Page 13 of Hodge
“You want to eat?”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. If you’re hungry, say so.”
“Fine. I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” she finally confesses. I step around her and motion for her to follow me as I lead her through the crowd and into the kitchen. I pull out a stool and nod toward it, watching as she sits down.
“I can make omelets. In fact, I’m really fuckin’ good at it.” I toss her a grin over my shoulder.
“I love omelets.”
“Good. Watch the master in action.” I laugh as I pull out the ingredients and start cooking. I don’t pay much attention to her while I cook, trying to perfect this omelet. Only when I’m finished do I plate the food, turn, and set it on the counter in front of Kemah. I watch her as she stares at the food in front of her, but she doesn’t make a move to eat it.
“This is when you pick up the fork,” I remind her. She looks up at me as I pick up my fork and take a big bite of my omelet. She reaches for her fork and cuts hers, but doesn’t bring it to her mouth.
“You know, there’s somethin’ sexy as fuck watchin’ a woman eat,” I tell her. Now her eyes meet mine, and she stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. I’m not lying, though. There’s something sexy as fuck watching a woman enjoy her food.
“Are you serious?”
“Do I look serious?”
“I don’t know, Hodge.” I nearly groan, hearing her say my name.
“I’m very serious. Eat, Kemah. Or would you like it better if I fed you?” She starts to shake her head when I cut another piece off my own and raise the fork to her lips. Kemah is hesitant at first, but eventually opens her mouth, and I slide my fork inside. I watch her as she closes her mouth, wrapping her lips around the fork as I pull it free from her mouth. Kemah chews as I watch her, my cock growing hard. I adjust myself on the stool and take another bite while she does the same.
“Do you work?” I ask her.
“No.”
“What do you do all day?”
“Not much. I sit inside and mostly look at magazines.”
“That doesn’t sound like a fun life.”
“It isn’t, but it’s mine.”
“Why? Why not go out and do somethin’?” I ask her.
“I … I just can’t. There’s too much going on,” she replies, as she continues to eat. I don’t ask any more questions as we both finish our food. I offer her a glass of water, and she takes it. A little water runs down her chin as she takes a drink. The thought of licking it off her body crosses my mind as I clear my throat.
I crack my neck from side to side before reaching across, picking up her plate, and placing it in the sink. When I turn back, I lean against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest as I look at her.
“Tell me what you thought when you saw the accident.”
“What do you mean?”
“What did you think? What went through your head?” She shifts on the stool, moving to face me as she holds her head high.
“I thought, what a way to go. Alone. No one rushed to your side, no one seemed to care. I … I thought how lonely it would be if that were your last seconds on earth.” I spot a tear in her eye, and my chest constricts. How could she know what I felt at the time? How could she know that I felt the exact same way when I lost my best friend?
I clear my throat once more before reaching over and wiping away the single tear that rolled down her cheek.
“Thank you, Kemah. For stayin’. For comin’ back.”
“Why thank me for that?”
“You’re right. No one deserves to be alone. I’m a fuck up at best. I’ve made so many mistakes that I can’t even begin to count them. I don’t deserve what you did,” I admit to her.
