13. Paul
Paul
Ducks in a Row
I’d never seen someone down an energy drink and go straight to sleep, but by the time I got into bed, Cherry was out cold, sprawled on her tummy with one arm hanging off the mattress and her legs splayed.
Hudson curled beside her, and I made myself comfortable on the part that was left. It wasn’t long before sleep took me.
It had been peaceful and surprisingly restorative, but that sense of calm didn’t continue once I woke up.
Probably because reality hit me like a sack of bricks.
Not only had Cherry lied about pretty much her entire existence, not only had she put us in danger with the whole Whisper thing, but also… I’d gone and slept with her.
I hadn’t meant to. It hadn’t even been a possibility in my mind. But one moment I was learning the actual definition of oracle and how many different types there were, and the next I was being seen in a way I…
Actually, I didn’t think anyone had ever looked at me the way Cherry did.
It was her drawings, really. I’d spent years trying to curate the image of the immaculate and professional middle child who was never an issue, and it turned out that spending so much time keeping my feelings trapped behind a veneer of calm capability made them strangers even to myself.
Seeing them laid out like that in different shapes and colors and realizing Cherry had been aware of them from the moment she set eyes on me…
It made me feel close to her. Or maybe it was just the leftover thrill from our narrow escape. For whatever reason, I’d done something very, very stupid.
But also very fun.
“Knock, knock? You hungry in there?”
And that was the thought that was on my mind as I stirred. Usually, I only slept for four to five hours at a time except during the new moon, so I was surprised when I was roused by gentle raps at the door.
“You’re already awake?” I questioned, looking around at her room in the morning light. A quick glance at my phone told me it was almost eleven, meaning I’d been out for my regular length. I’d just gone to bed much later than I normally would.
“Oh yeah, I usually sleep in chunks. Three hours, three hours, another two or four hours depending on what my body wants,” Cherry said. She was still in her pajamas, looking quite appealing in an oversized shirt and shorts barely peeking out beneath them.
Stop thinking about that.
Easier said than done. I’d clocked that Cherry was beautiful from the beginning, but now I was acutely aware of it.
I knew what her breasts looked like when they bounced in time to my thrusts, how her nipples stood at attention while her body flushed pink all the way down.
How her mouth fell open when she came and her?—
“I’ve got some brekkie ready downstairs if you’re game.”
Peace. Serenity. Control. Get yourself together and do not get an erection.
Although morning wood was a perfectly natural thing, it wasn’t exactly professional. Was it even possible to go back to being professional when I could still hear Cherry’s climax-fueled cries in the back of my head?
Only time would tell.
“I could eat,” I said, getting out of her rather large bed.
There wasn’t much floor space left in her room around what had to be its California king size, but between the canopy, the weighted blanket, the quilted comforter, and the plethora of pillows, I got the feeling that was exactly how Cherry wanted it.
“Great! Meet me downstairs. Oh, I’ve got a spare toothbrush in the little closet in the bathroom.”
“Oh, really? Thanks.”
“No problem!”
She gave me a little salute. Although it was less forced than her winks from the night before, I was relieved that I wasn’t the only one feeling a little awkward around the edges. I wasn’t sure quite how to navigate this new normal, but it was good to know I wasn’t alone in that.
With a stretch that popped my spine all the way up, I headed to the bathroom and went through an abbreviated morning routine.
There was a pack of toothbrushes in the little supply closet, and I got the impression they were more extras stocked up for when she needed a replacement rather than for multiple overnight guests.
Not that it was any of my business if she had people staying over to use toothbrushes, but my wolf seemed satisfied at my observation.
It only took me a handful of minutes to get downstairs, and when I did, I glanced into the open entryway of her craft room.
The mess we’d made the night before was still there.
That didn’t surprise me. Cherry didn’t strike me as the type to be blessed with organizational motivation. Maybe I’d clean it up for her.
But as I stood there, the scent of our activities filled my nose, and my body began to react. Nope, none of that now.
Hurrying to the kitchen, I was relieved when the thick scent of fresh eggs, toast, oatmeal, and baked potatoes replaced the echoes of last night in my olfactory senses. Thank God for small mercies.
