Chapter 13: Chapter 13

It was silent between us as I raced through Mainland bridge. My heart was pounding and my knuckles were aching.

"Stop. Stop the car, please." She whispered.

My heart crumpled up and I gulped. Something was fluttering it's worried wings in my throat. I parked the car by the side of the road and she kicked her side of the door open and stomped out. High heels, clicking on the asphalt.

She went to sit on the hood of the car, muttering the words, what am I doing? What am I doing? It's happening all over again. Lord Jesus, stop fucking with me!

I sighed, getting out of the car. I grabbed her bottle of whiskey from the backseat and joined her.

She didn't acknowledge me.

"Hey." I nudged the bottle towards her and she smiled gratefully at me.

"Hi." She uncorked it, easily and took a swig from the bottle, her face, scrunching up in displeasure. "Eww! Why do I take this shit?"

I chuckled, took the bottle from her and drank from it.

I cringed at the scalding hot, stinging aftertaste at the back of my throat, my lips, burning. It tasted like fire and gasoline. I made a mental note to not take it again.

"I'm sorry. That guy. We... he-"

"He's an asshole that doesn't know how to talk."

She bit her lip and looked away from me, fishing in her purse and pulling out a packet of cigarettes with trembling hands. "I'm sorry. I need this." Was all she said, as the scent of burning nicotine infiltrated the air.

"It's okay." I was really okay with it.

It was her coping mechanism. The same way, sex had become my coping mechanism. They were vices. Beautiful vices.

We stayed like that for a while, she was taking casual swigs from the bottle as we watched stars shoot past the sky, twinkling in and out of existense. We were close to the Offshore border. Roughly thirty minutes from the vacation house.

"Well...", She laughed awkwardly, after a few minutes. She was calmer now, nicotine, spreading through her system. Her vice was doing it's job. "That was horribly... Embarrassing."

"It was."

"And you're not disgusted by me?"

"I'm not."

She sighed, inhaling through the cigarette stick and exhaling, rubbing her hair. She leaned back and sighed tiredly, shaking her head, murmurs of disbelief staccatoed the air. "I've done some stupid shit for money."

I closed my eyes.

Don't get close. Don't get close. She's just a distraction.

But I said, "you know who I am. Who are you?"

She laughed dryly, tossing away her finished cigarette stick. "Oh, I'm anything really. Scum. Trash. Whore. Pick your choice."

"You're joking." I chuckled.

She sighed, shaking her head. "I wish."

"I'm sorry you think that's who you are."

She bit her lip and hid behind her purple curtain of hair. "Trust me. You don't want to know me."

"I think I do."

She sighed again. The cool wind was caressing our faces. Below us, the ocean rose and fell and made swooshing noises. And the moon had never looked so beautiful. Scattering moondust like glitter all over the city.

"My mum... She used to say I like building sandcastles in the stars."

"Don't you mean, in the sky?"

She smiled, pearly white teeth flashed at me for a second. And if nostalgia could have a face, it'd be hers. "Sandcastles in the stars. She knew what she was saying. I'd pretend I was this really popular popstar and I'd hold a spoon to my mouth and sing along to Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift.

"Stop daydreaming! She'd shout at me. Go to school. Find a job. A real job. You won't go anywhere in this country without connection. We don't have connection. All you have is your certificate, so make it count. I'd tell her that she was archaic and ancient. That things have changed. That with social media and talent, a record label was bound to notice me."

She had a gentle smile on her dark red lips. She laughed softly. It was a sad laugh and she was shaking her head. "I was stupid. So so stupid. I thought it was easy. Write a song. Record it. Promote it and bam! Stardom. I forgot this was real life. And real life is a bitch to people like me."

I held my breath at the pain in her voice.

She drew her legs up, pressing it to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, turning to face me. "How does it feel to have money? To be able to afford whatever you want, whenever you want. To not lose your dignity just to afford to eat. To afford to send your sibling to school."

"Y... You 'work' to send your siblings to school?"

