Sumettikul's Universe

{5} The Morning After

Me neither – oh he’s laughing at me, the bastard. I didn’t ask him to come and get me. Somehow I’ve been made to feel like the villain of the piece.

“You didn’t have to track me down with whatever James Bond stuff you’re developing for the highest bidder,” I snap at him. He stares at me, surprised, and if I’m not mistaken, a little wounded.

“Firstly, the technology to track cell phones is available over the Internet. Secondly, my company does not invest or manufacture any kind of surveillance devices, and thirdly, if I hadn’t come to get you, you’d probably be waking up in the photographer’s bed, and from what I can remember, you weren’t overly enthused about him pressing his suit,” He says acidly.

Pressing his suit! I glance up at Bible, he’s glaring at me, his eyes blazing, aggrieved. I try to bite my lip, but I fail to repress my laughter.

“Which medieval chronicle did you escape from?” I giggle. “You sound like a courtly knight.”

His mood visibly shifts. His eyes soften and his expression warms, and I see a trace of a smile on his beautifully chiselled lips.

“Build, I don’t think so. Dark knight maybe.” His smile is sardonic, and he shakes his head. “Did you eat last night?” His tone is accusatory. I shake my head. What major transgression have I committed now? His jaw clenches, but his face remains impassive.

“You need to eat. That’s why you were so ill. Honestly Build, its drinking rule number one.” He runs this hand through his hair, and I know it’s because he’s exasperated.

“Are you going to continue to scold me?”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“I think so.”

“You’re lucky I’m just scolding you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday. You didn’t eat, you got drunk, and you put yourself at risk.” He closes his eyes, dread etched on his lovely face, and he shudders slightly. When he opens his eyes, he glares at me. “I hate to think what could have happened to you.”

I scowl back at him. What is his problem? What’s it to him? If I was his...well I’m not. Though maybe, part of me would like to be. The thought pierces through the irritation I feel at his high-handed words. I flush at the waywardness of my subconscious – he’s do­ing his happy dance at the thought of being his.

“I would have been fine. I was with Us.”

“And the photographer?” He snaps at me.

Hmm...young Nodt. I’ll need to face him at some point.

“Nodt just got out of line.” I shrug.

“Well the next time he gets out of line, maybe someone should teach him some man­ners.”

“You are quite the disciplinarian,” I hiss at him.

“Oh, Build, you have no idea.” His eyes narrow, and then he grins wickedly. It’s disarming. One minute, I’m confused and angry, the next I’m gazing at his gorgeous smile. Wow...I am entranced, and it’s because his smile is so rare. I quite forget what he’s talk­ing about.

“I’m going to have a shower. Unless you’d like to shower first?” He cocks his head to one side, still grinning. My heartbeat has picked up, and my medulla oblongata has ne­glected to fire any synapses to make me breathe. His grin widens, and he reaches over and runs his thumb down my cheek and across my lower lip.