7. Nicolette #3
He would hold me to the breakfast. Why had I said“sure”? I didn’t want to spend time with him. My heart fell, realizing I had said“sure”for the same reason I had slept with him twelve years ago. It was easier to agree so that he’d go away.
Visceral disappointment made my arms feel thick.
I had only been back in Godot a few days and already the weight of my hometown’s expectations was eroding the self-confident shield I’d worked so hard to construct, reverting me to the girl who would do anything to just get out as quickly and peacefully as possible.
Riot was washing dishes when I approached. I scraped the last bits of eggs into the garbage with a little too much aggression. His head tilted in my direction.
“I can take care of this if you want to go to breakfast with him.”His voice was unnaturally even.
He didn’t look me in the eye as he reached over and took the tray from my hands.
I once again caught a whiff of his skin.
He moved back to washing dishes, the steam rising to create a shiny layer of dampness over his ropy forearms.
I don’t care what you do with her. Why had that stung so much?
I stayed silent, unwilling to dignify his response.
The image of Jeremy, slurping up the iced coffee, was fresh in my mind.
That awful grating noise coming from his lips, sucking on that plastic straw.
I remembered how vehemently he had pushed those lips against me, mistaking his eagerness for passion.
I almost wretched, muttering under my breath,“Words cannot describe how much I don’t want to go to breakfast with him .”
If Riot had heard me, he didn’t respond.
We went back to work, shoulder to shoulder, him washing dishes, me drying them and putting them away in the industrial kitchen.
The measured rhythm had a calming effect.
The reassuring scent and presence of the warm body next to me combined with the calculated cadence of our movements had me surprisingly relaxed for the first time in several days.
We matched each other’s movements. It was like, without words, our bodies knew how to work together.
A sinister thought drifted past my mind. If our bodies worked this well together doing dishes, what else could they be capable of?
By the end of the cleanup, I had almost forgotten about Jeremy altogether.
When I dried the last pan, Riot stood at the sink, angled toward me, deliberating something. I stole a glance and found some internal conflict mapped all over his features.
He looked down at me, his brows knitted in a firm gaze.
“What’re you doing here?”he asked.
“I told you,”I said, trying to mask my irritation.“My cards are frozen—”
“No.”Riot’s jaw ticked, and I felt myself swallow, watching the flex.“Why are you back in Godot?”
My heart fluttered.
“Chimera,”I blurted out, trying to keep the red from rising to my cheeks.“A colleague of mine said there’s a hybrid drug raging through West Virginia.”I looked off to the side and ran a hand through my hair.“When they heard I was from here, they asked me to look into it.”
It sounded plausible. Realistic even.
“Why did you come into the shop asking for me?”
My lips rolled together.“I locked my keys in my car. Some old woman told me you helped reprogram her radio and said I should ask for you.”I held my breath before daring to steal a glance at him. The conflict on Riot’s face seemed to resolve. His head bobbed slowly.
“You shouldn’t be staying here,”he said with resolution.
I almost laughed, picturing the kids’ faces that had come in with their parents.“Nobody should have to stay here.”
Riot gazed above my head, his focus unfixed on anything in particular.
“But you… shouldn’t be here.” He dragged out the word you like it was clear I didn’t belong here.
My insides burned like they had yesterday when he had told me he wasn’t interested in getting to know me because I was a reporter.
It had made me feel like the lowest, dirtiest piece of shit on the planet.
Now I wasn’t even good enough to stay at the town homeless shelter?
Anger gripped my throat, and I parted my lips to unleash my fury when he continued.
“This place does a lot of good.”He paused.“But it has a way of enabling people. Keeping struggling people all in one room together…”His head shook ever so slightly before casting it downward.“If you tread water long enough in the same pond, eventually you all sink to the bottom.”
His icy blue eyes met mine and there was an empathetic sadness in them.
Was he concerned for me?
His pity made me want to cry. I pushed a greasy strand of hair out of my face. What I would do for a hot shower and a fucking meal right now…
“Yeah, well… My options are running a bit low these days,”I snarked.
Something crossed his features. I turned the last pan over in my hands even though there wasn’t so much as a drop of water left on it.
Riot let out a long exasperated sigh, turning his eyes to the ceiling as if he already regretted what he was about to say.“Alright, I have a proposition for you.”
My eyes snapped to him. I turned my nose up, and he rolled his eyes.
“Not that kind of proposition, Jesus. You’re not even my type.”
For the second time that morning, my pride was stung by Riot Asher. The guy had been in prison for ten years. Was I that undesirable not even a freshly released convict was tempted? I averted my gaze, biting back something equally hurtful.
“It’s a business proposition,”he said. My gaze rose, but I didn’t meet his eyes, unable to stand one more look of pity from the man.
Instead, my eyes stared straight ahead where his tanned neck met his muscled shoulders.
“Look, I don’t know about you but I’m starving.
I’m going to grab a bite at the diner across the street.
If you come with me, I’ll tell you the terms and you can decide for yourself. ”
My stomach growled right before it did a little flip.
“Okay. Business discussion it is,”I said, squaring my shoulders to him. A twitch of amusement crossed Riot’s face. As we turned to leave, I was viscerally aware of the gentle hand that brushed my upper back, guiding me out of the kitchen.