Ropes and Lace | MM Romance PREVIEW

Chapter 22 - Prepare Me

"You didn't have to flush the wine."

This is the third time I've emphasized this and I'm not surprised that Elliot rolls his eyes in exasperation at my insistence. When he mentioned that he would during my lengthy and regrettable speech in which I enumerated the extensive list of characteristics that some, if not most, might consider flaws, I thought he was joking, trying to downplay the seriousness of the matter or make me feel better. But no... he was serious. As soon as I carefully detached Spaghetti from his ankle and he was free to move, he scurried off to the small guest bathroom in the living room for several minutes.

I took the opportunity to organize the table; I placed the nicest dishes I own (which I was lucky enough to get on sale at a quaint antique store before I lost my previous job), a fancy set of silverware that my parents gave me last Christmas, and a couple of glasses that, if you examine them closely, you'll notice are slightly different. I served the food, washed the pots and pans, and sat down to wait for him with an expectant knot in my stomach. It was his faint, almost soundless footsteps that alerted me of his reappearance and I couldn't suppress my gasp of astonishment at the sight of the bottle, now empty, in one of his elegant hands.

Elliot strode confidently and in total silence to the trash can in the corner of my kitchen to dispose of it, boasting of his excellent memory and meticulous attention to detail, for he didn't ask me for guidance and marched without hesitation toward his goal, despite this being the first time he has ever set foot in my house. He then gracefully plopped down in the chair next to me, gave me a short kiss on the cheek, and proceeded to eat as if nothing had happened.

I was so dumbfounded that I couldn't even successfully react to the perverse, erotically exaggerated moans he purposely made as he tasted bite after bite, just as he did days ago with the simple dinner I prepared for him, his gaze fixed on mine with tinges of amusement and mischief radiating in the gorgeous green of his irises.

And that's how part of lunch went; when my brain came out of its stupor and back into the equation, of course. A cozy calm tucked us in like a warm, fluffy blanket, disturbed only in the fleeting moments when we flirted, chatted about shared interests, trivial things or, as at this very moment, when I couldn't help but complain about the waste of a good liquor that he was kind enough to buy... and that I agreed to from the start.

"Forget it already, Ashton," Elliot sighs with annoyance, pushing his plate away without a crumb in sight with a delicate flick of his wrist. I'm not going to lie, the image floods me with pride.

"But it had to have cost a fortune," I press, my brow furrowed. I know Elliot doesn't skimp when it comes to spending his money, if his lavish apartment in a pompous building called "Heaven of Angels" and his vast collection of those disturbingly exclusive figurines are any indication. I'm not a jerk either; I'm not going to demand how, when, and on what he should do it, but as someone who is quite concerned about saving and not squandering a penny, it's hard for me to conceive that he wouldn't hesitate or rethink such a determination.

"Meh, no need to make a fuss over a measly two grand," he shrugs and pretends to brush dirt particles off his shirt.

"What?! Two thousand?!" I scream, incredulous and horrified. Of course, I assumed it would be a high amount, but nothing drastically close to that. Cold sweat fogs my temples and I cast a shivering glance in the direction of the toilet, wondering if it will be too late to rescue even a cup of the precious liquid.

But then Elliot bursts out laughing and, to my gigantic relief, I realize that the jerk was pulling my leg. My initial reflex is to get angry, imagining a hundred different ways I could strangle him. However, as he continues to sneer and his breathing becomes labored, as there are unshed tears on his long eyelashes and even his ears are flushed from suffocation, the rage and fight drain from my system, and without delay I'm laughing as well, accepting defeat and making a mental note to remind myself that I should be more suspicious and not so innocent whenever he's involved.