“I hope you don’t mind the wide spread,” Cherry said with a smile, already loading up a plate. “I wish I had more meat for you, but I haven’t ordered groceries in a while. I do have some protein bars, though. I gotta eat them every meal or I won’t metabolize my meds.”
“Meds? For your ADHD?” I asked as I sat down at the tiny breakfast bar in her modest kitchen. I winced. That was rude to ask, wasn’t it?
“You betcha. I had a lot of trouble in my teens having the stimmies work for me. Either I’d get stuck on the most random things, they’d kick in after an insane delay, or they just wouldn’t work at all.
That was when my doctor explained I needed protein to properly metabolize them and drink lots of water or electrolyte drinks to compensate for their dehydrating side effects.
Because, as it turns out, dehydration makes them not as effective. ”
“Huh.”
I hadn’t had to take medicine for anything since I’d been prepubescent. A benefit of being a shifter, for certain. There were the occasional sicknesses or injuries we could get that required a medical helping hand, but they were few and far between.
“It can be a little complicated, but I’m glad to have them. Wish I could be more regular about taking them, but one struggle at a time.”
She handed me an empty plate, and I dished up a bit of everything. When I finished, Cherry gave me one of those looks of hers, then put another potato and more eggs on my plate.
For not being a shifter herself, she certainly understood our intense hunger.
Together, we sat and tucked in. While it was certainly no organic fare cooked by a professional chef, it was nice.
Homey. It reminded me of back when our mother and father used to cook on weekends.
I remembered hearing them laugh or tease each other while Chris, Luther, and I watched Saturday morning cartoons.
I wish us kids had banded together and kept the tradition alive with our father after her death, but we hadn’t thought to, and our chef had taken over until we were in our later teens and could fend for ourselves on the weekends.
“Hmm, hand me the hot sauce, would you?” Cherry asked about halfway through.
“Hot sauce?” I questioned, starting to stand.
“Oh no, it’s not in the cabinet. Hudson knocked it off the counter last night and it rolled under the table on your side. Just never picked it up.”
I was a bit taken aback that she could remember that, but I looked under the table anyway and sure enough, there was a bottle of bright red stuff sitting against the table leg. Picking it up, I handed it to her and watched as she shook a truly heinous amount onto her scrambled eggs.
“You have a vendetta against your stomach that I don’t know about?” I asked, trying to get back to our previous rhythm.
“What? Oh, haha. No. I just like a little zing with my food. I’m not the biggest fan of eggs.”
“Then why have the—” I started to ask before realizing. “Easy protein?”
“Easy protein.”
That made sense. It wasn’t hard to put together that Cherry wasn’t exactly a domestic goddess, so adding eggs to soup or ramen or anything else was probably a big boon to her.
How much could she accomplish if she had someone else to take care of that for her? A personal chef, or a partner. Someone with her gifts—even if she wasn’t a psychic—could definitely spend her energy better elsewhere.
We finished our meal in relative quiet, right up until Hudson sauntered in and meowed loud enough that I was sure the neighbors heard it. She was a saucy little thing. Cherry got up, cracked another egg and separated out the yolk, then put it in the cat’s bowl on the floor.
“Good morning to you too, ma’am,” she said with a chuckle before returning to her seat.
It was… domestic in a way. But as soon as that idea bloomed within my head, I tried to dismiss it.
Cherry was a professional providing a consultation service to me.
Not to mention she was still on thin ice for lying and pretending to have an ability she didn’t.
Although there were sections of my brain that wanted to forgive and forget, the vast majority of my conscience knew that wouldn’t be wise.
Everything was always so complicated when you were an adult. Normally, I relished my ability to navigate that.
Nothing was really normal anymore though, was it?
Because despite the lies, despite the sex, there was still a hit out on my youngest brother, and the murder of my eldest brother and my father was still unsolved. If there was anything that could get my mind off what Cherry looked like in the throes of passion, that was it.
“I think we should head to your estate, regroup, and update Chris about the situation.”
“What exactly is the ‘situation’?”
“Me being an empath, not a psychic.”
Her sudden dedication to the truth surprised me, and I felt an automatic kickback from myself on that. “Perhaps we should put a pin in that for the moment.”
“Why?”