"Sibling. One. A sister. She's the sweetest thing ever and it's a joined effort. My older brother and I see what we can do to make ends meet and help out our mum while she pays off debts. It's tiring but we make do with what we have."

My heart skipped a beat. Then started again, beating faster and faster. "But what about your father?"

She glared at me. She was angry, but not at me. At the world. At a memory. The memory of what could have been. "He fucking died, your highness." Dipped her head at me, sarcastically.

My throat constricted, the proverbial lump wouldn't go down. "Died? How?"

"Robbery gone wrong. He was the poor police officer that stupidly had to patrol a crime scene. Shot in the head, twice. That's what the papers said. I wasn't even up to four when he died."

I gulped, my hands, clammy. "B...but, they usually compensate their families. Their wives. In the case of an accident, so that the family won't struggle."

She looked at me like I was stupid. Then sighed, shaking her head. "This is Nigeria."

I closed my eyes trying to make sense of it all, reeling at the unfairness. "It's not right. It's not fair."

She had tightened her hand into fists now. Her breathing was erratic. "Life's not fair to people like me. People like me are meant to sit down and shut up and clap really hard when people like you talk. People like me are nothing but scum and ashes and dusts. Weightless, meaningless and unimportant. I'm no one. I'll never be anyone. You don't want to know a nobody. Let's just get this night over with."

I found myself staring at her face and I felt something in me squeeze painfully. There was a metaphorical elephant, standing on my chest, pressing down on me. I shut my eyes at the pain, squeezing until I saw stars.

She was different shades of dark, this girl. She was tearing down her masks and facades and false cheers and the expression on her face was tearing at my heart. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry you think you're nothing. I'm sorry your life has reduced you into thinking you can never be anything."

She wouldn't look at me, her fists only inches away from me. I covered it with my palm and she looked at me, shocked and confused. I squeezed gently, my voice, conveying my pain. "You're going to be something. You're going to be everything."

Her face broke into a soft smile. It felt like the moon had peeked out from a cloud, glowing gently on me.

She shifted towards me, wrapped her arm around my torso and rested her cheek on my chest. I heard the thank you in her actions. The appreciation, radiating from her. I involuntarily engulfed her in a hug, my chin on her hair, her cherry scent, invading my nostrils. It was a very intimate position. To be close to someone like this... It felt nice. It felt right... I was comfortable with it. I felt peaceful like this.

Is this what it feels like to have someone that wants you as much as you want her? Peace?

I stopped in my tracks, hating myself for my naivete and stupidity.

Does she even want me? What if I'm reading all her signs wrongly? What if she doesn't even like me back. Does that mean I like her? No, I like Asa. I love Asa. I'm just trying to forg-

"Do you always smell this good?" She sniffed my shirt, pressing her nose to my chest and inhaled deeply. "I swear, this is like heroine or something."

I laughed at the metaphor.

"Can I call you Z?" She said the 'Z' as 'Zee', the American English and not 'Zed', the British English.

A smile was tugging at my lips. "Where did you get that?"

"Aleikzandre? Zandre? Zee? I know it's uncreative, but I like it."

I chuckled, rubbing her, embracing her warmth. "And what can I call you."

She froze. She actually froze, tearing herself away from me. She sat back up, folding her arms and wouldn't look at me. "I've told you. I'm unimportant. I'm no one. I really just want to forget who I am tonight. Can you have the decency to play along?"

I sighed, already missing her warmth, then chastised myself for missing her warmth. "I'm not a very decent guy"

She laughed softly, rubbing her arms and I started thinking if she missed my warmth too. "You can call me Ivy."

"Huh?" I wasn't expecting that.

"Ivy!" She beamed at me. "Y'know, that sexy supervillain in Batman?"

For the second time today, I was confused as hell.

She shrieked, her palm, slapping her mouth. "My nigga, you don't know Batman?" She whispered, horrified.

I shook my head.

