Page 35 of You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty
“She’s going to regret it when she has to wake up at four thirty just to start heading out,” Lorraine said. “Have fun!”
Nasir grimaced. “Yeah, that’s going to suck.” He stood up and took his plates over to the sink. “I’m off to take a call. You good, Feyi? Is your meeting with Rebecca today?”
“Nah, day after tomorrow. She said I could come start install on the weekend.”
“Sweet. Catch you later?”
“Yeah, come find me.”
As Nasir left, Lorraine got up and followed him out, leaving Feyi and Alim alone together. Feyi glanced over as Alim sipped on his espresso and watched a hummingbird dive through the honeysuckle vines out in the courtyard. She wondered if she should say something, strike up a conversation, fight off the vague but annoying guilt she felt whenever Nasir left them alone together. Her initial attraction to Alim at the airport had been bad enough, but it had deepened into new shapes since their conversation in the midnight garden. Nasir had noticed when she began to withdraw, no longer kissing him the way she used to, but they’d talked about it during one of their trips into town.
“It’s just a little confusing being around your family,” Feyi had explained. “Like, if I’m here as your friend, then let’s let it be that for real. At least for now. I don’t feel comfortable sneaking around and making out in your dad’s house, you know?”
Nasir had squeezed her hand and grinned. “Do we get to make out when we’re back in Brooklyn?”
It was a good question. Feyi ran a thumb over his lower lip and let herself imagine for a moment that things could return to the way they were, like she’d never been on this island or felt anything for his father, like they could just pick up where they’d left off.
“We’ll totally get to make out,” she’d said, forcing herself to believe it was true.
Now she was sitting alone with Alim, watching the porcelain of his cup press against his lips, denting the soft dark flesh. It was too easy to get caught up in the details of his face, to wonder how his skin would feel under her fingertips, imagine his tongue—
“How’s your work going?” she blurted out, wincing as she heard herself. “I mean, I know the restaurant is on hiatus and all, but I was just wondering.”
Alim put down his cup, and Feyi watched his throat swallow, distracted.
“It’s going well,” he replied. “It’s one of my favorite times of the year. My staff and I get to reflect, experiment, discover new ideas. Taking time and space to do that is important.”
“Could I sit in on some of that? It sounds amazing.” Feyi heard her voice ask the question and cringed at how forward it was. Why on earth would she think someone like Alim Blake would want her getting in his way while he worked? It was ridiculous, but she’d already suggested it like an idiot, so there it was, floating in the air between them.
Alim tilted his head. “You would like to?”
Feyi blushed, looking for a safe way to backtrack out of this. “Don’t mind me, I’d probably just be in your way,” she started, but Alim interrupted her.
“I’d love to have you,” he said, and a small heat twisted in Feyi’s stomach as a quick fantasy flashed through her head—Alim in her bed, looking down at her with those swirling eyes of his. I’d love to have you, and she’d reach up to him because, yes, of course, a thousand times—
“Do you like to cook?” he was asking.
Feyi pulled herself together and forced out a laugh. “No, I love to eat. And watch other people cook.”
Alim chuckled, the sound warm and low through the kitchen. “Then we’re a perfect match,” he said.
Oh, the worlds of possible innuendo. Feyi kept a straight face. “You don’t mind being watched?” she asked, feeling a little mad and reckless, but Alim just looked thoughtful.
“Sometimes,” he said. “It’s not always serious in my kitchen; I find a certain level of playful alchemy useful. Another presence can help create that.”
“Yeah, but I know, like, nothing about cooking on the level that you do, come on.”
Alim’s eyes were steady and kind. “I like teaching,” he replied. “And if you love food, I’m sure you’re not as averse to cooking as you claim.”
“You and your Michelin stars are offering me a lesson?”
This time, Alim laughed out loud, and it rolled through Feyi’s bones like a tide. “Yes, Feyi. As much as you’d like to learn.”
Her name in his mouth sounded obscenely delightful. It was time for her to go. Feyi pushed her chair back from the table. “Can’t wait,” she said, and Alim’s eyes followed her as she stood up.
“Sunrise tomorrow?” he asked. “For the peak. I’ll knock on your door?”
Reckless. She could feel it in her thighs, a simmering warning. Alim was just being polite, hospitable. There was no invitation in his eyes, and Feyi knew she was the only one in danger. There was a reason she’d fled from the garden that night, and a certainty that going on an early-morning hike alone with this man was a terrible idea. And, because Feyi was Feyi and she was alive, there was no way she could say no.