Chapter 22 Ari
Ari
Back at home base, I dig through what’s left of our food while Villain tries to cook that fish.
My fingers move through plastic and glass until I find what I’m looking for—the dried mangos.
I grab a small bottle of cognac, too, then I notice something at the very bottom.
A box of Amedei Porcelana chocolates, assorted.
The box feels soft and warped, probably from the candies melting and hardening a few times, but I don’t care about that. This feels like I hit the jackpot.
I return to the fire, where Villain’s crouched, his brown skin glowing in the light of the flames.
“It was trial and error,” he says, “but I finally figured some shit out.” He pokes at the rocks with a stick.
“I put them bitches in the fire to get ‘em hot, then I put both sides of the fish on them to blacken the skin. Then I wrapped it in one of them big ass leaves and put the whole thing on top.”
I blink at him, impressed. “How’d you even think to do that?”
He shrugs. It’s a casual movement, but proud. “Just tryin’ shit.”
My mind flashes back to earlier. Before we walked back, he cleaned the fish in the ocean, then used his pocket knife to slice it open and dig out the guts.
I gagged like a child at the disgusting sight of it, but I have to admit, there was something about watching him do it that got me. It was undeniably masculine. And sexy.
I sit on the blanket and hold up the box of candy. “You like chocolate?”
His eyes find mine across the flames. “I love chocolate.”
Something about the way he says that, all low and pointed, makes my stomach flutter.
He brushes dirt off his hands. “I been thinking. I agree with you that we should move closer to the ocean. Without a fridge out here, I’ma have to fish every day.”
I nod. “When?”
He shakes his head, deep in thought. “Shit. If nobody comes for us tomorrow, then the day after that.”
We both watch the flames for a while, comforted by the glow, the smell, the sounds. It’s all becoming familiar to us now, which scares me a little.
“Fish should be done now,” he finally says.
I pull out the dried mangos and arranged them on our two plastic plates while he unwraps the fish.
The smell hits me, and it’s like a waiter just brought something flambe out of the kitchen and caught everybody’s attention.
My stomach growls in anticipation as I watch him cut the fish in half.
He puts my portion on my plate, then takes the rest. We exchange a look, and then we dig in like animals.
It’s so good, I can’t help myself. I hum, lick my fingers, suck the juice off. I notice Villain’s jaw tightening, but I’m too happy to pay him any mind. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until this very moment.
“Can you stop?”
I look up at him, blinking rapidly. “Stop what?”
“All that damn licking and smacking,” he mutters. “It’s not…ladylike.”
I stare at him, a steaming hot piece of fish meat dangling from my fingers. “You serious?”
He just gives me a look, a hard one. I feel like I can see the irritation coming off of him like smoke.
“You trippin’,” I say. “This fish is delicious, and you over there mad.”
He grabs his plate and stalks off to the shelter, leaving me alone by the fire, bewildered and offended.
Whatever.
And the fish tastes even better with the mango.
When I’m done, I pour myself a little cognac and tear open the box of chocolates. I open a dark bar and smile. The first bite melts slow and sweet on my tongue. It’s so heavenly, I let out a small, involuntary sigh.
“Save me a piece,” he calls from the shelter.
My answer, loud and clear, is, “No.”
A beat passes, then he says it again. “Save my piece.”
“No.”
Now he’s on his feet, crossing the dirt as he stalks toward me. “I want my candy.” He stares down at me, a chilling look in his eyes. “You know I could take it if I really wanted to.”
“Go ahead and try it. See how far you get.”
“Give me my fucking chocolate.”
“No.” I lick a bit of melted chocolate off my finger. Very unladylike. “You were rude, so you played yourself out of getting any.”
His head drops. He blows out a sigh, then sits on the blanket next to me.
“Alright, look. I wasn’t tryin’ to be rude to you. And it wasn’t about you bein’ ladylike.” He shakes his head. “All that shit you was doin’, smacking and licking all on your fingers—that shit was turning me on.”
I rear back, surprised by this little revelation. “I didn’t realize.”
