A little past midnight, I found myself wandering towards the kitchen for a late snack. As a child, I'd made a habit of waking up during the wee hours of the night to consume any meal worth getting my hands on. It was something that Mrs. Franks had always scolded me for, but that I never quite managed to break from.
Now that I was much older, the arduous routine had finally caught up to me. While some customarily relied on coffee to function in the morning, I consistently needed my midnight stack or intense migraines awaited me the following day.
Once I reached the kitchen, I mindlessly rummaged through the fridge until I was welcomed by the underwhelming sight of store-bought Alfredo pasta. I assumed Coco had brought it with her, since she couldn't go anywhere without the damn dish. In fact, I was almost sure she had been eating it the day we met.
Convinced that she wouldn't mind me taking a small sample from the container, I loaded an agreeable amount onto my plate and placed it into the microwave. While the food took up the process of heating, I decided to pass time by exploring the ominous living space.
From the seemingly ancient portraits, taxidermy, and propped birch logs, something about the house had left me feeling eerie. Walking through the first dimly-lit hallway, I cut my journey short when I spotted an old antique doll perched on top of a dusty bookshelf. The doll stared blankly at me, causing me to nearly trip off a creak on the hollowed wooden floor.
Hurrying back to the kitchen, I returned to the simple task of waiting for my food to finish warming so that I could quickly return to my room. When a strange sound from the back door incidentally caught my attention, I immediately lost my mind. Grabbing a butter knife from one of the nearby cabinets, I fearfully waited for what I assumed to be an envisioned intruder attempting to make their way inside the house.
When the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard approaching the kitchen, I readied myself for whatever was to appear around the corner. Impulsively lurching forward with the knife tightly clenched in my hands, I darted aimlessly towards the head of a shadowy figure.
"Sasha, what the hell are you doing?" Kendall's cold hand caught mine, as I instantly dropped the useless kitchen knife onto the floor. The weapon spun around for a number of times, until gravity chose to act on it.
"I-I'm sorry, I thought that you were um.." Now that I had time to logically consider the unlikely nature of a home invasion when the property had been thoroughly surrounded with security, I no longer felt the need to voice my previous concerns.
"You what? Thought that I was a fucking thief?" His unfettered mockery caused me to gain a small surge of annoyance.
However, my peaking irritation hadn't been enough to blind me from how appealing his current presentation was. He wore a scarfed beanie that tucked away his dark locks. His nose held a small red tint and his eye glasses were set symmetrically upon his somber face.
It was quite ironic how he almost appeared youthful standing before me in such an unguarded state. But, somehow still effortlessly sexy. Reluctantly, my eyes travelled to the laptop securely tucked into his side.
"Were you working outside? It's almost 2am, Kendall." I said distractedly, only to realize how I had come off like a scolding mother.
"Yes, I know. I am fully capable of reading the time." His eyes were doing that thing they did, where they peered so menacingly at me, making me want to shrivel up into a shell.
The piercing sound of the microwave went off, allowing me to momentarily remove myself from his hold before I became consumed by his domineering aura. I internally thanked the machine for providing a convenient escape from my own personalized dose of heroin that was Kendall Fine.
Opening the microwave, I set my freshly-warmed food onto the counter in search of a fork and stack of napkins. However, when I returned to the counter to take my pasta, I could feel Kendall's daunting stare. Fixated on every part of me, dismembering me piece by piece.
"That was cute. What you did earlier." He finally remarked, allowing for a brief moment of silence. He only then began to stalk towards me.
"I'm not sure what you mean. It was nothing more than a dare." I dismissed, grabbing my food and turning away from him. I knew exactly what he was referencing, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of succumbing to his mind games this time.
But, one of his sturdy hands had already latched onto my waist, pulling me back around and returning my plate to its previous position on the counter. He took a few steps forward, until I was wantonly trapped between the counter and his grimacing body.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, or should I remind you?" His eyes roamed scathingly across my frame. He rocked his feet side-to-side, testing my resolve as he sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth. I so desperately wanted to smack off the obnoxious smirk that had begun to make itself known on his charming face.
"Okay, I gave you a lap dance. So what?" I continued, analyzing his every movement and equally matching his torment.
"Well, there's a certain problem I have and it's only right that you be the one to fix it." His tone darkened, as his head motioned towards his groin.
"Really? That was hours ago. I don't think it's possible-" I was interrupted by his hand, which had aggressively clasped onto mine and placed it on the entirety of his prominent appendage.
"Yes, it's very possible. What can I say? I am a very insatiable man."
I had been rendered speechless, as several questions filtered through my head by the second. Should I move my hand? Or, should I just leave it there? What the hell did he expect me to do after putting me on the spot like that?
Leaning forward, he allowed his cheek to softly brush against the side of my face. Then, he did something unexpected. My heart fluttered as I watched him bring his lips to my forehead, gently pressing them down onto my temple.
"Goodnight Sasha." He remarked, then strolled off towards his room.
~~~
According to Ahmad's text this morning, the majority of the day would be spent at the local skiing slopes. Given my very unfavorable track record with doing any kind of egregious activity in the snow, I wasn't too big a fan.
In middle school, my class had taken a chaperoned trip to Lake Placid. On the second day, I'd decided to try out some of the more difficult trails with a couple of my classmates. Initially, I had been able to keep in tow with them. However, when we reached the final trail, my snowboard flipped over on a raised jilt in the ground and I face-planted straight into a boulder. I left that trip with few fond memories, along with a broken nose.
