Chapter 29
Ender
T he only reason I agreed to cook dinner is because it meant I got to be in the same room as Alara.
How pathetic is that? I can't bring myself to start a conversation with the girl because it brings up too many conflicting feelings, but I agreed to prepare a whole ass dinner.
Add that to the fact that I agreed to abstain from alcohol, and it's been a recipe for fucking disaster.
My mood swings are bouncing back and forth so hard I think I'm getting whiplash. I just couldn’t sit at that table anymore. I drop my dishes in the sink, hoping that the way I left the table didn't make her uncomfortable.
She startles me when I walk back into the room and catch sight of her scraping leftover food from one plate onto another. Her sweet voice puts me in a daze. "Do you mind if I help you clean up?"
I nod as I circle the table to stack the plates.
She grabs the empty salad bowls, following me closely as I make my way back to the kitchen, where the two of us place the dishes in the sink.
Her elbow brushes up against my arm, and my body tenses.
I want to lean into her and find comfort in her delicate skin, but I can't.
Keeping her at a distance is my own form of punishment. I don't get to enjoy her like Nix does because I had my chance and messed it all up. Her being here now is amazing, but it’s also karma’s sick way of sinking her teeth into me.
It's my fault she has amnesia. If I weren't such an asshole to her that night, maybe she would have gone home with me, and she would have never gotten hurt. At the very least, we would have found out she was in trouble.
"If you want to wash, I can dry," she offers with a soft smile.
I want to brush my fingers along the edge of her jaw and stare into those green eyes until the two of us are gasping for air. Instead, I nod, reaching into one of the drawers to grab her a towel.
"Thanks." She nudges me, and the contact makes my brain feel like scrambled eggs again.
"You don't have to help if you don't want to," I finally say.
"He speaks."
"Yes, I speak." I shake my head.
"I wasn't sure if you didn’t want to talk to me or if you were just always quiet."
I want to tell her that talking to her hurts.
It’s a reminder of the loss of not only the person she was, but also my brother.
Knowing what she means to me and not being able to apologize for the way I treated her is nothing less than torture.
I should be happy because we get a fresh start, but every moment feels like a lie, and I hate it.
"I don't make a habit of making friends with my bandmates’ playthings," I retort.
If I’m going to keep myself from confessing the truth, I’ll need to keep some distance between us. It may seem over the top, but it's the only way.
"You could try being less of a dickhead." She narrows her eyes.
"I could." I wash one of the plates, rinsing the soap off afterward. "I don't want you to think I want you around, though."
She snatches the plate from me, drying it off quickly. "Everyone wants me around. I'm a delight."
"Is that what you tell yourself?" I raise a brow, unable to keep the playfulness out of my tone.
"It's okay. You don't have to admit it now. I know I'll warm up to you."
"You don't have to help me with this. I can finish up."
"You said that already. You're stuck with me until it's done. Might as well be nice," she tosses back.
"I'll try my best."
"He does have a heart." She nudges me.
If only you knew, I think, wishing she would stop touching me and keep touching me at the same time.
"So, you and Nix. Is he nice to you?" That's all I can manage to ask. I don't want details, but the guy had better at least be respectful .
"He's been really great. I'm still trying to wrap my head around going on the tour with you all. It's a lot to consider, especially when people are extra difficult to be around." She tilts her head.
Fuck. I never thought she might not want to do this. I could try not to be a total asshole and still keep her at a distance. The possibility of her saying no to touring with us kind of changes things.
I let out a deep sigh. "I'll be nicer."
She laughs, taking the last plate from me and running the towel across it. "It's not just that. I'm still wondering why you even want me. I'm basically a nobody."
"You're somebody," is all I can say without breaking down completely. "Everyone starts out as somebody. It's what you do with that start that makes the difference."
"You're not worried about me messing up?"
"If you mess up, it'll be one of your songs, not ours." I shrug.
She eyes me cautiously before twirling the towel in the air and whipping it in my direction. The damp end connects with the side of my leg, making me jump as my hand rubs along the place of contact.
"What the hell was that for?" I grind out, and she tries it again.
This time, I jump out of the way before she can make contact and grab the towel from her.
"Careful, little siren. Don't dish out something you're not willing to receive in return. "
"Well then, don't be a turd." She huffs, trying to snatch the towel back.
"A turd?"
"Yeah. I said what I said. Don't be a turd."
What I want to say is if being a turd makes you playful, then I will do it time and time again, but that would send too many mixed signals. I have to keep things cut and dry between us. I settle with saying, "No promises."
"Fine. I meant to tell you earlier, but dinner was really good. Thank you for taking the time to cook."
"It was nice to have a group meal for once. And I owe you a thank you for helping me clean things up." I turn to her, trying not to get lost in her eyes again.
Her fingers touch my forearm, tracing the lines of my tattoo. It’s a bouquet of tulips that I got for her.
"I love tulips," is all she says.
I know you do. I think the words I'm dying to speak.
"I should go find Nix, unless you need help with something else."
"I'm good. Thanks again." I nod, watching as she scurries out of the room.
Knowing that she's going to sleep next to him tonight has me on edge. I want to grab a bottle, chug the whole thing, and pass out until morning, but I can’t. I'm trying to be a man of my word. Tonight will just be another night spent wishing I could be someone else.