Beneath Him

by Kant, Komal

  “Uh.” I hesitated, not sure what to say. I hadn’t had much interaction with Chloe since the day I’d arrived, but what I’d see of her so far I didn’t like. “Is she always like that?”

  Emily chewed on her bottom lip as though she was trying to think of the best way to put her mother’s behavior into words. “She’s very particular about who she likes and who she doesn’t, especially when it comes to young women.”

  It was a wonder I’d been hired in the first place. Well, I was here now, so somehow I had to make it work. I didn’t know what it would take for her to warm to me, but I had a feeling it was going to be a close to impossible task.

  “And what about my brother?” Emily continued. “Do you have an opinion on him now?”

  “Your brother is, um, confusing.” Confusing wasn’t exactly my choice word to describe him, but once again I was trying to remain politically correct.

  Emily laughed deeply, her eyes crinkling at the edges. “That’s probably the nicest word I’ve ever heard a female use to describe him.”

  “I guess you’ve heard it all, huh?” I mused.

  Emily seemed too nice to bitch and whine about her brother, and I definitely wasn’t going to make her feel awkward by complaining about him.

  “Yeah, the room you’re in used to be my old room, so I literally have heard it all,” she said with large eyes.

  “Ugh, gross,” I said, making a face as I caught her drift. “Is that why you changed rooms?”

  She nodded, mirroring my expression. “No one wants to hear their brother, you know.”

  Her voice trailed off as her eyes darted over to Madeline who was mixing different colors together to create an ugly shade of brown.

  Emily continued in a lower tone, keeping her gaze trained on her cousin. “One time a random, drunk girl walked into my room in the middle of the night and tried to climb into my bed. I literally lost it at Nick. I suggest you lock your door because who knows the kind of girls he brings back.”

  “Hasn’t he ever had a girlfriend?” I wondered.

  Emily paused, biting on her bottom lip before she spoke. “He has, but not recently. He kind of doesn’t believe in all that.” She seemed uneasy for whatever reason.

  “All that?” I prompted, confused.

  “Yeah,” she nodded, shooting me a sheepish grin. “Trust me, I know it sounds stupid, but he doesn’t believe in love. That’s why he brings random girls home.”

  Nick didn’t believe in love? That was the strangest thing I’d ever heard. Who didn’t believe in love?

  “He does realize that love isn’t like magic or ghosts, right? It’s a real thing.” I was trying not to sound judgmental, but it was hard not to.

  That uneasiness crept onto Emily’s face again, and I could tell that there was more to it than what she was giving away.

  “I think he just has an aversion to it,” she finally said. “My brother is complicated like that. You’ll soon learn.”

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to learn.

  ***

  I was in the kitchen, but my mind was elsewhere.

  I was thinking about the time Erin and I had gone to our local fair and I’d been dating this guy, Daniel. Don’t get me wrong, he was a really nice guy, but something about him hadn’t felt right.

  I’d kind of always expected falling in love to be like the way it was described in books. First, the butterflies—lots of them. Then that feeling that no one else in the world could complete you as much as that one person did. And finally a gut wrenching feeling, like you were being torn in half, if you ever had to be apart.

  I’d never felt that way around Daniel. No butterflies, no feeling of being complete, and definitely nothing gut wrenching going on there. Like I said, nice guy, but not my guy.

  The kitchen door swung open with a bang, scaring the crap out of me.

  My eyes darted to the doorway where Nick now stood, staring at me in confusion.

  “Where you come from, is it normal to be in the kitchen at midnight kneading dough?” he asked, approaching me.

  I groaned inwardly, not sure why he was here. Yes, it had been nice of him to take me to the store, but that didn’t mean we were besties.

  My eyes wandered over him. This was the most casual I’d seen him dressed yet. You know, apart from being shirtless. He was wearing a simple tank top and gym shorts, and somehow he still managed to look just as sexy as he had in the suit.

  Trying not to gawk, I continued kneading the dough like his presence wasn’t bothering me. “I told you the other day, I like to cook.” I didn’t bother looking up. Maybe he’d go away if I seemed disinterested.

  “You know we have a cook on call 24 hours for that?” he asked, stopping just beside me.

  Sighing, I glanced up. So much for the not showing interest part. “Evan’s shift ended already. He went to bed. It’s rude to bother him. And, like I’ve told you, I like cooking.” I punched the dough a little too hard.

  Evan was the Ruggarsons’ chef who had worked for them for the last fifteen years. He was most likely in his sixties and needed his rest. There was no way I would ever wake him up for something.

