21. Aiyana

Chapter twenty-one

Aiyana

K as looks absolutely delicious in the charcoal-gray suit he put on after his game, and as much as I know I'd love what's underneath even more, it's good to have those extra layers between us.

"There isn't much to see—my place has fewer rooms than yours because it's just me here, but it's got more space."

He leads me to the living room, where there's a massive black leather sectional with faux fur throw blankets in varying shades of gray, and as is the theme for these penthouses, huge floor-to-ceiling walls of windows give us a gorgeous view of the skyline. The biggest difference is that his view is three times the size of ours. He's also got a couple of small silver side tables next to the couch, a matching coffee table, and an area rug.

Aside from a few pieces of furniture and a wall-mounted TV, the room is pretty bare, but the deeper I travel into the room, the more nervous I get.

To the side of the TV is a collage of framed photos. More than half of which contain pictures of me. My skin feels tingly, and anxiety begins pooling in the pit of my stomach. Nothing like a little humor to ease the awkward air surrounding us. "Dang, Kas, are you stalking me or something? This looks like a shrine."

He's watching, his hooded eyes locked on me, taking in my every breath, assessing me. A small smile turns his lips. "I'd pray to you any day, little viper."

I redirect my attention to the kitchen, stalking out of the room, hoping that he'll follow, and thankfully, he does.

"The only other space here is my room, and it's up the stairs." I follow him up the metal winding staircase to the loft-style bedroom. It's very him, much warmer than the living room.

He has photos lining the walls and a large bed in the center of the room on a platform base that I'd recognize anywhere. He built that with my dad in undergrad. Spent an entire summer working on it, staining it that deep mahogany brown, the color of my eyes, he used to tell me.

I take in the smattering of colors, mostly dark, like black and dark wood.

I turn to head back down to the kitchen, but he catches my chin, tilting it up between his forefinger and thumb. He smiles down at me, and those hazel eyes remind me of the lakes we used to risk our lives to swim in each year. "I've missed you, little viper," he tells me in a hushed tone, almost a whisper.

I cast my eyes downward, averting his searing gaze. I can't breathe when he looks at me like that.

He releases my chin as if nothing had happened at all, and we head downstairs toward the kitchen, where he warms up all of my favorite dishes, including the calamari.

He works in silence, neither of us speaking as we watch each other, stealing a glance here and there. The silence is comfortable, no longer awkward and tense.

When the food is warmed up, he makes us each a plate and leads me to the couch.

Kas plops down, placing the plates on the coffee table, and I sit down on the other end of the couch, as far away from him as possible. I can't trust myself around him.

He gets up, grabs a silver-gray blanket off the back of the couch, and lays it over my legs before handing me my plate and setting my water on the table next to me.

When I'm comfortable, he takes his seat again, relaxing into the dark cushions of the leather couch before seemingly deciding to abandon any inhibitions he may have been holding onto. "Alright, baby, tell me why you supposedly can't be with me."

I'd say I'm fucking shocked, but I'm not. Despite that, my eyes are bugging out of my head. Meanwhile, he just managed to say that with a straight face. I had no delusions about where this night was headed, but I'd at least thought we could make it through our meal before he started hounding me for answers to questions he doesn't really want the answer to.

"Jumping right in, huh?" I ask, attempting to deflect. He doesn't warrant that with a response, simply digging into his food and waiting for the real answer. I huff, annoyance lacing my words. "I already told you, Kas. It would be awkward with Kat, and even if she would be fine with it, what happens if and when we break up?" The words spewing out of my mouth feel like venom on my tongue. If he had me, he'd never let me go, just like a boa constrictor.

He's shaking his head at me slowly as he chews, working his jaw in a way that has my eyes snagging on his stubble, swallowing the bite of food as my gaze trails down his neck, watching his Adam's apple bob.

"If I had you, I'd beg you to marry me, and you know it. I've known it since we were fourteen." I'm nauseous. There's something about knowing something in theory and actually hearing it in reality that has the power to turn everything on its head. The thought of never getting our fairy-tale ending has wrecked my dreams every night for years now.

I finally take a bite of food, starting with the calamari, and the moment it hits my tongue, a wave of nostalgia hits me as the memories of all the times he made it for me in undergrad come flooding in. A moan slips past my lips, and a smirk lights his face.

"Just give me a chance, and I could have you moaning like that every day, little viper." He's grinning at me, but his gaze is heated, and it gives me an idea.

A really, really bad one, but what the fuck . I'm going to be hurting my own damn feelings till the end of time anyway, and when he finally moves on and marries someone else, someone more deserving than me, at least I'll have these memories to carry or at least drag me along.

I try to keep my voice light and cheerful, but I feel anything but. "What if I let you?" His dark brows shoot up his forehead, jaw slack before I continue. "Make me moan, that is." His face takes on a strange scowl, something between intrigue and disappointment.

He takes a moment to mull it over before answering. "Like a friends-with-benefits situation?"

A nod is my only response.

"Okay." My eyes light up. Could this really happen? "But,"—and there's that dread seeping in again—"no one else gets to have you. You're mine and only mine."

"Well, obviously, Kas." I roll my eyes at him. "I'm so busy with work that I barely have time for one fuck buddy"—he cringes at the name, but I forge on—"let alone multiple."

With a quick nod, as if a very important decision has just been made, he says, "Good, same goes for me obviously. You should know, though, I'm absolutely going to use this as a way to win you back." His voice is full of hope. "Now eat up, little viper. You're gonna need your energy." He smirks, digging into his food, and I can't help the twinge of excitement that flows through me.