Her face twisted into a sad pout. "You must have had a fucked up childhood, you poor, poor child." She reached out and ruffled my hair, pulling on the curls. "Do you know Superman, green lantern, teen Titans?"

"No. No. Negative."

She looked at me like she couldn't believe me. "Wonder woman?"

I sighed, shaking my head.

"So, what did you do as a child?"

I closed my eyes, thinking back to my time at the palace back in Sokoto. "I... I read a lot. My dad," I cringed at the word, at the bitter taste it left in my mouth. "He took me out a lot with my other brothers. The girls stayed at home and learned to cook and sew."

"Awfully misogynistic of him."

I sighed, leaning back against the car, my legs, stretched out in front of me as I remembered my childhood years. "It was a nice life. Usually. I learned to ride a horse before I turned six."

"So... Why did you leave?"

I froze. Looked at her. She had a curious look in those foxy eyes of hers. "My mum, she had to leave."

"Why?"

"It started getting harder for her to stick around... She wasn't legally married to him. She wasn't even traditionally married to him. The other wives started treating her badly because she was my dad's favourite. They started treating my sister and I badly too."

"So you guys ran away."

"It was a toxic environment. I'm glad we left."

"So... You stay in Offshore now?"

"Nah." I laughed. "My best-" i caught myself. What right do I have to call him my best friend now?

Fuck you! And fuck your friendship!

I sat up, pain flaring in my chest. "This guy from school... We used to be close " -she didn't say anything, only observed at me closely- "he organized a vacation trip for all of us. We're just staying there for the Christmas break."

"Wow." She whispered. "Does your mum know?"

I closed my eyes, the dull ache never leaves me. The panic and anxiety. The guilt. The pain.

Get over it, Aunty Aisha had told me two days after her burial. People die everyday. She's with Allah now. It is every mother's dream to die before her child.

I remembered everything. Waiting at the school library until it was past eight. Mum had told me not to go out that day. My sister came to pick me from the bustop instead. She was crying her eyes out. Couldn't see properly, she ran stop signs, nearly colliding with other cars. When we reached home, she wouldn't talk to me. Wouldn't even look at me.

I heard from the news the next day. Mum had died in a car crash. She was going to come pick me from the library, a drunk trailer crashed into her shiny Porsche I used to love. It was all over the news. My disobedience had cost her her life.

My sister left after the burial. Everyone left after the burial.

I squeezed my fists, there were tears in my eyes, the way there usually was whenever I remembered everything that happened.

She sucked in a shaky breath, swallowed, like she understood what was wrong with me. For the second time tonight, she wrapped her arms around me. She rested her cheek in my hair and I shook in her arms, forcing the tears, the pain, the emotions back in.

I can't. I can't cry here. I can't cry in front of her.

But she was rubbing my back, murmuring softly into my hair. "It's okay. It's okay, Zee. It's okay." She kept kissing my hair and whispering gently over and over again.

I felt my bones unknitting, my ribs, shattering, my shoulder blades giving way, tired of holding itself together, until I broke apart in her arms.

A broken pile of bones in the arms of a stranger.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Chapter 2e: Clout Chaser

"Well, that was horribly embarrassing."

"Stop stealing my words." She pinched my arm, then kissed the part of me she pinched.

I laughed softly.

We were lying back now, staring at the night sky. Her head was on my chest, my arm, lazily around her and she was playing with my diamond wristwatch, tracing the chain, feeling the dial, twisting the knob, with a childish fascination that made me smile. I felt so peaceful this way. I didn't want it to end.

After I had completely embarrassed myself before her, we laid back and started talking about anything and everything. We talked and talked and talked, from politics to music, she argued that my choice of music was too proper and academic, so she proceeded to fill up my phone with albums of her Zayn Malik and other sugary pop songs that just weren't my type.

I liked Sia, Adele, Celine Dion. They were quickly becoming classics. But she introduced me to Koffee, BTS, Selena Gomez, I decided I liked her single: 'Lose you to find me'. It resonated well with me. I had tried to stomach Cardi B for her sake, but decided I'd delete her entire album when she wasn't looking.

