Chapter 22
Kas
She won’t stop staring at my arms.
I drop my cutlery onto my plate, unable to eat my bacon and toast with Mari burning holes into my body. It’s been almost a week since we ate breakfast with Davina and Mari. I wish we ate separately today so that I don’t have to watch Mari’s internal freak out over catching me jerking off.
I feel like I’ve flayed myself open for her by exposing myself in every way possible last night; one part was done purposefully, and the other was completely accidental, if not visually scarring based on her reaction this morning.
When she mentioned “mom stuff,” I thought she was going to say something tame. Like, maybe her mom had a weird collection of creepy dolls that was so embarrassing she didn’t want to bring friends over. Not that her mom and dad abandoned her on her auntie’s porch as a kid.
My heart seizes like it did last night, and I rub my chest before picking up my fork again.
“Mari, when are Devon and Violet getting here?” Dash asks.
Mari looks away from me and swallows a mouthful of pancakes she’s been chewing for way too long. “Next weekend. They left a week before us to go on a short bike trip; Vegas is their last stop.”
“It’ll be nice to see Devon, dude was fucking jacked when I last saw him,” Dash says.
“He’s still jacked. Been training at home so he can spend more time with his girl,” I explain.
A couple walk past us and nod at me. I return it and extend it to another waving bystander, something I’ve been doing a lot more since gaining recognition.
“Having a girl changes men for the better.” Dash ponders over his words for a moment. “I need to get my ass in gear.”
“It’s not a woman’s job to make you a better man, so get that out of your mind right now,” Davina warns, peeling a too-ripe banana.
Dash is one of those guys who thrive off situations where he’s not quite dating a woman, but he’s not just friends with them either. He picks up women, introduces them to the gym life, fucks them, and ghosts them. He’s a toxic motherfucker and Davina always says that one day, it’ll bite him in the ass.
“Even if that was the case, it’d take one hell of a woman to change me,” Dash says.
“Yeah, she’d have to chain you up,” Mari adds.
Dash points his fork in Mari’s direction after biting a sausage off its prongs. “She might as well gag me too while she’s at it.” He laughs, giving us all a view of the chewed-up food in his mouth before smacking his lips. “I’d like it,” he finishes.
I’m tempted to gag him now if he keeps eating like an animal.
Bill scoffs at Dash.
“Mari, I’ve been meaning to ask, why aren’t you in a relationship?” Dash takes another bite of his food and rests his chin upon the back of his hand as he awaits her answer.
Davina shakes her head. “Dash, please. No more attempting to sexually engage with women associated with the gym.”
“He’s not trying to fuck Mari,” I respond a little too quickly.
Mari pauses midway through cutting her pancake at my harsh tone.
Dash holds his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want to fuck Mari! I’ve already told her, she reminds me way too much of my sister.”
“I’m still living with my ex,” Mari says, a delayed answer to Dash’s earlier question.
She toys with her food, attempting to stifle the discomfort of talking about Isaac. Bill, Dash, and Davina do a terrible job of concealing their grimaces. My face is the same, though it’s more out of frustration because hearing about her still living with her ex has me more annoyed than I should be.
Violet’s idea of Mari moving into my place sounds more appealing by the day. I currently get to hear Mari’s snores and we’ve been synchronizing our night routines so that we can talk before bed. What difference would her living with me make?
I’m unable to quell the zing of excitement that courses through me at the thought. Making breakfast for her, showing her my vegetable garden, seeing her pottering around in her silk bonnet, encouraging her to reheat her leftovers ...
I place my palm on the table with unexpected force at the reminder of Mari being unable to reheat her food and send my empty glass toppling to the floor. It startles both our table and the nearby ones. Some drunk British tourists raucously cheer at the smash.
“Good luck with that, Sunshine,” Dash says, shuddering.
Bill shakes his head and takes a large sip of strong black tea. “My ex-wife would drive me insane.”
Davina nods and pats her stomach. “I would also go insane if I had to live with this one’s father.”
It’s a known fact that the father of Davina’s child is a complete loser, a given considering he wants nothing to do with the baby.
“Don’t worry, the second I’m out of his apartment, I’m becoming a serial dater.” Mari sets her shoulders back. She actually seems proud of her terrible idea.
Davina scoffs. “Serial dater? If I was your age, I wouldn’t even wade in the dating pool if the likes of Dash are contaminating it.”
“Put your claws away, Dav. You know what they say, right? People in glass houses ...” Dash smirks, his eyebrows raised playfully.
“Don’t start with me, kid, because I will fuck you up.”
Mari’s fully engrossed in their conversation. None of us really know about Davina’s pregnancy situation, and we find ourselves grasping at any tidbit of information we can get our hands on.
“I wouldn’t date. Seems like a waste of time,” I say.
Mari’s attention shifts from Davina and Dash to me.
“That explains why you haven’t felt the touch of a woman in so long,” Dash says.
I smirk before answering. “People wouldn’t feel so urgent about getting into relationships if they were okay on their own.”
Mari tries and fails to avoid my eyes as she saws another chunk out of her pancake stack. “I’m sure some people are okay with their own company , I personally prefer long-term companionship,” she mutters.
