Page 53 of All We Need

booth

She’s freaking out.

Or maybeI’mfreaking out.

Either way, it’s been tense sinceIwalked back into the cabin with arms full of firewood.Weboth showered—separately.Imade us lunch, and now thick, awkward silence hangs in the air.

I know little aboutAly—she prefers it that way—but her internalized thoughts were written across her face.Ifthere was one thingI’velearned, it’s not to push her.

She was a willing participant—so fucking willing and gorgeous.Igave her the opportunity to say no, and she made it very clear where we stood afterward.TheerrorImade was diving headfirst into this complex pool of feelings, without a life preserver.

But my god, was she glorious.

She owned it.Theroom.Herbody.Me.Itwas a struggle to get air in whenIwatched her take control of her pleasure.IfIhad died then, and the sight of her fucking herself on the toy was the lastthingIsaw, so be it.

Half of me was joking whenIdared her to prove it.Theother was ravenous.

So when she rose to the challenge, it shocked the hell out of me, knocked me on my ass, and left me stunned and speechless.

Well, almost.

I also couldn’t help but spur her on and shower her with praise.

Because at that moment, we were strangers, like she’d said.NotBooththe chef orAlythe owner.

Then the bubble burst and we were back to reality.

Since then, she’s avoided me, which is pretty hard in a small log cabin in the middle of nowhere.Asmuch asIlike to push her buttons, it wouldn’t be wise today.Wehave lunch, she reads her book on the sofa, andIdon’t know what the fuckI’msupposed to do.

I’m restless.Iwant to bring out myLEGO, butI’malso not in the mood for her to tease me like my brothers do.Somemight say it’s childish, but there’s something therapeutic about it.

The blizzard dies down, minutes tick by, and the silence becomes unbearable.

“We don’t have to talk about this morning, butI’mgoing out of my mind right now,”Iblurt.

She peers at me over the pages curiously. “I’mnot playingLEGO, but you’re free to do so.”

My brows slam down. “It’snotplaying.It’sa collector’s item.”

She ignores my prickly tone. “Isit a hobby?”

“I’m not answering that if you’re going to roast me.”Ipout.

My eyes fall to the table, feeling exposed.Herbook thuds closed then her socked feet appear in front of me. “Isaw it at your apartment after we went lobster fishing, and again last night.Ithought it was for your niece at first.Lottie, right?”

I look up. “ShewishesI’dlet her play with myLEGO.”

“You see how you’re asking for me to poke fun at you, right?”Shesmirks, and perches on the sofa beside me.Tomy surprise, she opens up the ottomanIstowed the half-built monument in last night and studies it. “Thislooks familiar.”

“Have you visitedItaly?”Iask.

She nods, then her eyes light up. “NicolaSalviis rolling in his grave knowing his architecture has been minimized to tiny plastic blocks.”

“You know whoSalviis?”

“Youknow whoSalviis?” she retorts.

Ignoring her jab,Ipull out the structure and bag of remaining pieces. “I’mnot some dumb chef, you know.”

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