It was a torturing moment for us, but we ended up trading songs and she decided she could like Burna Boy, after listening to his latest album. She vehemently hated my Fela and Bob Marley collection and refused to even listen to them.

"Their music is more about their lyrics and less of the beat. They're trying to send a message. Don't you want to be culturally conscious."

"Abeg, keep your cultural consciousness to yourself. I like my Cardi."

Oh well. Her loss.

We talked about our different religions. She was born a Christian and I was born a Muslim. We had both defected along the way. I couldn't remember the last time I prayed to Allah. The last time I went to a mosque...

She hadn't prayed to God in a long time, either. It felt like I was talking to the ceiling and wondering if anyone's listening. I stopped deceiving myself a long time ago, she had said.

Mine was a different case. I believed in Allah... I just... Forgot to talk to him all the time.

And between the both of us, I didn't know who was worse.

"How much is this wristwatch worth?" She suddenly asked, quietly, jeering me out of my thoughts.

Huh. I blinked the dreamy haze out of my eyes. "If I tell you, you'll be tempted steal it from me."

"I was going to steal it before I asked. Consider this a heads-up."

I didn't know whether to take her seriously or not. "What if I give it to you?"

She went silent for a moment, then shook her head. "I'd rather keep my dignity."

"By stealing it?"

"Yes."

I laughed softly, deciding to humour her. "I'll turn a blind eye to that."

She wouldn't do it, would she?

She remained silent, her legs were entwined with mine, she had claimed my entire body, relaxing on me and feeling so comfortable while doing it. Like she was mine and I was hers.

Something had changed between us. It was a tiny change, a shift in our internal energies. Our souls had connected on a cosmic level. I suddenly felt more closer to her than I've ever been with anyone else. No one had ever seen me cry.

Except Asa.

"Would you like to be my Cinderella?"

"I'm no princess, Amir."

"You can be my princess, Asa."

I inhaled a tight breath, closed my eyes and thought of the past, recalling that dreadful night I had confessed to Asa. I had cried and cried and cried, reeling at the pain of being rejected to my face. It felt like my heart was screaming and fire was burning holes in my lungs. I had a panic attack that night, screaming and crying and struggling to get my lungs to work. It felt like I was trying to breathe through a tiny straw, like all the oxygen suddenly got shut out, like my lungs were collapsing and I had felt dizzy and in pain and I had passed out on the floor of my bathroom, trying to get to my medicine cabinet.

I remembered how tight my chest had felt, my lungs on fire,  my heart, pounding out of control, tears, streaming down my face. I cringed now, recalling how low I had sunk. How much lower I kept sinking, everytime she picked Kam over me. I thought I'd to die that first time.

You're such a goddam pest!

How do I get rid of you?!

Asa's rejection had made me feel like I was nothing after all. Like I had nothing else to fight for. Like, I was hanging on to sanity by a loose thread and she had taken a scissor and cut through it and watched me fall into oblivion.

I exhaled, opened my eyes and looked at my present. I had opened up to a stranger. I have never opened up to anyone like that before. Not Kam. Not Dave... Certainly not Jordan. I didn't even know her real name... I didn't want to. Knowing her real name will make her feel less like a dream and more like reality. It'd make her take a firm form in my memory. I'd know her for who she really was. She'd lose her mystery, her allure, her magic.

Magical. That's what tonight was. I've never felt so at peace with myself. In my skin. There were no voices. No loud noises. No racing hearts. I was at peace. My soul was at peace with hers. Like, I had suddenly found a home.

And the way she was holding me. Her idle hand had left my wristwatch now and was tracing circles on my chest. My breath hitched at the tickle of her touch, my nerves, excited and alert.

I stroke her hair, gently, softly. I never knew I could be this... Touchy. But it felt nice. I didn't feel awkward or forced. My body just moved on its own. My hands liked touching her. Feeling her. Knowing she was there.

But for how long?

