Chapter 16
ALEX
This Side of Paradise | Coyote Theory
Maggie was worth every penny, Alex mused, when he walked into his kitchen to find a plate with pieces of roast chicken and a pile of mashed potato in his fridge, a bowl of salad sitting beside it. While she always kept his freezer stocked with an array of delicious meals he could easily toss in the oven, on the two days a week she came in, he rejoiced in the opportunity to eat something that hadn’t been previously frozen.
He didn’t dislike cooking. It just felt like so much after a full day at work took it out of him.
While his plate rotated in the microwave, he pulled out his phone.
Alex: You up?
It wasn’t particularly late. He’d texted her later than this, and she’d been in an Uber within ten minutes.
Sarah: No.
Her blunt response made his lips twitch as he hit the call button.
‘You’re phoning me? What era are you from?’ Her voice was low and scratchy through the speaker, as if she had really been asleep.
‘I’m barely older than you. Is using a device for its intended purpose that abhorrent?’
‘This is geriatric behaviour, Aleksander. Cell phones are no longer for calls. They’re for doom scrolling and making you feel insecure about your life.’
‘You were asleep while someone was clearly using your phone to text me. You can see why I’d be concerned. And I need my hands so I can eat.’
‘I didn’t have you down for a late night snack guy.’
‘Not exactly,’ he said, picking his phone up again, to text her a picture of his plate.
‘You just had a penchant for roast chicken at ten p.m?’
‘I had a busy day,’ Alex muttered. ‘Haven’t eaten except for a protein smoothie after my workout. Maggie meal preps for me so I can just reheat stuff when I get home. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t eat some days.’
It was more than he’d normally reveal to someone. A truth slipping out while he was distracted by the energy leeching back into his body. He was sure she didn’t realise the extent of what he was saying. Not that he hadn’t had time to eat. More that he’d simply forgotten food existed until he got home and crashed. It was one of the ways his job was slowly killing him.
‘If you always stay so late, why don’t you just take food with you?’
He’d tried that for a few weeks after Maggie started working for him. A stack of foil containers had piled up in the fridge at work, taunting him.
‘I, uh, I forget to eat sometimes. When I’m focused on work.’ Which was most of the time.
He could hear her reaction already. The same one all normal people gave. What do you mean you forget to eat?
‘That happens to me. When I’m painting. But I’m a bitch when I haven’t eaten enough, so Abby normally tosses a cracker or something at me when I start acting cranky.’
It was nice, he thought, that she had someone looking after her like that. Nice that they had something small, however unhealthy, in common.
‘Can I assume your text meant you’re not coming over?’ Save for Celine’s snores, his house had been quiet when he got home. Which meant he couldn’t go to her place, because they’d be there.
‘I’ve already retired to bed, and I find myself indisposed to tend to you tonight.’
‘That’s a very pretty way to tell me I’m not getting laid.’ Although if she let him keep talking to her, he wouldn’t mind that. Her indulging him without the promise of an orgasm in return was its own reward. ‘What’s keeping you busy?’ he asked, when she’d been quiet for too long.
She breathed sharply, as if he’d startled her. ‘It’s my bi-annual rewatch of Pride & Prejudice ,’ she mumbled.
Alex might have been surprised, if she hadn’t let slip at that first dinner that she loved historical romance.
‘Which one?’
‘2005. My hot take is that it’s better than the miniseries.’ She sounded far away again. ‘I watch it whenever I get sick.’
Something in his chest pulled at the implication. Sarah would never ask for his help, but fuck , he wanted to offer it.
‘What’s wrong, Princess?’
She surprised him by answering. At length. ‘Just feeling a little rundown today. I’ve been pushing myself too hard. It’s been a pretty non-stop few months of commissions, and my body has finally forced me to take a break.’
He understood that all too well. Sometimes it felt like he kept going on pure stubbornness and adrenaline, until his body decided it had had enough of the abuse and simply gave up for three days. ‘Can I watch with you?’
He braced himself for a cutting remark. A sharp no. Instead, she said quietly, ‘You’ll get spoilers.’
‘Do you really think Abby has never made me watch this movie?’ Moving faster, he deposited his plate in the dishwasher and stumbled to his bedroom. ‘It’s been a while though. Catch me up while I get into bed?’
While he brushed his teeth and stripped off his work clothes, Sarah chattered away about dancing and sibling dynamics and admitted she’d happily be a third to Elizabeth and Darcy. He had to agree.
Celine bounded onto the bed next to him when he slipped between his sheets with his laptop. The cool fabric was heaven on his skin, which felt tight and sensitive, stretched over pulsing muscles and fizzing nerve endings. Her head lifted at Sarah’s tinny voice coming through his speaker, and she shuffled closer, dropping her head next to his phone.
He couldn’t tell if it made him feel more or less pathetic that even his fucking dog was gone for this woman.
After he cued it up to the timestamp she’d given him, they watched mostly in silence, save for occasional remarks from Sarah. He hated that she was sick. But for whatever reason—weakness? Delirium? He certainly wasn’t delusional enough to call it comfort-seeking—she was choosing to let him be close.
And with ten minutes left in the movie, her breathing deepened on the other end of the phone.
‘Princess?’ Silence. ‘Sarah.’ Nothing. He sighed, wanting to be there, in her too-small bed, with her. In his fantasy, she’d let him hold her, keeping her warm and safe in his arms. When he was satisfied she was asleep, he whispered one more thing into the darkness. ‘I wish you’d let me look after you.’