Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll run to Kerim, just like I ran to you.” I snap and finally manage to pull the door closed. Reversing out of there, I try to ignore the look of devastation on his face but it’s impossible. It’ll be forever burned onto my retinas.
But I can’t simply let go of the fact that he holds such circumstantial things against me. Does he regret it? Does he wish he never made a move on his brother’s girl? Is that what this is all about now? He always said that I was his first. Did he mean it?
None of it can be painted that black and white. What happened can’t be summed up into a single paragraph. How dare he judge me? He was in on it too. Does he blame himself as much as he seems to be blaming me? Or are his insecurities fuelling a ridiculous notion that wouldn’t even cross his mind otherwise? Not that that makes it any better if that’s the case.
I just wish he’d snap out of it or at least try to rein it in. I can’t play the victim entirely. I have spoken about Kerim too fondly lately and I know that it’s not helping, but it is purely innocent. There’s nothing between us at all. He’s just… my idol or something along those lines. I have so much respect for him. Why does Nathan have to tarnish that? Why does he have to turn it into something dirty and wrong?
Nathan: Please come home. Please. I promise I won’t argue anymore. I just want you here.
I read that message at a traffic light and in the distance is a roundabout. I could turn back and continue this, or I could do what he did and stay away for the entire night. I’m not sure what would be better in the long run.
I need ice-cream.
I’m wasting a kid free night with all this moping. Sighing heavily I make a U-turn on the roundabout and drive all the way home.
Nathan, seeming to be watching for me, comes racing out of the house and pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop.” His confusion over my word makes me smile. “You’re coming with me for the night.”
“Where are we going?”
“For ice cream.”
“That sounds excellent,” he grins, kissing my moist lips. “Maybe we can take some home with us.”
“You’re so dirty minded,” I giggle, leading him to my car. “I’m driving.”
“You’re really not,” he tells me, pulling me to his. “You’re going to sit in the passenger seat and relax.”
“Fine, but if you detour I’m not sucking ice-cream off your cock later.”
Choking a little, he pulls open my car door and adjusts himself. “Don’t tease.”
“Hurry up or we won’t get my favourite,” I call as he rounds the front of the car and folds himself into the driver’s seat. I’m relieved that the car is still cool from our previous trip as the outside is so muggy and warm. That’s the problem with English weather - when it’s hot, it’s heavy and damp.
“Thank you for coming back.”
“There’s a purpose behind my mood swing,” I assure him, setting my determined gaze on the road ahead. “Take a left…”
Five minutes later we sit in the staff carpark of my work place. I can tell Nathan isn’t pleased by my bringing him here but I couldn’t care less.
“You said ice-cream,” he murmurs, his brow furrowed with annoyance.
“I wasn’t lying about the ice-cream.”
“Why are we here?”
“I want you to see my job and meet my co-workers.”
“Seriously?”
“We did it for you,” I snap, irritated by his attitude. “It’s your turn.”
“You’re right, sorry,” he mutters. “Just… don’t say anything to Kerim.”
“Duh.” I take his hand. “Let’s go.”
“Won’t they be too busy?”
“Always,” I reply, grinning as we near the building. The beautiful smells waft out of the slightly cracked door. I notice a tin of chillies holding it open and roll my eyes. He shouldn’t leave the door open, especially not with food produce. I should purchase a door stop but then I’d be permitting the door to be open.
“Are you sure we’re allowed?”
“Stop being a baby.” I pull the door open and lead Nathan inside. The glow of the kitchen comes through the light of the glass on the second door. We close the exit behind us and push through.
I smile at the sight of everyone working hard, flipping things at their stations, tossing herbs into pots on the stove, slicing meat ready for cooking. Kerim’s orders carry above everyone else’s voices.
They haven’t noticed us enter, too enthralled by their own world, so I pull Nathan to the private area of the kitchen where customers can’t see into and take his jacket.
It’s Harold who notices us first and salutes us with two fingers from his chef hat. This draws the eyes of the others and everyone greets me.