After showering, I threw on a pair of black leggings and a plain white hoodie. Placing my hair into a high ponytail, I momentarily paused to grab my phone, then left my room. I could already smell the cinnamon pancakes and bacon sizzling on the stove.
Based on all the commotion heard from the kitchen, I safely assumed Marco had arrived. When I got there, I spotted his begrudgingly discernible presence covered in a Gucci snow suit. He even had on a pair of matching ear muffs. I chuckled to myself at the bemused sight, drawing his instant attention. He quickly whisked himself away from Coco and Isabella, who were responsible for producing the delicious aromas circulating around the kitchen.
"Hey love." He purred, planting two kisses on my cheeks.
"Hey. You do know its like seventy-five degrees in here, right?" I teased, taking a seat at one of the island chairs.
"Yes, Sasha. But I stay ready so that I never have to get ready. You should try it some time." He huffed.
"Yeah, ok. Do you need any help taking your things from the kitchen? We're sharing a room, so I don't mind showing you where it is."
"I'm actually headed in that direction to check on Sean. I don't mind showing him the way." Isabella chipped in, wiping her hands on her apron, then untying it from her waist.
"Well, thanks love." Marco grabbed his suitcase and duffle bag, following Isabella out of the kitchen.
"So, last night was pretty eventful, huh?" Coco said, with her back still turned to me.
"Yeah, I guess it was." I shrugged my shoulders, but deep down I knew what she was really getting at.
"I mean, that lap dance had everyone feeling some type of way. Kendall surely went to bed with a hard on."
"Oh my gosh, stop Coco!" I laughed at her unfiltered banter.
"But seriously, that dance seemed pretty...intense. Are you sure you two don't have anything going on?" She removed the pancakes from the pan, turning around to lean up against the counter.
"I already told you, no. Besides, isn't he still hooking up with Patricia?" I didn't know why I couldn't just summon up the courage to tell her the truth. I think it was because, deep down, I held this latent fear that she would judge me.
"Actually, he's not. According to her, Kendall called things off with her weeks ago. It's been a bruise to her ego, but I'm sure she'll move on." She turned back around to remove the bacon from a small frying pan and to take out some plates from a high cupboard.
If he had really ended his relationship with Patricia, then maybe he hadn't been playing me all along. If anything, I had been the one in the wrong. I was still stringing along two men, one of which I had been pettily ignoring.
I decided to help Coco set the table, placing large plates, napkins, and cutlery onto stitched mats on the dining surface. From across the hall, I noticed Ahmad, Jennifer, and Kendall returning from what seemed to be a zealous workout session.
What had particularly caught my interest was Kendall's attire. He was dressed in only a pair of low-hanging grey joggers and Nike trainers.
His body was dampened with sweat, which only helped to materialize his sleekly-defined abs. Since I had mainly seen him dressed in formal wear, I hadn't fully realized how fit his build truly was. Although he had a lean physique, it was clear that most of it was adorned with raw muscle and low-body fat. As they entered the kitchen, he used the towel wrapped around his neck to wipe the sweat collecting on his chest.
"Looks like breakfast's finally ready." Ahmad sung out, approaching Coco to give her ass a slap.
"Uh uh, you better stay away from me with all that sweat." She impressively dodged his arms, scooting further away from him.
"That's not what you said last night." He teased back, causing us all to erupt with laughter.
"You are too cruel, babe. Go shower." She responded, slightly embarrassed by his reveal. Despite all his teasing, he still turned on his heels to head for their room.
"As tempting as this food looks, I think I'm also going to hit the shower." Jennifer muttered, as she made her way to her room.
I shook my head, proceeding to take a piece of bacon from one of the bowls Coco had set on the table. When I brought it close to my mouth, a familiar hand took hold of my wrist and shifted its course. I watched Kendall leverage the piece of bacon to his lips, engulfing the large strip in one take. He didn't stop there but, rather, he licked the remaining grease off my fingers, staring at me heatedly while taking each finger into his mouth.
"Mmm." Was all he said before turning his back to me and walking away. Only then did I fully take in how much of his chest and posterior had been covered in ink comprised of words and symbols I couldn't quite recognize.
He was so unbelievably confusing.
Even now, I wasn't too sure whether he hated me, liked me, or simply wanted to fuck me. Pathetically, I was okay with any of the options, if it meant that I could harbor onto his attention for a little while longer. Now that him and Patricia were officially over, I wondered what that meant for us.
To my relief, Coco had been too preoccupied by prepping bowls with food and condiments to witness the brief encounter shared between Kendall and I. A few more minutes of setting the table went on before everyone returned. We ate the freshly-cooked food and made light conversation. When breakfast was finished, we left for the ski site.
Upon reaching the slope, we sectioned off into separate groups. Coco, Vivian, and Jennifer opted to sit by the outdoor fire pit for the duration of the excursion. Given, they had no clue how to ski, and weren't willing to make any attempt at trying. On the other hand, Isabella and I followed the group of men through the courses, wanting to make the most of the rare experience. I knew that it would take years before I ever willed myself to return to this place.
The path began with a variation of small twists and turns, but became increasingly difficult at every checkpoint, with some unexpected slants and bends meshed in between boundary lines. When the trail became too rigorous for my skill level, I was forced to pull out, preventing a repeat of the travesty that occurred the last time I had been in the snow.
By the time the men had completed the snow course a number of times, it had already reached mid-afternoon. When they returned to the fire pit, we decided to grab some food at one of the local diners. After the surplus amount of calories I'd likely burned, I figured a hamburger and fries wouldn't kill me.