Page 50 of Perfect
“Uh, I don’t know.” He frowns down at the bowl of marinated chicken in his hands.
“Well, it’s got wine in it, so I figured it might go over well,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to joke, but it’s sharp and forced. He walks close to me and pulls a bottle of red wine from a full wine rack and uncorks a bottle, pouring it slowly into a decanter sitting on the counter.
Who the fuck owns adecanter?
He catches me looking at it and flashes me a small smile. “I know you like wine, so I’ve been getting into it, too. I’ve got some pinot gris before dinner, if you want?” I nod. I probably shouldn’t drink around him, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to die, so I don’t see the harm.
He grabs a bottle from the fridge and pours me a glass, but when I don’t take it right away, he shrugs and takes a long sip, refilling the glass and setting it before me. I watch him cook for a minute and then drink the whole glass at once, not tasting it at all. It doesn’t help my nerves, so I pour another one to the brim and start drinking quickly.
We’re quiet as he focuses on cooking, Theo humming to the music as the kitchen starts to smell of bacon and butter and chicken. He smiles at me tightly as he catches my eye.
“How was your day, sweetheart?”
“Um, long. I’m tired.”
He frowns a little. “Do you get insomnia often?”
“Uh, no, not really.”
“Okay, well,pleasedon’t take that Ambien that Suzie gave you, okay? You shouldn’t take it if you drink.” He looks betweenthe bottle and the wine glass in my hand, surprised. “Especially with howmuchyou drink,” he mutters. I nod slowly, ignoring his passive-aggressive comment as I work through the second glass of wine and empty the bottle into the glass. I canfinallyfeel the wine hitting me, and I realize I’ve had almost a whole bottle of wine on an empty stomach in less than half an hour.
Whatever. If I’m going to die, I’d like to experience it as little as possible.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
I snort, and I can’t filter myself in time. “Some crazy asshole broke into my house and raped me,” I snap. His head jerks up towards me, his eyes wide.
“Alexandria, what thefuckare you talking about?” I choke out a laugh. Is he seriously this delusional?
“It wasyou,” I say, drawing the words out. Theo’s face goes from horrified to angry.
“That is fuckingbullshit,” he snaps as he walks towards the island, leaning close to me. “First, I have keys, so I didn’t break in. Second, youlovedthe sex.” My cheeks burn, and his face slowly turns from angry to somewhat relieved. “Third, please stop insulting me. I don’t fucking like it.” He grabs my wine and starts drinking it as he retreats to the stove, removing the chicken from the large pan with an incredulous, frustrated look. “I don’t understand why you would fucking say that,” he mutters, shaking his head.
“Because that’s what happened.” I know I shouldn’t push, but if I’m going to die, I’d rather die being honest for once. He looks over at me, shocked and concerned as he stares at me intently.
“Say that again. Right now.”
“That’s whathappened,” I say slowly, and Theo’s eyebrows quirk together a little. He blinks, his face becoming intensely focused.
“What’s your full name?”
I frown at him, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Answer the question.”
I roll my eyes. “Alexandria Marie Shearer.” He blinks quickly, his head tilting to the side just a little.
“Where are you from?”
“Bangor, Maine.”
“Did you like the sex?” Heat creeps into my face.
“No.” He smirks a little, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, suddenly more relaxed.
“Oh, so youdidn’tlike getting tied up and forced to come? That’s not something you’re into?” he teases, and I go cold immediately.
“No.”
