12. Samuel
Igrin as Ruby shoves me out of the kitchen. She says that I’m standing in her way because I’m “built like a damn grizzly” and I decide to take that as a compliment. I know that she’s lying though, not about the whole built like a grizzly thing, but about her reasons for needing me out of the kitchen.
When I had my hands on her, she looked at me as if she wanted to beg me to bend her over the kitchen counter and fuck her soul out of her. Unfortunately, I’m not as opposed to the idea as I had been a few days ago.
I still want to keep my distance from her, but a bit of teasing never hurt, and seeing that smug grin vanish from her face was satisfactory in its own way.
Around twenty minutes later, she comes back to the living room with a freshly filled glass of red wine, but who am I to judge?
She makes her way over to the couch while I sit behind her at the dinner table with my laptop open in front of me. I want to close it as she leaves the kitchen, but she doesn”t seem interested in it at all, just snuggles up on the couch.
She covers her legs with her blanket as if it’s not early summer, but before I can think about her weird habits some more, the TV starts blaring at a volume that’s criminal.
Even more so because Ruby watches a dating show that consists of dramatic yelling, fake laughing, and even more dramatic yelling. I wish she’d read something instead. I wonder if she does it to provoke me or if she is just that oblivious to her surroundings. Probably the latter.
Not even the best soldier could work under those circumstances and every time I get at least a bit of my focus on Mr. Barron”s credit card history, her stupid show drags my attention away. She really is a bad influence. It will take me months to return to my usual self once I’m done with this damned mission.
“Why does she even like that guy? He’s an absolute jerk.” It’s embarrassing enough that I whispered this to myself, but Ruby also heard it.
“Huh?” She turns around to face me, her expression equal parts puzzled and entertained. Once again I catch myself thinking that she is kind of cute.
Ruby is not cute, I remind myself.
“Nothing,” I say, as if I wasn’t watching her inane show for the past twenty minutes.
My answer seems to please her because she turns back around and presses play. All goes well until I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. How am I supposed to do that if half of the people on that show are the definition of the word shithead?
Yes, we work with criminals and see the darkest aspects of humanity on a daily basis, but I’m still impressed by how the producers found people like that. Or maybe their behavior is normal and I’m the weird one.
“That one is a piece of shit. The girl deserves better, unless she’s just as horrible as him.” I hear myself saying the words and bite down on my tongue. I should put some tape over my mouth.
“Never expected you to be a gossip queen who enjoys dating shows.”
“I don’t. It’s just hard to ignore when the TV is blaring like that.”
“Sure.” She uses that tone again, and I start tapping with my foot to calm down. “We can watch the next episode while we eat.”
“Thank you, but no,” I say while I look down at the open tab on my laptop where I already searched for the show so that I can watch it later tonight. Alone. She’s drugging me. That’s the only explanation for whatever is going on in this house.
Samuel Ryves, watching trash TV. I should tell Max, just so that he mocks me for it. Maybe it would help me get back to my senses. I should probably ask someone else than Max, because I have a feeling that he would be delighted, asking me to watch stuff like that together with him while he texts me his “commentary”.
I’m here for barely more than a week and I already miss him. Not only him, but also Rockwell and even Logan. Just a few more days until the captain hopefully decides on what we are going to do with Mr. Barron. Assumed that I gathered enough solid evidence to back up his plans.
“Stop bickering and come over here.” Ruby’s voice shakes me out of my thoughts about a better place. She’s already halfway to the kitchen and the only reason I follow her is that the lasagna smells too good and I don’t want to risk not getting anything.
She struggles to reach the plates on the top shelf, standing on her tiptoes in those ridiculous slippers she’s always wearing. It’s only a matter of time until she trips, and with my luck, that’ll probably mean a trip to the ER with her. I bet five dollars to myself that she’s going to hurt herself because of those things.
But those slippers aren’t the only thing that catches my eye. I wonder if she’d arch her back like that for me too. Her shirt is already quite short, but now her whole stomach is exposed and I swear I can see red lace peeking out from under her black shirt.
I need to get my hands on her. Just for a second.
Ruby is still desperately trying to get those plates, so focused that she doesn’t notice me coming closer until I put my hand on her waist. I let it rest on her exposed skin, and she’s even softer than I imagined. And warm, like a radiator.
I count to three before I pull my hand away. I need to, because if I keep my hand on her for even a second longer, I won’t find the willpower to remove it anymore.
“Here, short stuff,” I say with a laugh as I hand her the plates. Thinking about it, she purposely reached for those, because there were more than enough others on the lower shelves. Manipulative brat.
Ruby turns around with a spatula in her hand, flailing it in front of my chest as if it’s a machete. She’s like a puppy throwing a fit, but she doesn’t need to think that she can threaten me, not even jokingly.
In one swift motion, I grab her wrist and turn her arm on her back. Somehow, it’s always the ones with the big mouths that don’t see it coming.
I shove her down on the kitchen counter, her chest pressed flush against the cold stone while I’m standing behind her. With less distance than I should, I realize as I feel her ass on my crotch.
“Someone should teach you some manners,” I whisper in her ear as I lean down. The dumbfounded expression on her face is priceless, even more so because I can see how she’s biting down on her lower lip. This is probably one of the first times someone showed the little princess a hint of a boundary.
