NINE
Alex, who’d been watching me and Mason silently, rose from his chair as well. “Hey. Hold up. Let’s just slow things down a minute here, Mason. I think Kira has had too much wine, too fast, and on too empty of a stomach to be doing any agreeing about going into her bedroom. I suggest we heat up some dinner for her first and all just relax and eat for a bit while she gets something in her stomach and has something to drink other than wine. Then, if we all feel like it, we can revisit the bedroom issue.”
Suddenly mad, and more than a little bit, I turned my gaze from Alex to Mason. “Please set me down on my feet. I’m going to give Alex a piece of my mind.”
Mason instantly did as I’d asked, setting me on my feet. Immediately, the room seemed to spin around me, but just for a second or two, and I somehow managed to remain upright. I also managed to fold my arms across my chest while glaring at Alex, with the act of doing these two things simultaneously seeming to require more coordination that it should have.
“You, Alex. Don’t you dare try to imply that I’ve had too much to drink.” Immediately realizing that I’d slurred my words so badly that the word drink had come out as rink, I tried again. “Drink. That’s what I meant to say. Don’t you dare try to imply that I’ve had too much to drink.” Realizing that I’d messed up once again, saying mush instead of much, I took a deep breath, miles beyond irritated with myself. “See, Alex? See what you’re making me do? You’re making me mess up my words, because of what you said. So, just listen to me right now. Just shut up and listen. Don’t you dare try to tell me how much I’ve had to drink, and don’t you even dare try to imply that I haven’t had too much or not enough. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“No. Think about what you just said. How dare I try to imply that you ‘haven’t had too much’ alcohol or ‘not enough?’ You’re not even making sense anymore.”
Dizzy with anger from Alex’s stern response, on top of how dizzy I’d already been just from standing, I suddenly began swaying on my feet. I might have fallen over, but he immediately caught me in his strong arms and set me down in my chair.
“All right. That’s it. You’re officially cut off from wine and all other forms of alcohol for the rest of the night, Kira. Mason and I are going to go heat up some dinner, and in the meantime, you’re just going to sit here at the table and relax. Do you understand me?”
Looking up at Alex where he was standing beside my chair, I suddenly felt like a chastised child who’d been caught doing something naughty. Which seemed like it should have made me mad. It seemed like it actually should have made me livid. However, for some strange reason, I just found myself nodding in response to what Alex had said.
“Yes. I understand you.”
“Good. Now, just sit tight, and we’ll be back in a few minutes.”
After he’d grabbed the wine and whiskey bottles from the table, he and Mason left the dining room, leaving me all alone.
However, not even half a minute later, Alex returned, bearing two dinner rolls, one wheat and one white, on a little plate, which he set in front of me. “Here. Try to nibble on something while you’re waiting.”
Feeling somehow like a chastised child again, I snorted. “No, you nibble on something while you’re waiting.”
I knew that I now was literally acting like a child, but I’d found it impossible to stop myself.
In response to my immature behavior, Alex gave me a stern look. “No, Kira. No more sass. Or else I will soon take you in your bedroom, but only to sit you in the corner for a time-out because, frankly, you're acting like a complete brat. Have I made myself clear?”
For the second time, I found myself just nodding at him for some weird reason. “Yes. You’ve made yourself clear.”
“Good.”
After giving me something that resembled a stern look of warning, Alex turned to leave the dining room again. With my breathing and heartbeat accelerating, I watched him as he left, taking in his long legs, his tight rear, and his powerful, broad shoulders. I only turned back to the table and the rolls he’d brought me once he’d completely disappeared from my view.
In the glow from the lamps, the chandelier, and the twin taper candles, I began eating one of the rolls, realizing that I had drunk my three glasses of wine pretty fast. Not to mention that I hadn’t had anything to eat since having a pretty light lunch, which had been a good seven hours earlier. I knew I really should have been a little more aware of exactly how much I was drinking, and how fast I was drinking, especially since I’d always been kind of a lightweight when it came to alcohol. However, with Mason making so many suggestive jokes, my mind had of course been on other things.
When I was chewing the last bite of my roll, I realized that I’d maybe begun to sober up a bit already, just in the three or four minutes or so since I’d started eating. I also realized something else. Although he was certainly commanding and stern, Alex wasn’t exactly behaving like someone I would never want a relationship with. In fact, I was starting to find him even more attractive than the day before, despite the fact that we didn’t seem to be a personality match.
I was also becoming increasingly endeared to Mason the longer I spent time with him. Even though he seemed to have no issues with taking very intoxicated women to bed, there was some kind of warmth about him that struck me as irresistibly sincere.