By tomorrow morning, she'd be gone. Probably before I wake up. No one wants to deal with the awkwardness that comes the morning after a one night stand.

But what if it doesn't have to be a one night stand? What if she can be more than a distraction? What if-

Fucking think, Amir! Rashid's voice suddenly bellowed in my head. She's a lagos girl. They too dey open eye. Gold diggers. Don't trust them! They know what they're doing. Just smash and pass and don't catch feelings.

I had looked at him like he was stupid. What idiot falls in love with a one night stand?

I was slowly becoming that idiot.

My mind wandered, thinking back to the guy at the grocery store.

I've done some stupid shit for money, she had said.

Did she sleep with him for money? Was he an ex?

...

How many more guys have she slept with for money? I didn't know I had said that out loud.

"None." Her voice was soft. Firm.

I blinked at her. She was practically lying on top me now, her chin on my chest, looking at me with a calm expression.

"You asked how many guys I hooked up with for money. I answered, none." She clarified, her eyes wouldn't leave mine. She was challenging me with them. Challenging me to see the truth in them.

I didn't avoid her gaze. The truth was plain, as bright as day. Either she had perfected the art of lying seamlessly, or she was telling the truth.

"But you said-"

"It's a long story." She sighed tiredly, resting her cheek back on my chest. "I was desperate. I still am. But I don't fuck for money."

"You'd rather rob?"

I could hear the smile in her voice. "Maybe."

"So... Who's he?"

It took a while for her to speak up. "I met him at a club... you see, I move out a lot. When social media wasn't working out for me, i decided to hit the clubs, suck up to the rich, look out for prominent connections."

It was quiet between us. She was still tracing idle circles on my wrist. It was pleasant. Soothing. A reaction I was starting to really like.

"He's a club promoter. They pay him to make appearances in clubs around town. I was at the club that night and he noticed me. Invited me to join his group of friends in the VIP section. I gladly did. He seemed very interested in me. He asked me a lot of questions about who I am, what I like... What I want. He saw right through me. He knew under all the borrowed designers and heavy makeup, I was just a hungry lagos girl with big dreams and bigger ambitions. He capitalized on that."

She took a shaky breath and exhaled, the defeated sigh in her voice, twisted my lungs. "We exchanged numbers. He called all the time. Took me out a lot. He told me he liked me. He wanted to help me. I've heard that line over and over and over again, usually from rich men old enough to be my father... But he felt different. I wanted to believe he was different. I've never fallen in love before. I don't know how that shit works, but I knew I liked him enough. He promised he'd make me blow. I gave him my demo records. All of them. He said he liked them. Played my songs to his friends and they loved it. I had never felt so accomplished in my entire life."

She waited. One beat. Two beats. Twenty four beats. "Long story short, I slept with him."

I didn't know how to feel. Between what I should feel and what I was feeling, there was a long gap. A gaping hole, yawning and stretching.

"I liked him. He was attractive. Nice to me. Believed in my dreams and had some money to his name. I thought it'd be the beginning of a relationship for us."

You poor, poor girl. I held her tighter. Didn't want to say anything because I didn't trust my voice to not crack and shatter.

"Big mistake, as you can see. He stopped picking my calls. He didn't want to see me anymore. Feigned excuses anytime I called with a different number... As if that wasn't enough, he stole my songs, sold my beat, took my lyrics.

"I was furious for days. I attacked blindly. Called him out on twitter for stealing my work. He laughed at me. Called me a clout chaser. People took his side, everyone saw me as the angry Nigerian lady that just wanted to use drama to achieve fame. I received death threats, rape threats, from people that knew him. He ruined my reputation. Destroyed my name. I changed my look, thought of changing my identity. I can't tell you my name because you may know someone that knows someone that knows me as a desperate clout chaser. For some stupid reason, I actually care what you think of me."

I nodded now, understanding. That was why she looked so different from the first time I saw her. I suddenly wish I had given that guy more than a solid right hook.

"I didn't know how to fight back. I didn't have anyone... The only person I had was Corey."