“Well, now you know,” he mutters. “At this point, everything you do turns me on. And I don’t believe you didn’t realize. We both know you know how fine you are.”
“I never said I didn’t know I’m fine. I didn’t realize you were attracted like that.”
“Whatever.”
Heat crawls up my neck as he holds out his hand for a piece of chocolate. I pull one out and go to deposit it into his palm, but at the last second, he snatches his hand away.
“Feed it to me.”
I narrow my eyes. “See, now you’re trying to get us in trouble.”
He looks around. “In trouble with who?”
His voice is smooth. Dangerous. I stand, dropping the chocolate into his lap before I walk off to do my nightly routine.
Not even the threat of a snake can keep me from my end of the night peeing session. I relieve myself, then brush and floss. By the time I crawl into the shelter, he’s already there, smelling like mouthwash and cognac. How he managed that, I have no idea.
“Goodnight,” I say softly to no response.
I wonder what time it is. That’s one of the disorienting things about being out here. It can’t be much later than eight or nine, because we’re not too far from sunset. I would give anything to know for sure.
To think, I used to be a night owl.
“How long you gon’ make me wait?”
It’s so sudden and unexpected, I almost think I dreamed it.
I turn my head toward him. “What did you say?"
"How long are you going to make me wait?" he articulates.
"You act like it’s a foregone conclusion that I’m gonna sleep with you.”
“It is.”
The absurdity of his confidence makes me laugh. “So basically, you wanna know how many more days are gonna go by before I help you cheat on your fiancée.”
“I told you, I ain’t in love with that girl.”
“That girl,” I repeat. “Does she know that?”
He chuckles softly. “When you reach a certain level of celebrity, everything is transactional.”
“Transactional?”
“Yeah. It means—“
“I know what it means.”
He’s quiet for a minute, then says, “Oh. You’re surprised I know what it means.”
“That’s not what I—“
“Rappers are poets. Wordsmiths. I ain’t just some dumb country nigga that stumbled into some money.”
“Villain—“
“You a snob for that shit,” he cuts in. “Anyway, like I was saying, shit is transactional. Everybody knows what game they’re playing.
Shemari likes being my baby mama. She likes the fame.
She likes seeing her name in the blogs and posting all the shit I buy for her.
That’s her version of love. And she’s good with it. ”
I consider that for a moment. “I’ve been around plenty of celebrities.”
“Then why you actin’ all babe in the woods?” His voice sharpens, frustration crackling beneath it. “It feels like you just lookin’ for excuses to avoid the inevitable.”
“It’s not inevitable.”
“Don’t play with me,” he says, his voice dipping into a growl. “You think I don’t see how you look at me? You think I ain’t notice how hard your nipples were yesterday? I know you were wet as fuck, and not from the ocean.”
I sigh, too tired to argue. Besides, I can’t dispute anything he said.
“And you done kissed me. Twice. So, what the fuck?”
“Okay, maybe I do want you,” I admit. “So what? It doesn’t mean I’m gonna fall right into your arms. It’s not that easy.”
He’s quiet for a minute, but when he speaks again, it sounds like he’s smiling.
“So you got terms, too, huh? Lemme hear ‘em.”
“Please. I’m not transactional like your girl.”
“You are,” he says. “Just in a different way.”
“Whatever, Villain.”
“Vincent. You can call me by my real name.”
Silence stretches between us. I turn onto my side away from him, listening for the waves in the dark, distant and fierce.
I can feel him watching me.
And I can feel my body betraying me.
Fuck. I don’t want to want him like I do, but whatever this is, it’s beyond my control, and I fucking hate that.
I can’t let him get what he wants, even though I want it, too. It’s too messy. Too dangerous. Men like him don’t leave you better than they found you. They leave you in the ruins of the lies they told to get what they decided you owe them.
Nope.
Not me.
And he’s a rapper, too?
He best get the taste out his mouth, because it is not happening.
But as I drift off the sleep, all I see behind my eyes is him.
Which isn’t so bad.
Maybe we’ll make love in my dreams.