Page 27 of Far From Center
Itwasfunny. He smiled back. “It does that all the time. Clearly this body likes you. I like you.”
“Well, I like you too. And I also like your body. Perhaps your body and mine can be friends?”
She was teasing him, but there was something behind the words that made him believe she was just as interested in having sexual intercourse with him as his body was to have it with her. But was the angel inside the body interested? Gabriel remembered their kiss last night, the way her skin felt against his in the bed, the dreams he’d had all night, how he’d panicked to wake up and find her gone.
Was it odd that he felt less concern about the effect of sexual intercourse on his vibration levels than eating that omelet she was making? Having random sex with every willing human he came across would have been an appalling abandonment of his morals, but affirming an emotional connection via physical, sensory experience seemed perfectly acceptable.
He was still undecided about the omelet.
“I’m fairly certain that more than our bodies are friends, Nyalla.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he was feeling strangely vulnerable, embarrassed by how he’d come to rely upon this woman he’d just met, to have her matter so much to him in such a short time.
“Maybe friends with benefits? Oh no, forget I said that. It’s not what I want anyway. I want more and…just never mind.” She stood and looked at the string, then typed something into her phone. Gabe frowned, trying to make sense of her words.
She waved him to the chair. “Now sit and eat your omelet before it gets cold. Terrelle and Snip are going to buy and bring some clothing for you.”
He sat, taking a few bites of the omelet before he even realized what he was doing. What was this ‘benefits’ thing? Wasn’t friendship inherently beneficial to both parties? Was there something additional that he’d neglected to do? Judging from how flustered Nyalla was, he didn’t think it prudent to ask her. Maybe one of the maids could tell him, or perhaps he’d come across an explanation in one of Nyalla’s many books.
The food tasted amazing. It was all he could do to keep from shoveling it down his throat in a completely gluttonous manner. “This omelet is quite acceptable, by the way. I commend your food preparation skills. I’m concerned that kale and beets will be equally delicious and I’ll find myself having to force myself to restrain from overindulging.”
She beamed. “Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my cooking. And trust me, you won’t find kale and beets delicious.” her smile turned a shade wicked. “And here is that coffee you’ve been resisting for the last year or so.”
Gabriel ate a few more bites and eyed the cups she’d sat in front of his plate. They held liquids of varying shades of brown, some with empty white packets next to them. “I struggle with this even more than the food. It’s not so much the sin of gluttony that I’m afraid of. I’ve made it a practice to refuse coffee every time it’s been offered, and believe me, the Iblis would love to hold me to the floor and pour it down my throat if she could. I’ve never given in. Never. And here I am, a human, about to drink coffee.”
Nyalla sat across from him. “Then don’t. It’s a common human beverage. I like it, and I thought you might enjoy it too. But if it’s important for you to hold fast on this one drink, so be it. That way you can tell Sam that you’ve never ever had coffee and never will. But if you want to try it, then you can trust me to keep it a secret. Maybe you’ll only drink coffee when you’re alone, or only with me and no one else present. It’s up to you.”
It was such a relief to hear her say that. He’d feel better about all his other sensory experiences if he could hold firm and continue to deny himself this one thing.
“I’ll not drink the coffee. Although I feel terrible that you went to all this effort and I’m not even going to try it.”
“It doesn’t require much effort to make.” She pointed to each of the mugs. “Just for your edification, humans enjoy coffee either with or without additives. This one is black with nothing added. This one black with sugar. These other ones have varying amounts of sugar and milk.”
He eyed them with interest. “The cow’s milk. How does my brother like his coffee?”
She laughed. “With so much sugar that he should have an insulin chaser. And it’s about half cream, too. Sam likes hers black with no sugar. Rafi likes to change it up each time he comes over, so I never know how he’s going to want his coffee. Once I saw him pour a bunch of Sam’s vodka in his. He made me promise not to tell her. Sam is very possessive about her vodka.”
He couldn’t help but shake his head. “Greed, gluttony, anger, sloth, envy, lust… The only sin that imp doesn’t wallow in is pride. A bit ironic given that pride is the sin that angels struggle against the most.”
She propped her chin in her hands. “Which sin do you struggle most against? You don’t seem to be particularly prideful, and even with how rapidly you devoured that omelet, I can’t see you as gluttonous.”
“Envy.” He didn’t even need to think about that one. “It’s the curse of the middle sibling to struggle with envy. Not that the order of our creation should ever excuse sin. How about you? Is there a sin you find particularly hard to resist?”
Her eyebrows knitted and she shook her head slowly, taking some time before answering. “I don’t really feel that any of the sins has an irresistible appeal, but I believe that enjoyment in moderation isn’t a sin. Of course, every human has a different idea of where to draw the line between moderation and excess.”
He nodded. “You don’t seem the type to fall under the sway of sin. In that way, you’re a better angel than I am.”
She laughed. “Oh hardly. I know many would say that lust will be my downfall given the number of men I’ve dated in the past few years. I don’t see lust as a sin, though — at least not good old-fashioned healthy enjoyment of sex. It’s not just for making babies. Sex relieves stress. It’s enjoyable, and it bonds people together. Even casual sex. There’s a closeness that happens between two people, a feeling of not being alone in the world. I guess if sex becomes obsessive or harmful, it could be considered a sin, but I don’t believe the act itself could be. Nothing so wonderful could be sinful.”
He looked down at the half-eaten omelet. “By that definition, the consumption of food, the acquisition of material goods…“
“I think the sin is in the excess. Surrounding yourself with beautiful things, crafting food that both meets our nutritional needs and is pleasurable — these things are part of the beauty of life as a human. In moderation, of course. Selfishly hoarding items, eating and drinking to the point that you damage your body or adversely affect your ability to function — that’s crossing into sin, in my opinion.”
He swirled his fork in the food on his plate. Eggs, milk, cheese, vegetables. It had a pleasing flavor and an enjoyable mixture of textures, but he didn’t feel the urge to gorge himself to excess. Could he have been wrong all these billions of years? Had he been on the wrong path all along? “You feel the key is to be centered. To not be an ascetic, nor live in hedonistic excess, but in the middle.”
She smiled, two adorable dimples in her cheeks. “I’ll admit that the occasional excess can be enjoyable too. But yes, traveling the middle path seems to work the best for me.”
He stood, taking her empty plate along with his to the sink. “Go get your shower and I will clean these dishes.
She walked up beside him, brushing her shoulder against his arm as she put the coffee cups into the sink. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”