"Your neighbour."

"The one and only." Her fingers continued their idle path. Past my wrists, resting on my palm. She traced my fingers with hers, carefully treaded them together until our fingers were entwined. That single action... I felt like a super hero. Like the brightest star in the universe.

"Corey had warned me not to get too close to the guy. That rich guys prey on desperate girls. I wanted to believe he was wrong. After shit happened, he was full of I-Told-You-Sos. Annoyed the fuck out of me. I'm not talking to him at the moment." She exhaled a tired breath, her body, lax, against mine. Her fingers were snuggled in mine, her cherry scent was something I'd never forget. She had wrapped her essence around my soul.

"Few days ago, he started calling me. Telling me sweet things. He'd chat me up and start telling me sweet things. Rubbish things." She growled now. "That bastard. I'll never forget what he did. One day, one day, I'll become something. I won't be a nobody anymore. And I'll come back and ruin him. I'll destroy him. I'll make him pay."

She was breathing hard, her chest, rising and falling angrily against mine. For the first time, I saw her for who she really was. She was angry. She was strong. Unbreakable. She was ready to fuck up anybody that dared step on her toes.

She was beautiful.

She was formidable.

She was goddamn perfect.

I squeezed her hand, gently, tenderly. She looked at me, her eyes were warm coffee and hot chocolate. Dark. Dark. Wet and red from tears and anger.

Beautiful, beautiful, perfect.

I took her chin, between my forefinger and thumb, my left hand, cradling her cheek, tracing softly on her skin.

And when her lips met mine, she exploded into stardusts and sandcastles and wishing wells and everything ephemeral and nostalgic and magical.

She kissed me. Fucking hell, she kissed me and my lips hurt, shoving anger and fire down my lungs.

If shooting stars had a flavour, they'd taste like her, I'm sure. She tasted like raw strength, determination, powerful ambitions and devastating dreams and paralyzing heartbeats and the fear of being broken and battered again and again and gambling with her heart, once more, just this once.

Her hands went to my hair, fingers grazing my scalps, we were pulling and pushing against each other and I didn't want to let go, or lose this fight, matching her passion and quelling her rage, tracing the seam of her lips with my tongue, gentle, soothing, healing. I explored her mouth, turning her anger to sweetness, dulling the embers of wrath. I kissed her and she kissed me and we both kissed until our kisses turned soft. My hands around her waist, brushing her smooth skin, her hands in my hair, gripping my curls.

I traced her chin, pressed a soft kiss on her lips, another on her forehead.

And she just stared at me, breathing heavily through her swollen, slightly parted lips.

Her lipstick was ruined. I grinned.

She suddenly hugged me tight. Fierce. Almost like she was afraid of letting go. For the second time tonight, I heard the appreciation in her gestures and I returned the hug, generously, nestling my face in her hair.

We stayed like that for a while, trapped in another universe, where time was meaninless and space was non-existent and I didn't want this moment, this forever moment, right here, to end.

Her stomach suddenly rumbled angrily and I remembered we were supposed to be heading home by now.

"Let's go," I told her, whispering into her hair, inhaled deeply. She really smelled nice. I didn't want to let her go.

She only hugged me tighter, her heartbeat, slamming against mine. "I want to stay like this for a while. You're so soft."

I chuckled. "We have to go. We can cuddle in my bed."

The moment I said it, all the nerves in my body froze. I suddenly remembered who she was. Who I was. What I was doing. What we were doing.

The realization that she was just a distraction for the night slammed into me at full force.

Simplistically, a one night stand.

I had forgotten that.

It seemed like she remembered too, because she extracted herself from me, jumped down from the car hood. I sat up slowly, looking at her, she was staring at me with an indecipherable look in her dark, dark eyes. "I'm not..." she cleared her throat. "I'm not looking for love."

My heart had a whiplash, a sudden tremor that made me shudder.

This is good. This is good. This is what I wanted, right? No strings attached. Just a distraction. I love Asa, I will always love Asa.