  “It’s not rude,” Nick said with a shrug. “It’s his job.”

  Of course he had no regard for someone else’s well-being or sleep pattern. Why didn’t that surprise me?

  I continued with my task, wondering why he was still standing there watching me. His body so close beside mine was a little disconcerting. I was trying not to focus on it too much, but I was very self-conscious about his proximity to me.

  “Do you need something?” I finally asked when I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

  “I came down to get some champagne. I have a guest.” He told me this as though I was supposed to care.

  “By guest I assume you mean a one night stand.” I said it more like a statement than a question.

  “You could call it that.” Nick shrugged, like it didn’t bother him either way. “So, what are you making at this ungodly hour?”

  “Shepherd’s pie,” I said, surprised he even cared about something that didn’t revolve around him. “When I can’t sleep at night I cook.” I wasn’t sure why I had shared that tidbit with him.

  “Why?” He shot me a questioning look as he propped an elbow up on the counter and rested the side of his head on it, his eyes following my movements.

  “My mom taught me how to cook. Doing this reminds me of her and relaxes me.” Even though I’d shared a kernel from my life with him I doubted he cared.

  There was a moment of silence.

  “My mother’s never cooked anything for me,” he said, his tone devoid of any emotion as he watched me. “We’ve had a chef my whole life.”

  I stared at him in surprise, seeing him in a different light. As a kid, I’d loved spending time with my mom in the kitchen, watching as she concocted dishes, letting me taste test and give her my opinion.

  She would bake a cake every year for my birthday, and I looked forward to it more than I looked forward to getting presents because her cakes would always have a theme and she would somehow outdo herself each year.

  “Never?” I asked, as I started rolling out the dough. “Not even a cake on your birthday?”

  “Nah,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “She never had time for any of that stuff. She was always too busy throwing parties and going on vacations to cook for us.”

  His voice broke a little, and I could hear the hint of emotion creeping through the apathetic mask he had on. It was the most intimate thing he’d ever shared with me.

  In my head, I was starting to piece together the kind of childhood that Nick had had. A materialistic mother who probably bought him everything he wanted, but who wasn’t nurturing the way a mother should be. It didn’t sound very appealing to me.

  “That sounds shitty,” I said without thinking. “No wonder you’re like this.”

  Nick’s impression darkened, and I immediately wanted to kick
myself. That was a little callous of me.

  “I don’t care.” He straightened up and walked over to the fridge. “We had a world class chef and I had some of the best dishes made for me. Don’t go feeling sorry for me, baby.”

  With that, he grabbed a bottle of champagne from the fridge and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving me in absolute silence.

  Gah. Why did I feel so bad all of a sudden?

  Nick

  I’d had to tear myself away from her.

  She was getting too close. I’d said too much. I was letting her in too easily.

  Being around Sky was like the feeling you get when you returned home after a long time away. Something about her was familiar, homey, comforting.

  On some weird level, she actually got me. She listened to what I was saying. She took things in with those dark eyes of hers. Through those eyes, I saw her mind working as she tried to figure me out and piece together fragments of a life she couldn’t even begin to understand.

  The fact that I wanted to spend more time with her and soak in the aura that radiated from her was a concern to me. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  It was a feeling I couldn’t control. It was a feeling that terrified me.

  Sky

  My Shepherd’s pie smelled delicious when I pulled it out of the oven.

  Instead of eating it, I left it cooling on the counter with a note for Evan letting him know to put it in the fridge when he woke up.

  Finally feeling the exhaustion of the day, I headed upstairs as my mind circulated with the conversation I’d shared with Nick. I felt like he’d really opened himself up to me tonight, but I was no closer to deciphering him. He was a complicated algorithm, while I was an old school detective with a magnifying glass. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to be able to solve him.

  As I approached my door, I could hear sounds drifting down the corridor from Nick’s room. But this time it wasn’t music.

  My stomach lurched as I realized the sounds I was hearing were the screams of a woman.

  Fear kicked through me like an engine coming to life, and I sprinted to his room, about to break the door down or scream for help, or attempt to do something heroic.

  Before I could put my plan into motion, I heard something else.

  “Oh, God, yes! Oh, fuck!”

  My body shot up to a hundred degrees.

  Oh, crap. Those weren’t screams of help—they were screams of, uh, pleasure. Nick and his “guest” were getting it on. Thank God I hadn’t barged in.

  The woman screamed again, and I flattened myself against the wall, feeling mortified that I was still standing out here listening in on them.

