Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
THORNE
Ikept a steady pace, my sweat-laden chest rising and falling with each breath. The droplets coated the treadmill I was running on, something I knew Oren would undoubtedly get onto me about. But if I were drenched whenever he elected to check on me, I knew it would serve as a fine distraction.
Knocking my knuckle against the toggle, I bumped the speed up a couple of notches.
I focused on the steady bounce of the wire settled at the back of my neck, my headphones blaring with some song I hadn’t bothered to learn.
Oren recommended I check out a handful of running playlists instead of exercising in silence, something he claimed was ‘sociopathic,’ but I found it rather grounding.
With a lengthened, intentional exhale, I dropped my attention to the time—25:32. Fuck, I’ve been running for that long?
Where the hell was Oren?
As if my thoughts summoned him, he stepped into my line of sight. Dressed in that same apron he’d… attempted to make cake in, he leaned against the doorframe. Tongue swiping against his lower lip, he took his time scanning me, that glint appearing in his cerulean irises.
Tugging on my earbud, I pulled it free. “Yes, dove?”
“Oh, no, keep going. The view of your ass is phenomenal.”
Intentionally bumping up the speed again, I increased my pace. “You just came to observe then?”
“I wanted to let you know we’re having company soon. Simon and Liam are on their way here, and Simon didn’t sound too well.”
My forefinger met the red button, the treadmill slowing to a stop. Snatching the small towel I’d wrapped around the handle, I wiped my face as I stepped from the platform. “What do you mean?”
He blew out a breath, but the waver in his gaze gave everything away. “Simon said he’d provide details here and only here, but the way he said it to me? It can’t be good.”
Fuck.
Keeping myself composed, I closed the gap between us. Sweat dripping from my skin, I planted my hand against the doorframe above his head. “Well, it gives you a reason to cook. Yeah?”
“Why do you think I’m wearing this?” Picking up the material, he shook it with a brow raised.
“That’s exactly why I said what I said, dove.” I smiled, leaning down slightly. “How about a sweaty hug?”
He grimaced, taking a large step backward, only to be met with the opposing wall. “No.”
My lips curled more as I filled the space he’d retreated from in one measly stride. Caging him in with both arms, I craned my head to the side. “Oh? You seemed rather interested when I was on that treadmill.”
“Yeah, you were at a distance. It’s nice to admire things from safety, you know.”
Both of my brows lifted. “Safety?”
Smirking, he dipped his chin in a nod. “Mhm.”
Without giving him time to react, I wrapped my arms around him and hoisted him off the ground. Tossing him over my shoulder with ease, his entire front side came into contact with the sweat he was so heavily trying to avoid.
“You were saying?”
A gag rolled through as his fists greeted my back. “T-Thorne, put me down!”
“Your attempt at a back massage is a two-star at best.” Carrying him from the training room, I made my way up the stairs and into the living area, refusing to let him go even as he continued to squirm in my hold.
“Ugh! You stinky, sweaty, bastard!”
“Do we not sweat when we fuck? What is the difference, Oren Graves?”
“I’m always on top—”
“That’s a lie. There have been a handful of times where I have taken that position.”
Huffing, he slackened against me. “Okay, touché, but… Oh, I don’t know! It’s hot during sex, but now I’m stuck to a sweaty meat rag that’s holding me hostage.”
I flattened one hand on his ass before shrugging him off my shoulder. He collided with the couch before he could even draw a full breath, and I placed my hand on its back, glaring down at him.
“I’m offended you would refer to me as a sweaty meat rag.”
Smiling, he tilted his head up to plant a kiss on my jaw. “You let me go.”
“Oh, I’ll let you go.” I pushed myself upright and stepped away from the couch, turning my back to him. “I’ll keep that insult in mind next time you want something from me.”
“Hey… Hey, wait! Come back, baby.”
“Nope. This sweaty meat rag is going to take a shower. You know, need to prepare myself to meet my drama queen of a fiancé’s expectations.”