"Neither am I." I whispered back, fire and ice, fighting in my chest.

Lies! My heart screamed at me. Lies! My soul was crying.

She looked at her feet now, suddenly growing shy. "So... Okay, then. Let's go."

Stay.

_

"I can't believe this, you live here?!" She whisper-screamed in that high-pitched voice of hers.

"Just for the holidays, yeah." I chuckled, securing the car lock and walking into the house with her, lugging all our shopping items from the backseat.

She stopped to stare at everything until we reached the kitchen where she sat at one of the bar stools, claiming an entire tub of ice cream.

"So, this friend of yours, turned enemy-"

I lifted my head to look at her. "I never said we turned enemies."

She waved me off, lazily, rolling her eyes and licking vanilla ice cream from her spoon. "What does he do? Like, how did he get the house?"

"His grandfather is into oil. His mum is a neurosurgeon with a PhD."

"How about his dad?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone that doesn't want anything to do with me." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. It was only after I said it before I realized how bitter I sounded.

She looked at me with a broken expression. "I didn't say that."

"I know... It's just..." Fuck, what am I thinking?! What am I doing?!

She whispered. "Look, you're nice, you're rich, you're cool. I like that, but you're... You're too much for me."

She must have read the confused expression on my face. "You're too cool. Too rich. Too nice. You're perfect. I'm nowhere near your level. I'd stink beside you."

I looked away, emptying the packet of noodles into the pot, trying to do something to distract me from the siren, speaking to me.

She wasn't done.

"I just don't want to hope too much, okay. We exist in entirely different worlds. In real life, we don't mix and I accept that. Tomorrow, you may see me and look the other way. You won't want anything to do with me. You may pick another girl to 'distract' you." She made air quotes, "and I'm cool with that. I'm just trying to protect my heart, okay? My life's not going to turn out like a fucking Cinderella story and I want to find peace in that fact."

I looked at her. I didn't know what to say. What to think. And I was only sure of one thing.

My heart wouldn't stop hurting.

"I'm sorry, Zee. I'm don't do love. I tried it once and look where it got me."

I gulped. "It's fine. It's okay."

What was I thinking? What the fuck was I thinking?! What is wrong with me?!

I went back to chopping onions, shredding cheese, skimming milk, trying to distract myself from her presence.

It was quiet between us. For once, it was quiet in my head.

What exactly do I want from this girl?

But Asa-

I sighed, cracking the eggs, deciding I needed a long, long sleep.

Soft hands suddenly snaked around my waist. I stood still, electricity, zapping through my entire body, frying my brain in the process.

She kissed my back. I gasped, as if I just got electrocuted, my nerves, coiling in pleasure-pain. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my shoulder, my neck. I closed my eyes, not wanting to fall. Not wanting to sink. Not wanting to drown.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, breathing uneasily through my teeth.

"Focus on the food." She murmured, nibbling on my earlobe, nipped, sucked, stroked with her tongue.

I exploded.

Turned around to face her. She had a satisfied smirk on her lips.

"Stop that." I was breathing uneasily, my hands were shaking.

Her smirk widened into a grin, she stepped even closer to me, closer, closer, until her body was flush against mine. Soft hands circled my neck, bringing me impossibly close to her. Pressed her lips against my ear. Whispered. "Make me." Rubbed her soft body against mine.

I snapped. Lost control. Hungrily took her mouth, gripped her hips, lifted her up and placed her on the marble top. Her legs circled around my waist as she accepted my mouth like an offering, taking what she wanted and giving me back with twice as much passion.

"Don't." I whispered against her lips, trembling. I rested my forehead against hers, panting.

"Don't what?"

"Don't make me want you."

"I want you."

Fuck.

I stopped, speechless.

"But I'm hungry, too. Let's eat first." She gently pushed me away, hopped off the marble top. "I'll make the omelette." She declared. "You make the noodles."

I was fighting a smile on my lips, watching her. She held a spatula in her hand, tied her hair up.

"Yes ma'am."

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