“Shh, I’m sleeping.” He turns my words around, and I sigh as I relax. It’s quiet for a moment, his hand sliding up and down my back, making me shiver.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “Thank you for caring about me enough to do that for me. It’s sweet. Absolutely psychotic, but sweet as hell.”
“You’re welcome.” He kisses me again. “Now, sleep. I’m tired.”
THIRTY-NINE
Zia looks distressed. I have to turn away. He’s so fucking adorable, I might actually die. He’s always calm and cold with those around him, so when he softens and allows himself to be vulnerable just for me, I can’t stand it.
“Nikkie,” he whines. “It won’t cut properly.”
When he said he wanted to learn how to cook, I thought he was joking. His chef and staff were horrified. He has them to do it all for him, so why would he learn? He said he knew I enjoyed it, and he wanted to try, hence why we are in his state-of-the-art kitchen as I try to teach him one of my favorite dishes.
Blowing out a breath to keep myself in check, since I just want to grab his face and kiss the shit out of him, I walk closer and lean over his shoulder. I have to remind myself this is a man who could kill someone with one word, yet when he looks at me, his lips pouted, he’s just my baby.
“Look.” He gestures down at the roll he’s cutting. The lines are shit, and it’s falling apart. He looks so upset, and I know he’s trying his hardest.
“Baby, it isn’t your fault. The knife isn’t sharp enough,” I tell himas I take it away and get a better one, then I slice it for him even though I know the other knife was perfectly fine. “See?”
He frowns but nods, and when we move onto the stove, he struggles again, staring down at the blanched vegetables he somehow burnt. “The stove was too hot,” I say as I throw it away and start again.
“It’s everyone else’s fault, huh?” Yuki asks. I forgot he’s here. He raises his eyebrows as I meet his gaze. “God forbid sir actually did something wrong.”
“Zia can do no wrong,” I scoff. “Do you want food or not?”
I like Yuki because he makes Zia happy. It’s clear he considers him a close friend, and the fact that Yuki feels comfortable enough to tease him where many others don’t lets me know he feels the same way.
“It depends if it’s edible.” When Zia glares at him, he grins. “Sir.”
“It isn’t too late for us to not be friends,” Zia warns.
“You have no other friends, sir,” Yuki replies casually and then goes back to reading on his iPad as Zia gapes. He looks at me in astonishment.
“I need to cut his pay. He’s gotten mouthy,” he mutters, but I know it’s bullshit. Zia loves Yuki like a brother and would do anything for him. The fact that Yuki seems comfortable enough to sass him makes Zia happy, and he’s grinning when we finally plate the simple meal.
I set Yuki’s down as we sit at the table, and he eyes it like he’s worried it will kill him, but Zia looks so hopeful that he picks up a fork and takes a delicate bite.
“It isn’t . . . bad,” Yuki comments. “Well done, sir.”
“Yes, well, I am exceptional, so of course I can master cooking,” Zia states as he takes a bite.
“Absolutely.” I kiss his cheek.
“As crazy as each other,” Yuki mutters.
We don’t talk much as we eat, and I’m so proud of Zia for doing well at cooking. I don’t suspect he will do it much, but the fact that he wanted to learn is cute.
I kiss his neck. “You’re adorable, you know that?”
“Hmm, feel free to remind me anytime.” He winks. “Especially with that move you did last night.”
The sound of a chair scraping makes us pull apart, and Yuki stands, scrambling to shove the food in his mouth in the most undignified display I’ve ever seen from him.
Putting his plate in the sink, Yuki waves at us. “I’m leaving now before you two start going at it on the counter.”
“I was actually thinking the table,” Zia retorts, “but see you later. Make sure to take the rest of the afternoon off, remember?”
“Yes, sir,” Yuki calls as he departs, and then Zia looks at me, his eyes darkening with hunger. My body reacts, just like it always does when he even glances at me.
