The awkwardness is undeniable. The world takes its time spinning, and everything seems to be in slow motion.
I clear my throat. I want to ask him why he wanted me to have dinner with him. He doesn’t socialize with other people, but he can actually eat with someone comfortably. This might be the first time he shares tables with somebody.
“Stop staring,” he says softly.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I look away quickly. “But if you don’t mind me asking—”
“I was wondering when your next barrage of questions was coming.” He continues to eat, apparently with pleasure.
I can’t help but notice how gorgeous he is, even if it’s only half of his face. It’s just too bad he’s wearing a mask.
I search for any mark or scar that might have slipped out a little, but I see nothing. Maybe he has hidden it well. Or perhaps not. I’m not even sure if he really has a scar there.
“I told you to stop staring.” He meets my gaze this time, jolting me back to reality.
“I was wondering why you asked me to eat with you,” I say swiftly, then close my eyes.
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s just... You don’t go outside your room and never meet with other people, but you can comfortably eat with someone.”
He laughs as if I just said something hilarious. “I’m not sure if it’s funny or insulting that you’re basically describing the life of a beast. To satisfy your curiosity, I eat with Oliver every single night, Miss Hart.”
“Of course. How thoughtless of me.” I give a small laugh. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Lucien—I mean, Master. It’s really hard to call you Master.”
“You can call me whatever you like.”
I’m slightly stunned at his reaction and how surprisingly calm he is about it. “Thank you, but I’d rather call you that. Ms. Lennie might hear me calling you whatever I like.“The dinner was great.” He puts down his empty plate and wipes his lips with a napkin. “Thank you, Miss Hart.”
“You’re welcome. So...” I clear my throat. “If you need anything, you can just call me.” I’m done with mine as well, so I finally stand and start clearing the table.
“You’re leaving?” he asked, sounding confused.
“Yes, thank you for letting me share the meal with you, and I’m sorry again about your mom and sister.”
He nods and springs up as well, walking to the couch.
Lying on my back that night, I stare at the ceiling of my room, feeling delighted. Deep inside, I know and feel that he has a good and generous heart, but he makes me think about him too much.
I roll to the side, resting my head on my arm. I still have too many unanswered questions about him. What is he hiding beneath the mask? Are there scars? Did someone hurt him? How did his family die?
I exhale in frustration. It’s not that I even care. I’ve known him for a very short time. I’ve barely talked to him, but he is kind to me. I finally doze off, picturing him taking his mask off as the lights dim.
***
“Alayna, I didn’t expect you to be this early.”
Oliver waltzes into my station in his running outfit the next morning. A white towel is hanging on his shoulder, and one bud of his earphones is still in his ear. Judging by his outfit, he’s probably going for a run.
“Good morning, Oliver. Going for a jog?”
“Yes, my morning routine.” He glances at the small bowl I’m holding. “Oh, you’re making crêpes.”
“Yep, and I made a syrup. My own recipe,” I brag, smiling. “Strawberry this time.” I lift the spoon and circle my tongue around it as I savor the sweet taste of honey and strawberry. My favorite flavor. “I think this is good.”
I put three layers of crêpes on a plate, then pour the strawberry syrup on top. Oliver is watching me as I place bacon and eggs on another plate.
“Let me help you.” Oliver transfers the plates to the trolley, opens the fridge, and takes a pitcher of water and lemon. He slices the lemon into thin strips and drops the slices in the water. “And since you’re officially his private chef, and this is not listed on the schedule, give him this every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. He works out after breakfast, and today is Friday.”
“Work out?” I frown, confused. “Oh, of course. He has his gym in this house. I’m so silly.”
“Yes.” He smiles. “All done! Off you go.”
“Thank you.”
“Alayna, I’ve noticed you haven’t been outside since you came here.”
I look up at him with a frown. “Oh, yeah. I haven’t, right?”
“You know you should go out sometime and see the city. I thought you said you’ve never been to New York before.”
“I actually haven’t thought of going out. But you’re right, I’ve always wanted to see the city. Your cousin actually gave me a gift card to one of the spas nearby. I might use it.”
Oliver’s forehead wrinkles. “He gave you a pass to the spa?”
“I was a little surprised too, but who am I to refuse?”
“What did I tell you? He’s a good man.”
I shrug. “I think so now.”
“Maybe I’ll drop you off at the spa,” Oliver offers. “I’m going to the city tomorrow anyway. But only if you’d like.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course.” He beams.
“Yeah, sure. I’d love to.”
“Oh, take that to him now.” His hand motions toward the food trolley. “He’s probably done with his exercise.”
“Right. Thanks for the tips, as always.”
He chuckles softly. “Don’t mention it.”
I push the trolley outside and carefully walk through the hallways. It is very early, and the silence in the house is deafening.
Again, I knock on Brandon’s door three times and don’t hear an answer, so I step inside. The dim light in the room adds to my creepy feeling, tempting me to light a fire and settle on the couch by the fireplace with a cup of coffee. I even imagine myself sitting with him. The thought alone makes me giddy.
I find the remote control for the air-conditioner on the table, and I lower the temperature so the food won’t cool down. Then I set his breakfast on the table by the window.
“Alayna?”
My head shoots up, jolting a little when I hear my name said in his deep voice. I love it when he says my name. I finally see him before another door.
His top half is bare, and his chest is glistening with beads of sweat. His face is still covered by the mask, and he is wearing gray sweatpants that follow the shape of his thighs. A white towel hangs on his shoulder. My throat dries up at the sight of him. His muscles are ripped, hard, and I instantly ache to run my fingers over his chiseled abs. He is simply breathtaking.
I try to speak nonchalantly. “I brought you your breakfast.”
He is panting heavily, and his gray eyes are looking directly into mine. “Mm, thank you.” He paces toward me and checks the food. “You can leave now, Miss Hart.”
“If I may, could I take a short break tomorrow? It’s Saturday.”
“It’s fine. I won’t call you on your rest day.”
Of course, no reasonableHis brows furrow. “Oliver offered?”
“Yes, since he said he’s going to the city tomorrow anyway.” I feel like I have to explain. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. “Is this all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
I grin in victory. “Thank you!” I clasp my hands together. “Oh, you should eat your breakfast while it’s still hot. I’m sorry I was late. Oliver told me that you work out after breakfast.”
“I don’t work out after breakfast. I work out beforeAnd I still can’t stop grinning, too excited for tomorrow. “Maybe he just misspoke.”
I watch him settle on the seat and pick up the utensils, but he still doesn’t touch the food. “You may leave, Alayna. You can get the dishes later,” he says in a glacial tone.
Quietly, I leave his room again. But something inside me doesn’t want to.