Chapter 10 #2
“The first three to four months are the most dangerous ones in a pregnancy. I’d sleep better the next couple of nights if you were here and I knew you were safe and well—and I need my rest before I hurtle a star cruiser through space at warp speeds, don’t you think?”
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
“There’s a bedroom on the top floor. It’s yours for the duration.”
“Fine,” Kenji snapped. “I’ll sleep up there.”
“Good,” Qylar snapped back. “I’ll go make the bed for you.”
“Great,” Kenji barked. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Qylar growled before walking towards the stairs and disappearing up them.
There was a knock at the door soon after Qylar left. Assuming it was the food, Kenji walked to the door and opened it, forgetting he wasn’t covering up the swell of his belly in the shirt he was wearing.
The delivery guy’s gaze went straight to it and then back up to his face. He handed the two bags over before spinning, shaking his head, and mumbling, “Fucking San Francisco, man,” under his breath and walking away.
Kenji closed the door and carried the bags to the island. While waiting for Qylar, he drew the food containers out, the aroma wafting out of them making his mouth water. After he had them lined up on the island, he went in search of silverware and something to drink.
By the time he’d opened a ginger ale and found the forks, Qylar returned downstairs.
“I thought I smelled dinner,” Qylar said, eyeing the many containers. “It came fast, too. Another reason I love that place.”
Kenji offered a fork.
“Heathen,” Qylar said, frowning—though there’d been humor in his tone. He walked back towards the drawer where Kenji had found the forks and drew out chopsticks. After he pulled down two large, wide bowls, he returned to the island and opened the food boxes.
Kenji watched as Qylar assembled a bowl with a spoonful of this and that from each box. Once it was full, he slid it and a set of chopsticks in front of Kenji.
“I can’t use chopsticks very well,” Kenji murmured.
“Takes practice,” Qylar said before fixing himself a bowl.
Kenji took the fork, pointedly staring at Qylar, and sat down.
Qylar lifted a brow, shaking his head. Once he’d filled his, Qylar sat down at the island beside Kenji and dug in. They sat silently eating for a few minutes.
“This is pretty tasty,” Kenji said.
“One of my favorites in the city,” Qylar said without looking Kenji’s way. “Maybe tomorrow we can go have tacos down at the beach.”
“Please tell me you mean Leo’s Taco Truck,” Kenji said.
“Where else? Best tacos in the city,” Qylar said.
“I’ve been craving them for weeks but haven’t had time to go get any.”
“Well, I’ll make sure you have all the tacos you and the babies can eat tomorrow.”
Kenji peeked at Qylar from the corner of his eye.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that,” Qylar said, his voice low. “I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t trying to pressure you, I swear.”
“I’m not ready to be a father, Qylar.”
“I would never force you to have children you’re not ready for. It’s cruel for all involved.” Qylar sighed. “If I’m able to have kids, I want them to grow up in a house filled with love. Not resentment and hostility.”
“Agreed,” Kenji said.
“So, please… ignore what I said.”
“Consider it ignored.”
“Thank you,” Qylar replied.
They continued to eat for the next few minutes without speaking, the only sound the clink of chopsticks or a fork against their bowls. The next time Kenji looked over at Qylar, a piece of noodle hung in his overgrown beard. Without thinking, he reached over to pluck it out.
Qylar turned, eyeing him as he grasped the bit.
“Sorry. You just have something stuck in your briar patch.”
Qylar ran a hand down it. “I need to shave. I’ve been a bit lazy lately.”
Kenji stared up into Qylar’s face. “I kind of like a beard on you. It would be better cleaned up, of course.”
“Do you think I should keep it? Cleaned up, of course.”
He’s so fucking hot, even when he’s a mess. “If you want to keep it. It doesn’t matter to me. It’s your face.”
“Maybe I’ll trim it up later tonight and see if it gets your approval.”
“You don’t need my approval for anything,” Kenji said.
Qylar held his stare. “Noted.”
Kenji went back to his bowl. “But it would look nice, I think.”
Qylar chuckled softly beside him. “Okay.” He pointed to a spot in Kenji’s bowl he’d so far left untouched. “You need to try that. It’s the best of anything they have.”
“I don’t know… I’m not usually a fan of truffles and I can smell them in that.”
“More for me,” Qylar said, reaching over into Kenji’s bowl with his chopsticks.
“Hold it.” Kenji knocked his hand away. “I suppose I could try a little bite… just to see.” He dipped his fork in and pulled out a tiny amount.
He placed it on his tongue. After a second, he sat up straighter.
“That’s amazing.” He took another forkful and almost moaned at how good it tasted.
“Fuck… I hate truffles but this is incredible.”
Qylar leaned over the island and dragged a container closer. He ladled out a little more of the mushroom truffle rice into Kenji’s bowl.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Qylar murmured, never looking at him.
Every time he’d been with Qylar, the man had rarely looked away. Kenji didn’t like that he was now. “Are you so upset with me that you can barely look at me right now?”
Qylar stared down at his bowl. “I’m trying to be respectful.”
“Ignoring me is respectful?”
“Kenji, I want to sit and stare at you all night, but if I do that, I’ll get in trouble for being too much.”
Kenji didn’t know how to respond to that. He lowered his fork beside his bowl. When he rose from the stool, his foot somehow got hooked between the island, Qylar’s foot, and the stool itself. He tipped over—and Qylar caught him before he fell and pulled him up against his chest.
Their gazes locked, heat simmering between them.
Kenji struggled for his next breath, his lips parting on a sigh.
I should pull away.
But I don’t want to.