“Okay, again, touché, but… this drama queen was joking.”
Walking toward the hall, I lifted my hand and jokingly uttered something I knew would piss him off. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen? Doing your job?”
I didn’t have to see him to know he was angry, his face probably boiling red as he shouted, “Oh, kitchen jokes? Okay, fine, but if there’s shit in your food, don’t blame the cook!”
Chuckling, I headed up the stairs before slipping into our room, scratching behind Mercy’s ears as I made my way to the bathroom. “He’s such a priss. Don’t you agree?”
She lifted her head, that wide smile growing on her lips as her tongue flopped out between them—a yes.
With one more eager rub, I pulled away and continued with the task I’d promised.
I stabbed my fork into the last piece of chicken on my plate, glancing between Simon and Liam. “Now that we’ve eaten, do we get to discuss?”
They’d both been adamant about not interrupting the meal, stating that the discussion could wait until we’d all finished up with the main course. It was a comment that suggested they knew Oren far too well; it was never just a one-course meal with him.
Carrying a tray of some type of intricate apple pastry I’d heard him scream over for the past hour, he set it on the table with a satisfied hum. “Salted-butter apple galette with maple butter whipped cream, of course,” he added, as if anyone expected that for dessert.
Liam perked up slightly. “Wow, that looks divine, Oren.”
“Please,” I muttered, draining the rest of my whiskey. “Do not feed his ego.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he rolled his eyes. “At least someone appreciates my job in the kitchen.”
My gaze snapped toward him, the attitude that’d remained since before my shower drawing up the sudden temptation to snag a cigarette and step outside. “Glad Liam can suck your cock for you, Oren. Maybe he could do so with some of that maple butter.”
His lips twitched, and he frowned before sitting in the empty seat next to me. “It’s maple butter whipped cream,” he muttered under his breath.
“It looks great,” Simon added, cutting into it with haste. “I’m sure it’ll taste equally amazing, right?”
Liam nodded, diving into the dish as well, and everyone at the table seemed to ignore my question regarding our discussion.
Flattening my hands against the dark oak, I shoved my chair back. “I’m going to step outside. Whenever you guys elect to have this conversation you so deeply desired to come over for, come snag me.”
Pivoting on my heel, I didn’t give any of them time to speak as I made my way down the hall and up the stairs. Swiping the box of cigarettes and lighter from my nightstand drawer, I opened the sliding glass door, stepping out onto the balcony and shutting it behind me.
Was I relying on my flawed crutches to keep me from spiraling over the incessant thoughts roaring through my mind? Yes. Had what Oren said really affected me that much? Apparently fucking yes.
I pulled a cigarette from its home, inserting it between my lips as I loosened a breath.
Flicking the metal once, a flame roared to life, and I brought it to the stick waiting to be ignited with sin.
With one connection, I inhaled deeply, allowing the nicotine to flood my senses before I pocketed the lighter.
Taking multiple drags, I leaned forward, resting my forearms against the railing. Satisfied by the roaring burn in my lungs, I held each mouthful of smoke longer than the last, basking in the numbness that slowly began to flood my body.
The door glided to the side, and I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “Thorne? You’re… smoking.”
“Yeah, I needed a minute.”
Arms coming to rest beside mine, his gaze fixated on the backyard. The wind blew through his blonde curls. “It’s what I said… isn’t it?”
My jaw feathered as I shook my head. “It’s fine. Ultimately, it’s dumb. Nothing to fret or apologize over.” Sucking in another drag, I allowed my head to fall as the smoke left my lips. “Shouldn’t you be in there with our guests, considering it’s your cooking they’re devouring?”
“When my fiancé is out here smoking, knowing he only does so when something is on his mind? No. They can wait.”
“I have a lot of things on my mind.”
It wasn’t a lie. Not when I’d knowingly placed an especially heavy weight on Liam’s shoulders.
