Page 41 of Full Tilt
Shutting the cupboard, I look around Jenna’s small living space, a foreign sense of empathy for this girl creeping into my conscience as I push away memories of my childhood, along with thoughts of my mom.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I pause on stirring the one pan I could find that was suitable to make a curry and turn around to see an unimpressed Jenna, dressed in sweats and a white Storm T-shirt.
She cocks her head to the side, arms tightly folded across her chest as she approaches me.
I look down at the spoon I’m holding and then back up at Jenna. “You live like a pig, so I’m helping you become more … human.”
On a scoff, she snatches the spoon from my hand, peering over my shoulder to examine what I’m cooking.
“Where did you get all the ingredients to make that?”
She rocks back on her heels as her nose twitches at the fragrant smell rising from the butternut squash and pineapple Thai curry bubbling away behind me. There are at least three portions she can separate and store in the freezer for meals after a practice or game.
Choosing to rise above her lack of gratitude, I spin back around and stir the curry. “Everything in this pan I found in your refrigerator or cupboard. Both were unholy, by the way.”
She moves across to her fridge, ripping it open in fury. “You cleaned it!”
Jenna was only asleep for a half hour, but it didn’t take me long to disinfect. Neither did the cupboards. I knew me doing that would drive her wild, as would making her food.
“You act like it’s an issue,” I tell her. “You really do live up to the name Hellion. I’ve seen torture chambers that were more sanitary.”
She swats me in the back, and I smirk at her from over my shoulder before turning off the burner.
“You think just because we fucked, you can move about my apartment as you please?”
Her defenses are up, and I sense she’s embarrassed.
As she continues to rant at me, I begin spooning the curry into three separate containers.
“The sex wasn’t even that good. For some unknown reason, I’d thought you’d be better in bed. I guess I should’ve listened to my instincts when I first turned you down,” she laments.
Setting the pan and spoon back down on the cooling burner, I finally grant her the attention she’s craving.
“You literally had to sleep off the orgasms I gave you. Don’t start spouting more bullshit when I just made you some proper food.”
She glares at me. “You tossed my pizza out.”
“Another twenty-four hours, and it could’ve gotten up and walked out to the garbage truck itself!” I blow out, laughing at the state of it. At the state of her apartment.
She rains down plenty of judgment on me when she should take a long look at the way she lives her life.
“I couldn’t even tell what toppings you had.”
“Pepperoni,” she bites. “My favorite.”
I pretend to care. “If you’d eaten it, then you would definitely have been sick.” I mirror her stance, crossing my arms over my chest. “Look at it this way; I just saved you from starvationanda severe case of food poisoning.”
Jenna opens her mouth to argue, but I get there first.
“And I did all that without a single orgasm. I rocked your world and got nothing in return.”
She might try to hide her horror, but I see it. I don’t actually care that I didn’t come since witnessing Jenna’s euphoric state was satisfaction enough. Not that she needs to know that.
“I’m not fucking you again, if that’s what you’re after. I’m already regretting everything we did. It’ll take me months to come to terms with what I let you do.”
I take two steps toward her, enough so our bodies are almost touching. The hum of electricity—something I was sure would disappear after we fucked—is only more prevalent than before.