Okay with their own company ? Is she making a dig at me after last night?
Like Mari, I fell asleep a little after she did, only to wake up hard as a rock three hours later. It wasn’t until I went to brush my teeth that the thought of her entered my mind, and I wasn’t just hard, I was also turned on. So I closed my eyes and went to town until I heard a loud-ass bang from her room. It sounded like she fell out of bed and whacked her head on the bedside table, so I all but sprinted to find her “sleeping” peacefully.
She wasn’t sleeping.
The lack of snores, the bang, and now a breakfast where she can’t stop staring at my arms—she caught me.
I smile down at my plate of food before glancing up at her. “Even if you prefer long-term companionship, you must enjoy watching others enjoy their own company, right, Mari?” Her eyes flare in warning at my rebuttal. “It’s nice to observe,” I continue.
I shovel some egg into my mouth and cover it with my fist to make it look like I’m being polite instead of hiding my grin. She scowls at me as she stabs her pancake so violently, the fork’s prongs emit a sharp, scraping noise against her plate. The sound sets my teeth on edge.
“I wish I was a long-term companionship type of guy,” Dash interrupts, wholly oblivious to the exchange between Mari and me.
“I’ll pray for any poor woman that ends up with you,” Bill says.
“I was wondering when you’d decide to slide in an insult, Billy Boy. Let me be a slut, you old fart.”
Mari grins widely and does that high-pitched, musical giggle of hers. She’s cute , even if the sight of me repulses her at the moment. Seeing her laughing in spite of whatever the fuck is going on between us is comforting to me because it means that I haven’t completely killed her spark, or her colorful fashion.
She’s donning a sportier look today with an oversized jersey and denim shorts that showcase legs that deserve to be on full display—maybe carved in stone and placed in a museum too.
She flings her head back as she continues laughing, her hand shooting up to stabilize the blue baseball cap she’s wearing—her dad’s, I presume. That’s all her parents could give her. What should’ve been unconditional love was substituted with a baseball cap and a memory she’s spent most of her life trying to cope with.
Last night, I didn’t just feel safe with Mari, I felt like we had something in common: Loss. I huff out an unsteady breath and pry my burning eyes away from the cap.
Mari doesn’t look at me for the rest of breakfast. I quickly realize that I’m not too pleased with the idea of not seeing her big brown eyes all day.
Not pleased at all.
I feel bad. Terrible, even.
Not only did Mari and I have to force our way through a passive aggressive breakfast yesterday, but she’s avoided me for an entire day since. Today, she outright refused to take a bottle of water from me like I had cock-tainted hands.
Mari avoiding me is something that bothers me more than I care to admit. It could be because her not communicating is out of character, or because I don’t like the idea of her not addressing me. Either way, the second training finished today, I decided to go on a jog to some outlet stores. Now I’m standing in the hallway outside of her hotel door with a gift bag containing an almost two-hundred-dollar piece of tech and a card. It’s a birthday gift, now acting as a peace offering.
I also took the opportunity to place a check compensating two weeks’ worth of work on her bedside table when she was out with Davina. It was Davina’s solution to my complaint about Mari having to wait to receive her full pay until after the fight.
I knock a little tune on Mari’s door.
“Coming!” she calls, opening the door thirty seconds later in a hotel robe and her silk bonnet. It’s an outfit she wears every night while doing her skincare routine. “Sorry, I was ending the call with Auntie.” She glances at the gift bag in my hand. “What’s this?”
“Your birthday present, for tomorrow.”
“Oh, thank you. I didn’t realize you knew.” Mari’s brows furrow. “You also paid me today.”
“I paid you because you’d have to wait until Davina received the fight payments to pay you.” I hold out the gift bag. “This is also an apology.”
“For what?”
“For the other night.”
I take a step toward her and Mari looks me up and down with skepticism.
“What happened the other night?” she says, doing that awkward smile she does whenever she’s uncomfortable.
I shrug. “You tell me.”
“Beats me.”
Her faux nonchalance is ridiculous.
“ Beats you, huh?”
“Oh my god,” she groans and begins to shut the door.
I kick my foot forward, preventing her from doing so. “Take the gift, Mari.”
“I don’t want to touch that after you.”
She turns her back to me and strolls into her bathroom. I follow, dumping the gift bag on her bed and stepping around small piles of clothes I recognize her wearing earlier this week.
“I’m sure the pervert in you doesn’t mind,” I say.
She holds some oil in a squeeze tube and applies droplets to her face.
“Exhibitionist,” she retaliates, rubbing in the viscous liquid. I knew it’d only be a matter of time before she started hitting back. “You’re lucky we don’t have HR. You committed a felony. Indecent exposure.”
“Indecent exposure in the privacy of my bathroom? I’d love to see how that holds up in the court of law.”
Mari spins and rests her ass on the bathroom counter. Her dark skin is glowing with whatever she’s just slathered onto her face
“You’re such a hypocri—”
“ I’m a hypocrite? You watched me and I’m somehow the bad guy?” I interrupt.
We’re speaking over each other, synchronizing our speech and somehow acknowledging what the other says.