“Did you learn that shit in bodyguard school?” Ruby must have gotten her attitude back, because the next thing I know, she’s grinding her ass against me.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” With a groan, I let go of her arm to adjust my pants, which got too tight again. “Probably graduated from brat school.”
“With honors,” she says with a grin before she takes the lasagna out of the oven. My eyes widen as I see she made not one, but two.
“You’re really bold given the fact that I spent hours in the kitchen just to cook for you,” she says in a slightly condescending tone, and my cock twitches again. I would tell her I hate her if the lasagna wasn’t looking so damn tempting.
I take the plate she prepared for me out of her hand and rush towards the table. With my other hand, I pull up my balaclava. I don’t want to waste a single second before I get that thing in my mouth. It doesn”t matter if it’s scorching hot. The last time I had a proper meal must have been back at the airport.
“Really, with the mask?” Ruby asks as she joins me at the dinner table a few moments later. I shoot her a glare as I keep on eating. “How’s that saying—Hats at the table are disrespectful or something like that? Bet that counts for masks too,” she points out before she begins to eat.
“Don’t tell me anything about dinner etiquette, you’re sitting here like a damn raccoon.”
She has her feet propped up on one of the free chairs, the plate in front of her while her eyes wander from the lasagna over to the TV every few seconds. The very TV that’s still playing her weird dating show, but I don’t even have the nerve to complain anymore.
“Fair point,” she says. “Is the lasagna alright?”
“Best lasagna I’ve ever had,” I yell back toward her while I walk to the kitchen to help myself to another serving. Usually, I wouldn’t praise her like that, but the lasagna really tastes fucking delicious.
A while later, I ate almost two-thirds of the one she made especially for me, and I have to physically restrain myself from eating even more.
If she planned to win me over with her cooking skills, she’s succeeding so far. I have to give her that. I already know that I’ll have to beg her to cook for me more often while I’m stuck here.
Somehow, she even coaxed me into joining her on the couch for dessert and now we’re sitting here, each one of us with a bowl of ice cream in hand while we’re on episode five of her show. Hiding that I’m invested in it got kind of strenuous and if she mocks me, I can always say that she forced me to watch it with her.
She even got me to drop a few comments, and it feels strangely nice to know that we share the same humor.
For tonight, that is.
Just as I begin to relax, she looks at me with an expression on her face that means trouble. I prepare myself to shove her away because after those brief incidents in the kitchen, I have to keep my distance from her, or else I’m doing something stupid.
But she doesn’t come closer. Instead, she jumps up from the couch and bolts up the stairs as if she was struck by lightning. Without the slippers, thank God.
When she comes back, she holds something in her hand and the grin on her face is even bigger. I flip through the possibilities of what she could be holding as she sits back down on the couch.
“Look, I got something for us,” she exclaims proudly.
Two thin silver bracelets rest in the palm of her hand, a small pendant on each of them. There’s something engraved on the pendants, but since the TV is the only thing illuminating the room, it’s hard to make out details. She grabs one of my hands with her free one, turns it around, and puts one bracelet in my palm.
“No,” I say, shaking my head at her, refusing to look down.
“But you don’t even know what it is?”
“I don’t need to know.”
“The pendant says R, for Ruby,” she says, as if this is the most logical thing in the world.
“And this one’s mine, S, for Samuel.” The grin on her face is diabolical and I swallow thickly upon hearing my name leave her mouth.
The fucking dog tags. I’m the biggest moron on this planet, being so careless around her she now knows my real name. I almost want to lash out at her, but this is a hundred percent my fault.
Apart from that, she’ll think I lash out at her because of the bracelets and I won’t give her that reaction, knowing that she’s probably waiting for me to freak out.
Rejection, that’s the better option.
“Why do you think I’d want to wear that?”
“Thought we’re friends now.”
Her words are mocking me on so many levels that I’m impressed. I don’t want to be her friend. I can’t stand her, at least that’s what I tell myself when not even the booze is enough to make me sleep soundly.
And even worse, friends don’t do the things we do. Friends don’t do the things I want to do to her. Friends don’t tease you like that, friends don’t just grab your cock while you’re watching TV. At least mine usually don’t do that.
“You don’t like it?” She asks as she puts the one with the letter S on her wrist, adding insult to injury.
I’ll never agree to wearing that, for two reasons. Firstly, because it would mean that she won another round in this stupid little game between us and secondly, because it would mean that I kind of agree to whatever this shit is supposed to be.
“I’m not wearing that,” I say, knowing deep down that she probably won’t accept no for an answer. But she does, surprisingly.
“Fine, I’ll wear it for you until you change your mind.” She smiles, taking the bracelet out of my hand.
“You’ll have to wait a damn long time for that to happen.”
I look back at the TV to avoid having to watch her put the damn bracelet on her wrist. She’s still grinning, as if she expected this to go down exactly like that.
She leans her head against my shoulder and I let her, because I don’t have the energy to shove her away.
I’m fighting a war inside my head. I want to deny my attraction towards her, I really do. She’s nothing more than an annoying liability, an irrelevant part of a bigger mission that I just have to endure for the time being. A distraction, at best.
But that lie gets harder to repeat with every passing day I have to put up with her.