Together, we made sandwiches, wrapping them in parchment paper before stacking them in the fridge. We shared one, feeding each other instead of ourselves while we sat on the counter in quiet.
* * *
I layon my back with my feet on the wall, a book in my hands as I read. Zilan was a good writer. Filled with plot and romance, angst and so much damn emotion, it wasn’t surprising to find that he’s a bestselling author.
Though reading was never one of my preferred pastimes, when I found out that Zilan was a writer, I decided to pick one up. This one was wrestling and though those damn outfits or whatever left nothing to the imagination—and I’ve never seen an actual woody while watching a match in clips online—there were sensual and tension-filled moments on pages. It was hot.
A shadow fell over me and I looked up to see the writer himself. He grinned down, his brown eyes made dark by the lack of lighting in the room.
“Enjoying that?” he asked.
I nodded, grinning at him. “Just read the docking scene.”
He smiled widely. “Yeah?”
“It’s not something I paid much attention to but how many storms do I have uncut?”
Zilan chuckled, positioning himself next to me and mimicking my position so his feet were on the wall with mine. “The twins, Bronte, and Tem.”
“And this is something you’ve witnessed?” I asked.
His grin was wicked. “Yes. When I need to see something, I ask for volunteers to act it out for me. Our men are all about helping further each other’s careers.”
I laughed, pressing my shoulder to his. “Why not just do it yourself?”
“I have. But that’s telling me what it feels like. Sometimes I need to see it as a third party non-participant so I can properly describe it.”
I imagined him watching and thought about how sexy that was. Shaking the thought away, I asked, “And the sports? Do you ask them to play that out, too?”
Zilan laughed. “No. They’re not into playing sports though they’ll watch with me from time to time.”
He reached for the book, and I released the side I was holding. After skimming the page I was on, he smiled. “This is one of my favorite parts,” he murmured. “Dylan realizing that maybe there’s something beyond his obsession with wrestling that has nothing to do with the sport itself but being close to another man like that.”
I licked my lips, nodding. Being inside the character’s head as he struggled almost made it feel like it was my struggle. For a second, as my eyes moved over the lines, I thought I was hearing them in my head. But as Zilan turned the page, I realized he was reading it out loud. His voice low.
No wonder the character voices sounded like Zilan. He was a damn good narrator.
* * *
There wereplaces to watch movies all through the house and I flitted from room to room as the days passed to try to create memories of each room. I didn’t want to forget them. In my last moments of life, I wanted to live in these moments. Having spent some of these too-short days throughout my new home with my men.
I stepped foot into the TV room at the front of the house off the kitchen. The room that always felt hidden away. With a bowl of popcorn, I sat on the sectional and stared at the television blankly. Movies seemed like such a waste of time. But what else would one do in this room?
Popping a blown kernel in my mouth, I savored the uber buttery flavor as I chewed and stared at the still blank screen. My eyes flitted to the door when Notus walked in. He was shirtless, showing off the full sleeve that moved to his pectorals on his right side and the half sleeve on his left.
His chest was covered in dark hair that trailed down his hard abdominals, disappearing into his jeans. His lips curled slightly as he picked up the remote off the table and sat beside me, offering it to me.
I took it, pointed it at the console, and flicked it on.
Notus leaned in close, wrapping his arm over my shoulders and tucking me into his side. I offered him popcorn, and he took a couple kernels.
“I think it needs more butter,” he said after a minute.
I looked up at him, eyes wide, only to find him smirking at me. Grinning, I settled back. “Only have one life and I like uber buttery popcorn.”
Notus chuckled. “Fair enough.”
Flipping through the channels, and then the different streaming apps we had, I found nothing that grabbed my attention at all. I’d run out of popcorn twenty minutes ago.
