14. Alex
14
ALEX
ALEX: WHAT HAPPENED?
Gabe: Did you buy spaghetti squash? I looked that up and it’s just weird.
Kingston: what? No.
Kingston: that picture of Kat and I on the roof? The board wants her out of Chanler & Cort.
Alex: How do you know this?
Kingston: I crashed her brunch with my sisters.
Gabe: Out permanently?
Kingston: Her mom told her to take a vacation.
Gabe: Vacation is good.
Alex: This isn’t your fault, King. It rests squarely on the shoulders of her mother. Lucinda hasn’t had Katherine’s best interest at heart in a while.
Kingston: maybe ever.
Kingston: I know it’s not my fault. But still...
Kingston: feels like it.
I get it better than most. It’s a special kind of hell to think you’re responsible for someone else’s misfortune. Especially when it’s someone you love. But that’s honestly not the case here. And Katherine would never think any of this was King’s fault.
No. All this shit beneath her mother’s shoes is of her own making.
I can’t think of a single reason King or Katherine or Gabe or I could be responsible. We’re not the ones who signed her up for that auction. And we’re not responsible for the demons that traumatized her and gave her panic attacks.
Gabe: you didn’t fly the drone.
Alex: or take the pictures.
Kingston: right. you’re both right.
Alex: so what’s this about spaghetti squash?
???
Turns out Kingston can cook. Somewhere along the way, the man picked up killer pasta skills.
Gabe and King gather our plates and head into the kitchen, leaving me and Katherine at the round breakfast table. I love that there’s not a head of the table or harsh corners. Everyone’s equal here. There’s a little plant in the center of it that wasn’t there before, adding life and charm to the space.
Outside, rain patters against the window. We’re so high up that clouds block the view of the skyline, essentially wrapping us in a cozy cocoon.
Katherine swirls the cabernet in her glass slowly, methodically, lost in thought. I trail my thumb back and forth over her hand, content to soak in her presence.
She’s more relaxed than I expected. Then again, a good Cab and a plate of pasta will do that.
The clank of plates and silverware can be heard in the kitchen.
“All I’m saying is, my housekeeper will be here in the morning,” Gabe grumbles.
Sounds like he’s trying to get out of chores.
“It’s not hard,” King shoots back.
Katherine’s lips twitch. You don’t have to be a mind reader to know her brain dove straight into the gutter with King’s comment. She’s not alone.
“I know it’s not hard. But that’s why I work so fucking hard. So I don’t have to wash my own dishes.”
The kitchen falls silent, and I quirk a brow. Katherine grins, then presses her lips together, trying to stifle a giggle.
“You made billions of dollars so you don’t have to load a dishwasher?” Kingston sounds completely flabbergasted.
As if coming up with an idea, implementing it, and making enormous amounts of money was as easy as getting dressed in the morning. I know who King’s family is and the plethora of companies they own. And I have a rough idea of what’s in his trust fund.
He’s easily the most down-to-earth billionaire I’ve ever met. Content to hand-make pasta, do his own dishes, work in a bar, live on a sailboat, and share his best friend.
Maybe he’s onto something.
“That’s not the only reason.” Gabe sounds like a little boy trying to backtrack his story.
Katherine squeezes my hand and takes a sip of her wine. If you’d asked me five years ago if I’d enjoy a night in with a woman and her two other lovers, I’d have laughed you out of the building.
But hearing Gabe and King’s banter, watching the smooth spin of deep red wine in Katherine’s glass, feeling her skin against mine, it’s all just... right.
Like a never-ending slumber party.
She’s not the type to fill the air with chatter. And right now, the silence is companionable. Gabe, King, and I seem more perturbed about her dismissal from her company than she does, regardless of how long her “vacation” is.
“Do you want to go back?” The question is out before I even realize I’m speaking.
Her gaze lifts to mine, and she shrugs. “I feel like I should be more upset, you know? Like I should have fought harder. But honestly, it was a relief. So I don’t know. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and be angry about the whole thing.”
I can’t fathom being so chill after essentially being ousted from my job. At a company my family started.
“Or you could wake up tomorrow and fly to Boston with me.”
Her head tilts as she stares at me like she’s trying to decide if I’m serious or not. I am. I find myself thinking about her every available moment, wondering what she’s doing. If she’s smiling.
Because I just want her to be happy.
Other than Gabe, it’s been a long time since I considered someone else’s happiness. And for the last six days, that seems like all I’ve thought of.
“Really?”
“It’s just a quick trip. I’ll be back before it gets dark. Is LaShonda busy?”
Brows raised, she stares at me for a long moment. So long that I’m worried I got her friend’s name wrong. But then she blinks rapidly.
“Alex—” She says my name with reverence, then pushes her wine away before sliding from her chair onto my lap.
She cups my cheeks in her hands, and I wrap my arms around her, loving her slight weight. It’s real, grounding me. Her gaze searches mine, and my heart rate accelerates. It always does when she’s this close. When I can breathe her in.
“You are—” She kisses my lips softly. “The most thoughtful—” My nose. “Man—” My forehead. “I’ve ever met.”
Everything else fades into the background as she finds my lips again. Makes herself at home atop my thighs. She kisses me with an aching tenderness and so much appreciation. Pouring herself into it, into me. Filling me up till I feel like I’m soaring. Like I could take on the world and win.
I slide my tongue against hers, tasting the potent combination of pasta sauce and red wine. Her moan is music to my ears, sending my half-stiff cock into full-blown need.
We make out like a couple of horny teenagers. Hands everywhere, tongues tangling, and moans filling the air. I wouldn’t be surprised if the windows were fogged over. And I fucking love that. I love being in my own little world with her. To feel her trust and need burning so damn bright.
Finally, when I’m light-headed, I pull back. Her cheeks are pink, and her lips are swollen. My inner caveman is ridiculously pleased by that. A subtle mark that she’s mine. That I’ve pleased my woman.
The apartment is blissfully quiet except for our ragged breathing. I don’t know where the others wandered off to. Don’t care.
The only thing that matters right now is Katie Bird.
She trails her nails up the back of my neck, and I shudder. My cock feels like he might burst right through my pants to claim her. And the look in her eyes says she knows it. Feels it. Feels me.
There’s so much heat banked there I legit worry I might get scorched. In the best possible way, of course. She cuddles in close, raining tiny kisses across my chin and along my jaw. The tip of her tongue swipes at my earlobe.
I growl, pressing her hips tighter to my erection.
She giggles, sounding utterly delighted by my predicament. “I can’t get enough of you, Alexander Hunt.”
That just makes me groan again. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll be forced to bend you over this table.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” She smirks, those pretty pink lips enchanting me. “Were you serious about tomorrow?”
“You know I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t serious. My plane leaves at nine.”
“Then I’ll be on it.”