He and Alex soon returned from the kitchen and began putting plates full of hot food on the table. Alex set my plate of food in front of me, along with a linen napkin and some silverware, telling me to enjoy.
Still tipsy, I just stared at the food in front of me for a moment with my head slightly spinning. Then, I looked up at Alex, suddenly feeling some extremely strange mix of confusion, anger, and melancholy. “Why would you serve me this?”
He frowned. “Because it’s time for dinner…and because you also need to get something substantial in your stomach to help sober you up.”
“But…why this particular food?”
Seeming not to notice my emotional upheaval, Alex frowned even harder. “It’s delicious. It was made by the commander’s private chef.”
With a little wave of nausea, I looked at my dinner plate, which contained a bacon-wrapped chicken breast, whole green beans with slivered almonds, and wild rice pilaf. Bacon-wrapped chicken breast had been one of my mom’s signature dishes, which she made fairly frequently because my dad and I had liked it so much. Sometimes, when we were feeling extremely decadent, she’d add cheese inside the chicken breast for a little extra deliciousness. She’d done this for my dad’s last birthday meal, which had been the night before he and my mom had been killed in a car accident. It had been the last meal we’d ever shared together as a family. Since then, I hadn’t been able to make her special signature dish, let alone think about eating it without her and my dad.
In my still-intoxicated state, and with my memories seeming to take over my brain, I was becoming miles beyond confused, and miles beyond sad and angry too. For whatever odd reason, all I could think about was that Alex must have requested that the chef make bacon-wrapped chicken as some kind of a sick joke. I knew this was quite a paranoid thought. I knew it was maybe even a crazy thought. Just the same, though, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking it.
Before I really even knew what I was doing, I suddenly flew up from my chair and turned to face Alex. “How could you do this to me?”
Looking absolutely perplexed, he frowned at me. “Look. Whatever ‘this’ is, just know that it wasn’t intentional.”
Not convinced at all, I snorted, folding my arms across my chest. “Sure, it wasn’t. You know, you can drop the act, Alex. I'm not buying it even a little bit. You had to have done this on purpose; I just know it. You had the chef make bacon-wrapped chicken for some kind of a sick joke, just because for whatever sick reason, you wanted to remind me of my mom’s special dish, and you wanted to remind me that she and my dad are dead, and they’re never coming back. Please don’t even try to deny it.”
Alex frowned even harder, furrowing his dark brows. “Look. I'm really sorry, Kira. I didn’t mean to remind you of anything sad, and I didn’t mean to make you upset. I didn’t even tell the chef to make anything specific. I think I just requested ‘a nice dinner,’ and when he asked what you like or if you have any food allergies, I just said, ‘I have no idea.’ I know so little about you that I didn’t even have a clue that your parents are deceased. I’m very sorry to hear that now.”
Alex’s expression was one of complete sincerity, and I might have accepted that he was telling me the truth. However, my mind was still too clouded by alcohol to allow me to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Ignoring what he had said, I practically spat my next words at him. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I’m just not convinced. You setting a plate with bacon-wrapped chicken in front of me is just too big of a coincidence for it to not somehow be intentional.”
Alex snorted. “You really think bacon-wrapped chicken is that obscure of a dish? I can think of three restaurants here in the city that serve it, and the wife of a friend of mine makes it for his birthday meal every single year.”
“Oh, I’m aware that some people like it for a birthday meal. It was my dad’s last birthday meal, which my mom and I ate with him the day before they were killed in a car accident. There were still even leftovers in the fridge at the time, and I left them in there until they literally started rotting, just because I knew that once I threw them out, I’d never have any of my mom’s cooking in the fridge ever again. It was just kind of a comfort thing; I don’t know.”
I hadn’t even realized that my eyes had begun misting up, but now a hot tear slid down my face, and I impatiently wiped it away.
“Anyway, Alex…forget the whole thing with the chicken. It doesn’t even matter. All that does matter is that I just don’t trust you. All that does matter is that I can’t help but feel like you have something against me, just because you’ve been acting so cold and strange to me all day.”
Alex opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.
“No, please just don’t. Please just don’t say anything. I’m done talking, and I’m done thinking. I just want to go to sleep, to be honest. So, you and Mason, too...please just leave. Please just leave my apartment and please just leave me the hell alone.”
Alex, who’d been standing silently, just looking at me, now spoke in a low, measured voice. “I think you have the right idea about just going to sleep, and Mason and I will leave you to it right now, because alcohol clearly makes you paranoid and angry. Goodnight, Kira. I hope you wake up tomorrow completely sober, if not for your own sake, for Mason’s and mine.”
With that, he began striding out of the dining room, and Mason followed after a mumbled goodnight, frowning.