Chapter 15
When I get to my apartment building a few nights later, there’s a distinct aroma wafting down the hallway. I assume a neighbor is making dinner, but when I arrive at my front door, I realize the smell is unmistakably emitting from my apartment. Confused and slightly alarmed, I unlock my door and enter. What I see makes sense, bizarre though it may be: Verit, looking handsome as always with his sleeves rolled up and the stained denim apron that usually hangs in my pantry tied around his waist, standing over my stove, stirring a big pot. I easily forgive the troublesome yet unsurprising fact that he’s apparently broken into my apartment, because holy shit, this scene is sexy.
“This is a surprise,” I say, setting my bag down in the foyer and shrugging off my jacket.
“I thought we’d agreed to dinner tonight,” Verit says.
“Yeah, but I thought that meant a restaurant, later, maybe after I showered and changed.”
I gesture at the yoga pants and oversized tee I’m wearing, and Verit just smiles.
“I think you look delightful, as usual,” he says. I roll my eyes, biting back a secret smile.
“I’m gonna go change anyway,” I say.
I rapidly throw on jeans and a comfy but flattering sweater, and shake my hair out of its messy ponytail. When I reemerge, bare feet patting quietly on the hardwood, Verit is ladling the contents of the pot into bowls.
“Do you need help with anything?” I ask, feeling awkward in my own home. I’ve gotten good at our game, but tonight Verit is playing a wild card I didn’t even know was in the deck.
“I’ve got it,” he says, gesturing for me to go sit in the dining room.
The table there is set more formally than it has been since I moved here, with a small candle lit and everything. He gently sets a bowl in front of me, and the whole thing feels so unsettlingly… Romantic? Domestic?
I push the thought aside and focus on my meal. It looks kind of like a stew, with chunky vegetables bobbing in a thick, pale red sauce.
“Thanks for cooking,” I call out as Verit heads back to the kitchen for something. I play with my spoon nervously, waiting for him to return. “Do you cook often? Your kitchen looked pretty… unused.”
“When I have reason to,” he says, reemerging with a bottle of red wine and pouring us both glasses. “With our technology it’s not necessary, but since arriving here I’ve found the process of manually putting together a meal very satisfying.”
He sits, and I take a bite of my stew. “Oh my god, Verit, this is incredible.”
It’s creamy, with rich flavor. I recognize squash, sweet potato, and carrot in the mix. I can’t identify one ingredient, though. The small orbs look like red peas, but have the meaty texture of a bean.
Verit has been watching me, and grins when I look up at him with a perplexed expression.
“I see you’ve found my secret ingredient,” he says. “Those are a type of berry from Krina.”
My eyes widen. I’ve never had real K food before. Although the K have been living among us for a while, in my experience it’s uncommon for them to share their culture like this. I take another bite, savoring the unfamiliar sweet, slightly spicy taste of the berries with new appreciation.
“Wow, Verit, thank you,” I say after a moment. “I’m not really sure what to say.”
He shrugs it off, and asks about my day. I make half-assed small talk, my mind still buzzing with alarm. I know I should be grateful for this thoughtful evening, but my guard is up. Is this a date? It feels a lot like a date, not our usual kind that is essentially just foreplay, but a serious one. My insides feel restless within my skin. A casual fling with a K is one thing. This feels almost too real.
It’s his night, but after dinner I fake a headache. It’s the oldest trick in the book, but I’m hoping maybe the Krinar haven’t heard about this particular cliche yet. Either way, he offers to fetch his K healing technology, but I tell him it’s okay, he can go, and he begrudgingly does so, only after cleaning my kitchen thoroughly and all but tucking me into bed.
After he leaves, I lie awake and wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. A gorgeous man—with the sickest dick game I’ve ever experienced—made me an incredible meal, just because. Why is this causing me so much distress? He’s beautiful, with incandescent eyes, the softest hair, and a body that makes me swoon. He’s intelligent beyond my understanding, funny in a weird way, and always listens so intently to even my dumbest rambling. And, my god, does he know how to work my body.
I’ve never really had commitment issues, not with human men. But the idea of a serious relationship with a K makes my stomach twist, even after all these weeks sharing my bed with Verit. I’m still so scared of the consequences, of what my friends would think, what my family would think, of what I would think of myself.
But one loud worry rises above all the rest, perhaps the biggest of them all: I think I’m starting to fall for him.