He nodded. “Anything’s fine, really.”
Gift watched Park as he moved so confidently around the kitchen, first pulling the ingredients, then the pots and pans he’d need. They didn’t really speak, but, sometimes, Park would step right up to him, brushing against him so he could reach for something behind him or in the cabinet above his head, and each time it happened, Park would make eye contact, giving him the barest of smiles, hand trailing over his thigh or resting on his knee for the briefest of moments. It was like some new form of erotic torture, being edged via domesticity.
When Gift couldn’t stand the cozy silence any longer, he asked, “Where did you learn to cook?”
Park looked up from where he stirred spinach into a creamy base sauce. “Here and there,” he said with a shrug. “I find it relaxing.”
His answers were always so vague. “Your mom didn’t teach you?”
Park spared him a glance and a sad, fleeting smile as he settled the pasta into boiling water. “My mom died when I was really young.”
Gift’s heart clenched. “Oh. I didn’t know.”
“Why would you?” Park said, reaching out and squeezing his knee.
Oh, yeah. Right. They weren’t friends. Park was just doing his mom a favor. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he’d misread this whole thing. “I don’t know. Just seems like something I should know about you,” Gift managed lamely.
He and his mother didn’t get along but the thought of her not being a phone call away left him feeling adrift. She didn’t understand him. She had never really even tried, but if she no longer existed, Gift wasn’t sure what he’d do.
“Are you close with your dad?”
Park snorted. “No.”
Gift’s eyes widened at the hostility in his voice. “Oh.”
Park glanced over at him. “Sorry,ouen. That wasn’t aimed at you.”
Gift nodded but remained silent for the rest of the meal prep. Once they were seated at the table, awkwardly eating in silence once again, Gift truly started to wonder if this was all there ever would be between them. Would Park ever open up to him? Gift didn’t know how to get him to let him in.
How had Payton gotten Gift to open up to him so quickly? He racked his brain trying to remember, then snickered as it came rushing back to him.“Your dad is smoking hot.”That was the first thing Payton had ever said to him, sitting on a gym mat while Archer had introduced Park to the rest of the pod. He hadn't even been offended that Payton had mistaken Park for his dad.
At Gift’s snort of laughter, Park looked up, brow raised. Gift shook his head. “Nothing.”
Park gave a single nod and reached for his wine glass.
Gift just needed to shock him into talking, just like Payton had. What could Gift ask that would shock an assassin?
A slow smile spread across his lips as the perfect question popped into his head. He leaned in, elbow resting on the table, chin on his palm, waiting until Park’s gaze met his to ask, “Have you ever fucked a virgin,hia?”
Park inhaled, then choked hard enough to send a fine mist of red wine into the air like some kind of bioweapon. Gift handed him his napkin, waiting patiently for him to regain his ability to breathe.
“Jesus, Kla,” Park said, voice raw from inhaling alcohol.
Gift shrugged, giving Park his widest most innocent eyes. "What?"
“We’re not talking about that,” Park managed, picking up his fork and attacking his pasta like it was the enemy.
“We’re not talking about anything,” Gift pointed out. “When you won’t talk to me, my mind wanders to more…inappropriate topics. You never tell me anything about yourself.”
Park narrowed his eyes at him, studying him closely. “What would you like to know, Gift?”
So many things. “How did you end up becoming an assassin? Why does most of the world think you write speeches for the ambassador of Thailand?”
Park ate the pasta on his fork, chewing for so long Gift started to wonder if he was ignoring the questions. Finally, he said, “People think I write speeches for the Thai ambassador because I do. That’s the whole point of a deep cover operative. Nobody suspects that the mild mannered number cruncher or nerdy speech writer is actually killing heads of state or neutralizing foreign threats.”
Gift nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “Did you kill people before you became an assassin…like officially?”
Park raised a brow. “I was in the military. It was part of my job.”
