Page 16 of Your Sharpest Edge
“He’s inside Dirks’s apartment. I heard the door click and the two voices fade inside, but you need to leave.”
She nodded as she rose from the couch, her movements still sluggish from sleep. I reached out, steadying her with a gentle grip on her elbow.
“I’m sorry I nodded off. It’s embarrassing,” she murmured.
“No.” I reassured her earnestly. “I really enjoyed the night.”
Her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, met mine. “Can we do this again? I can bake for you.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper, almost lost in the quiet of the night. “Just for practice,” she added, almost like she had to convince herself.
“I’d love that,” I replied without hesitation. My words held a depth of sincerity I hadn’t anticipated. I knew I’d always welcome her presence. “Anytime,” I added truthfully as she turned toward the door before slipping away.
I closed and locked the door behind her and hoped she reached her apartment safely before I heard him stumble out ofDirks’s place. Closing my eyes, I wondered what she was doing and when our paths would cross again.
7
stassi
I dashed into the kitchen the moment Dimitri left. He’d decided it was easier to go out and get drunk with his teammates than it was to try to get me to fit the mold of whatever sexual desires he had.
I grabbed a can of soup and poured it into a large pot to heat up. While it simmered, I hurried into my room and threw on my favorite pair of black joggers and a crop top. The bruise on my side, inflicted by Dimitri the day before, had turned an unpleasant shade of purple. With all my sweatshirts in the wash, I hastily grabbed a hoodie to conceal the bruise before applying some mascara.
I reassured myself that the mascara was simply to freshen up my tired appearance, not because I was trying to impress my new friend. It had been a few days since I last saw him, when I brought him cookies, so I wanted to look somewhat presentable.
Once the pot was finished heating up, I grabbed it with some oven mitts and then headed to the elevator, making sure that I locked the door behind me. When I reached his door, I set thepot on the floor and leaned in to listen. Sure enough, I heard the sound of feet shuffling inside.
“Shit,” I whispered.
Maybe I heard two pairs of feet? Why was I doing this? Aside from the incredible loneliness, and the fact my husband liked to hurt me when we had sex every day, I was exhausted and desperate for someone to be my friend, to share a space with me...softly.
“You forget that I can see you,” a deep voice said as the door opened.
I bent over to grab the pot, and as it swung open, I already knew I was in a compromising position with my ass in the air. The only redeeming thought was that he was much taller than me, so it wasn’t right in his face.
“Oh,” he uttered as my cheeks flushed crimson.
Hastily, I thrust the pot of soup toward him, practically pushing it into his chest.
“Damn, this is hot.”
I realized I was still clutching the pot holders and felt the blush spreading down my neck. “Here,” I mumbled, thrusting the pot holders into his hand as he expertly balanced the soup without spilling a drop. “God, I’ve messed up again. The other day, I made a mess everywhere, and now I probably burned you.”
He chuckled. “No, it’s fine. Thank you for this.” He nodded toward the pot. “So, what’s on the menu tonight?”
I followed him into his kitchen as if it were the most natural thing in the world, not waiting for an invitation.
“I attempted to make chicken noodle soup.” I lied.
How could I tell him I wanted to spend time with him?
“This is impressive,” he said as he looked down at the pot, and I wondered if he somehow could smell the fact it was a grocery store brand and not homemade.
“It may taste like shit,” I confessed as I took the pot from him, set it down and instinctively reached up to the cupboards to grab the bowls.
I knew where he’d kept them from when I brought the soup from the other night.
I stood on my tiptoes, stretching to reach without climbing onto the counter, when he moved around me. He was going to pull the bowls out effortlessly, which was going to piss me off because I really wanted to get them... for him.
My hoodie rode up as I stretched upward. I managed to reach the top before my clothes exposed my entire back.
