyes at the spasms of pain rolling up my back.

“You’re clearly not fine. Let me see,” he demanded, his voice harsher this time.

“I told you I wasfine. I just need to let it pass.” I tried to stand tall to prove to him I was okay, but that wasn’t the greatest of ideas because I moaned in pain.

Being doted on wasn’t something I was used to, so I didn’t know how to react to his worry.

He muttered something in French under his breath.

“Stop being so stubborn and let me help you,” he huffed out.

My protest died on the tip of my tongue when he gently wrapped an arm around my waist and the other under my knees, lifting me so I was now cradled in his arms.

I whooshed out a breath. “What are you doing?” I asked, surprised.

He ignored me and walked toward the stairs that led upstairs. I instinctively wrapped my hands around his neck to avoid falling, but I knew he wouldn’t let that happen. He carried me up the stairs, but instead of veering right toward my room, he turned left.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Would you just please stop arguing with me for once?” He pushed the door of his bedroom open with his foot and walked us into the dimly lit room.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been here, but the memory of this morning hadn’t exactly made me eager to return. He hadn’t apologized for his earlier outburst, especially when I was just trying to help him, but I wasn’t about to bring it up again.

So I chose the easier route. Fighting him.

“I will talk if I wish to talk.”

He ignored me once again and carefully placed me at the edge of his bed and propped a few pillows behind my back. Then he walked into his en suite bathroom.

I heard the sound of a faucet being turned on and a fewminutes later, the smell of lavender drifted past the confines of the bathroom and slowly enveloped his bedroom.

The sound of water filling the tub eventually stopped and Jamal walked out with a large white robe in hand. He dropped to his haunches in front of me, placing the bathrobe on the bed right next to me.

“Are you able to undress yourself?” he asked, his eyes locking with me.