The way he looked at me at the diner ingrained itself into my mind, burrowing all the way to my dreams. It was hesitation, a lack of trust, and far too many questions than even I had answers for—and being ignored at dinner by them all? That solidified everything.
The three of them were close; I was the outlier. Their friendship reigned, and I was their damaged commander—or ex-commander. Whatever.
And it didn’t stop there. My meeting with the Mafia head, Sebastian, my faculty member at the college, was scheduled for a week from now.
Everything I said during it would determine whether we walked out with their support.
Not only that, but I fucking missed Matt as his new job had taken him overseas.
“Like what?” he probed, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.
“Most of it isn’t even my story to tell.” Tapping the cigarette on the side of the balcony, I watched the ash fall before I returned it to my lips.
“Then what parts can you tell me?” Oren continued his touches, focusing his attention on me.
“It’s shit I’ve walked into, Oren. So ultimately, the resulting stress is my problem.”
“Your problem? Maybe, but how can I determine that if you don’t talk to me? You know I’m here for whatever you need.”
“And worry you? Because that’s all this has ever been.
” Gesturing between us, I released a frustrated exhale, and with it, a cloud of smoke.
“The entire time we’ve known one another, our relationship has become structured on unease and fear.
Hell, you still struggle with panic attacks from your father’s passing.
Do you really think I want to add to that? ”
“No, I know you don’t, but is that really how you see our relationship? That it’s built on fear, unease, and the inability—”
“God, Oren, I don’t know!” My palms greeted the railing, a metallic hum rolling through it with the force. “I don’t even fucking know how you feel about me anymore!”
He blinked, stumbling back a step. “What? What do you mean?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“No, tell me. What do you mean that you don’t know how I feel about you?”
“All you seem to address me with is disgust, lack of interest, and annoyance.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I turned away from him.
“And have no apparent issue with cutting me off in front of guests and ignoring the very questions I prompt. You never used to be that way, Oren, so I apologize if I am questioning shit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for cutting you off. I… was excited about dessert because I remembered you really liked apples, so I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“See. This is what I mean when I say it’s stupid. I’m upset for no reason, so as I stated before, don’t worry about it. I’ll deal.”
Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he tugged. “It’s not stupid, and I’m sorry for skipping over your question. I’m also sorry for anything I’ve done to show a lack of interest, disgust, or annoyance. That’s not how I feel about you at all.”
“It’s… Don’t worry about it. I’d prefer not to be referred to in such negative terms. That’s all it’s been for the past month, Oren. And when I gave you a taste of your own medicine, you got angry at me.”
“I will worry about it, because I care about you. I apologize for referring to you with any negative remarks. It’s not an excuse, but the stress has gotten to me, too.
I want this company to do well to rid myself of my father’s stain.
If I do something good, it’ll… it’ll at least help to cleanse the rotten part of my lineage.
But no, you’re right. I didn’t enjoy it when you said those things to me, so it’s fair to say I shouldn’t have said what I said either. ”
Inhaling deeply, I held onto the last lungful of smoke for far longer than the others before electing to loosen my breath. “Like I said. It’s fine. We both have enough on our plates, so it’ll work itself out eventually.”
“You’re a terrible liar. And no, not if you don’t let me help you, just like you help me.”
“You just said that the stress has gotten to you, too, so clearly I’m not helping with shit.”
“Again, another lie.”
“So you’re calling yourself a liar? Because you said it.”
“No, the last part. You’ve helped me drastically with my panic attacks, but you know I’m here to help you, too. If I’ve done anything to hurt that trust over the past month, I apologize.”
Putting the cigarette out on the back of my hand, I dropped the remnants to the ground, snuffing it out with my boot. “We’re good. Now, instead of keeping Simon and Liam waiting any longer, how about we head inside?”
Furrowing his brows, he dipped his chin in a faint nod, but I could see the doubt clouding him. “Okay… We can stop discussing it for now, but I know you, Thorne. If you think you can hide from me, keep trying.”
Little did he know, I was more than capable of doing just that.