Page 15 of Erik
Erik
“Okay, no offense, but you should start keeping a case of beer in here if this is gonna be an every other night thing.” Frowning as I closed the refrigerator door, I held a bottle of tequila up as Natasha paused what she was doing to look at me. “I’ve never even heard of this brand of tequila.”
“My sister brought it back from France.” She shrugged, her nose crinkling slightly, and I glanced down at the bottle through narrowed eyes. “I don’t really like it— it’s kinda spicy. If you wanted beer, you should’ve brought some yourself. I don’t drink beer. I prefer white wine.”
“I can tell.” My gaze trailed to the tall, slim wine cooler on the counter, its six racks full of various bottles, but I tried not to judge. “I’ll bring a six-pack next time, then.”
Nodding hesitantly, Natasha went back to deveining her shrimp, and I stuck the bottle back in the fridge as my mind churned. What was I even doing here? She’d asked me to come over, but why? If she wanted to torture me with her story, it’d be a lot easier to do it through the bug, and she knew I would listen.
It wasn’t as if we really talked while we cooked, or when Natasha cooked and I just pretended to know something of what I was supposed to do.
“I like to cook. It clears my head. I wanted to go to culinary school, but it’s such a high stress job, and you’re not going to get any easy work. I like to cook on my own terms.” Breaking the silence, Natasha tossed a shrimp into the bowl beside her, and I wandered over to watch her, but not too close. She picked out the vein from the head and ripped the rest out so easily, with practiced movements, and she glanced over at me warily. “Want to try?”
“Your fingers are a lot thinner than mine— I’d probably squish the shrimp.” Holding up my palm, I curled my fingers absently, and a small, noiseless scoff escaped me. “I never had to cook. I was too busy learning how to be a good, little tin man.”
Surprise caught my breath when Natasha held her hand over mine, not touching but close enough to prickle against my palm, and my cheek twitched in agitation. Her fingers were so slender, her nails perfectly oval and shiny from shrimp slime, and I could fold them under my first knuckles. Time seemed to stop when I glanced up to find her big, brown eyes on mine, and my gut tightened when she pursed her lips thinly under loosely knit brows.
“You have big hands.” The murmur caressed up my jaw, and the hairs in my ears bristled even as a shadow passed through her eyes. “Not like them.”
My lip curled up in a slight snarl when Natasha looked down, and needles stuck up my arm in waves when she touched her pointer finger to the middle of my palm. Her breath hitched loudly, lower lip quivering as she sucked it between her teeth, and her cheeks paled a few shades. A dazed expression swept across her face, like she didn’t mean to but couldn’t take it back, and I ground my teeth hard. So soft, her fingertip glided up over my knuckles and the callouses I’d built up over years and years of gloves and guns and knives.
The moment was surreal, how something so ordinary and inconsequential could be so important.
“It feels good.” Natasha’s eyelids fluttered closed, and tension throbbed against the metal plate in my chest as my heart raced furiously. Gunk from the shrimp followed her touch, and I held my breath as I took her hand, acutely aware of how she immediately stiffened, the intense shift in the atmosphere. Placing her palm on my chest, I caught her wide, glazed eyes when they popped open, and she gulped nervously.
I saw it flicker in her eyes— her pupils tightening, her irises flashing black— and Natasha pulled her hand away with a hiss. Turning to the counter, she ducked her head to hide behind her hair, and I wanted to say something as her touch lingered, burning through my t-shirt. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she sniffed hard, and I almost winced at the harshness of the sound.
“U-um, yeah. Yeah, you . . . you’re probably right. Um, c-can you just . . . go over there.” Her voice trembled and sputtered, and I walked the short distance to the table to drop into a chair. Gazing at my palm, my mind scattered, I could only barely remember to breathe as awkwardness rested heavily on my shoulders. “H-ha-ha.”
“It’s okay, Natasha.” Tearing my eyes off my palm, a frown marred my face at the tight, high set of her shoulders, and she flipped her hair a little with a strangled sound. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No . . . n-no . . . I-I’m gonna . . . maybe Illya can come over. Her boyfriend was a Marine . . . yeah.” Still hiding her face, Natasha rushed out of the kitchen before I could stop her, and I inhaled a huge, heavy breath through flared nostrils and held it. My knee bounced furiously, and I drummed my fingers on my jeans as I flopped my head back to exhale hot, stale air.
Is she really gonna call her friend at two a.m.? Is her friend really gonna show up?Grimacing at the questions circling in my head, I clenched and released my jaw in aggravation.Does she not feel safe? Did I fuck up without even realizing I was fucking it up?
“You know, you don’t have to worry about it, Natasha. I’ll head out. It’s pretty late, anyway.” Speaking loudly, I stood up, and Natasha was pacing the living room with her phone tightly clutched in her hand. She paused, head whipping up to stare at me through apprehensive eyes, and I nodded firmly. “It’s okay. I should head home anyway.”
“No, you can stay, Erik.” Holding out her palms, Natasha seemed like she was pushing away rather than buckling down, and I frowned under furrowed brows. “Don’t leave.”
My palms tingled wildly, and I pursed my lips thinly as Natasha continued her pacing, rubbing the back of her neck with her free palm. There was no argument I could make, and she glanced at her phone anxiously as she grumbled to herself. She dialed a number, holding the phone to her ear and ignoring me completely, and awkwardness slithered up and down my spine.
“Hey! Hey, can you come down here really quick, okay? Please.” Relief slumped her shoulders, and Natasha nodded with a slight smile on her face. Stuffing my hands in my pockets to hide my clenched fists, I rolled my shoulders as the silence settled. This was undoubtedly the most uncomfortable situation I’d ever been in with a woman. This was worse than when I got hazed for being deployed on a ship a virgin.And that I never lived down. But this. . .
“Natasha!Natasha!”Finally, she stopped her pacing and looked at me, eyes widening at the slight rise in my voice, and I didn’t bother hiding my frown. “Natasha, you don’t have to wake someone up. We’ll just pick up later where we leave off now. Why are you so anxious?”
Hope budded in my chest when it seemed, for a second, that she heard me, but it was gone just as quickly at the soft knock on the door behind me. Natasha jumped with a little squeak, and I sighed hotly through my nose as she skirted a safe distance around me. Seating myself on the sofa, my knee bounced, and the same girl that was with Natasha at CVS shuffled into the room.
Illya had obviously been sleeping, and she paused when she saw me under heavy lids. Rubbing her orange locks, confusion flickered on her long face, and I scowled darkly when her slender brows rose high and sharp.
“What areyoudoing here? Natasha, what’s he doing here?”So, no one knows I’m here . . . except Carlyle, probably, considering this is his property.Illya turned to Natasha expectantly, and I bit back a sigh. “Natasha.”
“Come on, we’re making shrimp tacos. I meant to ask you to bring Theo, but—"
“His arm started hurting. He’ll be down in a little bit.” She sounded so annoyed, and Illya held Natasha by the shoulders to stare her dead in the face. Watching them interact was strange— it was almost like they didn’t know much about each other but were still important to one another somehow. “Okay, you can’t call us down at two in the morning for tacos. I appreciate being invited, but I was asleep, and I have a huge workload right now.”
“Sorry.” Natasha cast me a nervous glance, stepping closer to her friend to mumble something I couldn’t hear, and Illya turned to cast me a startled look.This was gonna be a long ass night.
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