“You’re the one who told me off for being unprofessional, and then you go and play with your little—”
“I am not little.”
Mari hums unbelievingly. “From my view, it left much to be desire—”
“Your view? So you admit you were watching.” My tone lacks firmness because I chuckle partway through my sentence.
“You—” Her eyes narrow with annoyance, and she leans forward with her mouth popped open. I playfully tap the bottom of her chin, prompting her to close it. “You think this is funny?” she asks with raised brows. I’m smiling now. Once again, an argument has somehow turned into some sort of belligerent flirting. “I was this close to seeing your dick, and you think this is funny?”
Mari pinches her fingers together and shoves them in front of my face.
“Yes. Also, you’re smiling too.” She really is smiling. What was at first a grimace, has expanded into a gleaming, full-toothed grin. One that she tries to hide by leaving the bathroom and seating herself on her bed with a soft bounce.
“I’m not smiling, I’m cringing,” she calls.
I place myself in the random chair that seems to grace the corner of every hotel room and nod toward the gift bag at her feet. “Can you just open the fucking gift?”
Her bathrobe has come loose at the waist and forms a deep V, showcasing her cleavage. She follows my gaze and tightens the robe when she leans forward to snatch up the bag. With gentle fingers, she opens the card first.
“Happy birthday, please accept this peace offering for the other night. Buy anything, it’s on me ... oooh ,” she says, pressing the card against her mouth to hide her smile. “What could it be?”
Sometimes shutting up and sitting back to listen and observe everything around me has its benefits, like becoming a good gift giver.
Violet mentioned wanting better paints. So what did I do? I remembered a brand she said in passing months ago and gifted it to her. Devon complained about being unable to source a custom part for his bike? That’s what he opened on his birthday. I’ve even gone as far as sending fan mail to one of Bill’s favorite, now-retired, rock bands just so I could give him a signed photo and personalized note for his sixtieth.
I don’t play about gifts.
“Holy shit, Kacper!” I reel back a little, not expecting her response. “An e-reader? How did you know I even like reading?!”
Mari has barely picked up a book since being here—I’ve caught her reading a self-help book once before bed. The only reason I know she might read more than that is because I overheard a conversation she was having with Davina about some historical romance book. Knowing that she’s hesitant to buy anything from Vegas because she doesn’t want the hassle of storing stuff at home if she plans on moving out, I thought that maybe she’d appreciate something minimalistic to read on.
My reasoning is a bit of a stretch, but she seems to like it.
“Thank you so much, Kas.”
She launches herself at me with unbridled force, right into my lap. I envelop her with equal fervor. The embrace of thanks quickly shifts into one of relief when she softens in my arms, and I bury my face into her bonnet. The space between us remains minimal when she pulls away from me and keeps her arms looped around my neck.
“Remember, buy whatever you want to read, it’s on me,” I say.
She stares at my lips and glances between them and my eyes. I place my hands on her waist and subconsciously tighten my grip. I don’t want her to move.
“Are you serious?” she whispers.
It takes me a moment to realize she’s responding to me telling her she can buy anything on it.
“When am I not?” I whisper back.
“You didn’t need to get me anything. Besides, it’s one gift for one day. Not a gift and then several small purchases.”
“Well, my gift is different. I won’t be seeing you on your birthday anyway.”
“Why?”
“I booked a surprise for you so you can enjoy your gift. Meet Davina outside of her room at ten a.m. tomorrow.”
Mari shakes her head like she’s denying my words. “I’m here for work. I can’t just not work for a day.”
Our eyes take turns flitting between each other’s eyes and lips, and our voices become more hushed with each uttered word.
“One day will not be the end of the world,” I whisper.
“But my posting schedule . . .”
“Relax. Just . . . chill, alright?”
Our noses are a hair away from brushing, and with a final glance at my lips and a nod of her head, she clambers off my lap. I stand and take wide steps to the door before she can see the state of arousal she’s put me in.
“Hey, Mari,” I say, faltering at the door between our rooms.
“Hm?”
“I’ve been thinking. You should take Vi’s offer and move into my place.”
Mari slumps. “I don’t want to think about that right now.”
“But—”
“I just need to think very carefully about who I move in with, okay?”
If I open my mouth to argue, I know I’ll verge on begging. I settle with a nod. “Dobranoc, Mari.”
“Good night, Kas.”
I step through our door and adjust it to allow for a small gap like we’ve been doing most nights.
“Wait, Kas!” she says. I freeze, smiling at the idea of her changing her mind about moving in. “How did you know I caught you?”
I poke my head back through the doorway with a smaller smile. “You weren’t snoring,” I reply.
Mari shrugs. “Okay? I don’t snore, so I don’t understand.”
“Mari, you do snore. You saw me and pretended to be asleep.”
“No?” She bristles and shakes her head defensively.
“I hear your snores every night. That was the one time you weren’t snoring.”
She’s been in denial of her snoring and now it’s been used against her. I leave her to mull over my words, and like the first night we arrived here, I hear her muffled shriek of embarrassment.
If I’ve convinced her to believe that she snores, maybe I can convince her to move out of Isaac’s and into mine before the end of the trip.