  If someone walked by right now, I would look like a serious pervert. They’d think I was a voyeur or something weird like that who liked to listen in on people having sex. It wasn’t exactly easy not to listen in though. She was so freaking loud.

  For a second, my curiosity piqued. I had never made sounds like that during sex. I wondered what Nick was doing to her—I mean, apart from the obvious—that was making her scream like that.

  A shiver raced down my spine as I wondered what it would be like to be in her position. Nick had obviously had sex with a lot of women. Judging from the woman’s screams of pleasure, he knew what he was doing.

  My sexual escapades were limited to a guy who wasn’t well-endowed, and another guy who had sweat and grunted a lot. Okay, so they were the same guy.

  Finally, forcing myself to move, I tiptoe ran—that was when you ran like a crazy person who was trying not to get caught listening in on someone having sex—back to my room.

  As I shut the door behind me, the screams could still be heard faintly from next door.

  Time for me to invest in earplugs.

  Chapter Six

  Sky

  The next morning, when I walked into the dining room, Nick was already sitting at the table looking at something on his phone.

  He glanced up as I walked in and without any acknowledgment, returned his attention back to the screen.

  Jerk.

  Seriously, how could he get drunk and stay up late having sex, yet be perfectly fine the next day? It defied all logic and reasoning. I would need five cups of coffee before I could even muster up enough energy to brush my teeth, let alone chase after a four-year-old.

  To be fair, Madeline was an absolute gem of a child. She gave me no trouble whatsoever.

  “Morning, Sky,” Emily greeted me warmly, glancing up from her plateful of eggs and bacon.

  “Morning,” I said with a pathetic wave.

  I really wasn’t feeling it today. I needed a shirt that said ‘Don’t even look at me until I’ve had my morning caffeine hit’.

  Heading over to the breakfast table, I piled a plate with food and poured myself a cup of coffee before joining the siblings at the table.

  “You look like you had a bad night’s sleep,” Emily said with a frown as she studied me.

  Yeah, because ungodly sounds had been coming from your darling brother’s room as he ravished a random woman all night long.

  That’s what I really wanted to say, but I didn’t.

  “I thought I heard screaming,” I said, biting into a piece of toast as I kept my eyes trained on Nick, “but it was only a bad dream. A nightmare, really.”

  Nick raised his eyes, and I quickly turned my attention back to Emily who was studying me with sympathy.

  “Oh, that sucks. You should take a nap with Madeline this afternoon.” She finished her glass of orange juice and stood up.

  “You’re leaving?” I asked, almost choking on my toast. I felt a lot tougher with Emily around.

  “I have an early class to get to, but we’ll catch up soon.”

  “Sounds good,” I returned as she walked over to Nick.

  Actually, it sounded terrible. I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted her to stay so she could at as the protective barrier between Nick and me.

  “Love you, bro,” she said, lowering her head to kiss him on the cheek.

  Nick gave his sister a rare smile that wasn’t smug or cocky—it was just filled with affection. “Love you, too. Go learn something, you vagrant.”

  Emily laughed and gave me a wave before leaving me alone with the devil. Yay. Dream come true. I was mentally doing jazz hands. Not.

  I put all of my focus into eating my toast and acting like Nick wasn’t there. It wasn’t like I had anything to say to him. I’d tried to be nice to him last night, but it had backfired on me. And after hearing him having sex, I was kind of at a loss for words.

  Nick’s chair scraped against the floor, and out of the corner of my eye I watched as he stood up and buttoned his jacket.

  Thank goodness he was leaving. I could only stand this awkwardness for so long.

  But instead of making his way out of the dining room, he walked around the table towards me. That was one move I hadn’t predicted.

  He stopped beside me and leaned down, his sapphire eyes finding mine. “Did you have fun spying on me last night, Sky?” His breath tickled the side of my neck, and I shivered.

  “Um, uh,” I spluttered, attempting to form words and failing. Now I felt mortified for being caught out. I should’ve just kept my big mouth shut. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You heard me banging out that girl last night,” he said casually, with no hint of shame. “Did you like listening in? Did it turn you on knowing what I can do to a woman?”

  Every part of me froze. I meant it. I felt like I couldn’t breathe or think or speak. What was happening to me right now? I felt like I had the flu. My palms were sweaty, my temperature was rising, and I was feeling shaky. I was like that Elvis song.

  “No,” I said, finding my voice, “it didn’t.”

  Wow. I sounded so lame and unconvincing. I was definitely not destined to be a compulsive liar or an actress. Unless I became a D-grade actress who couldn’t actually act and was only in movies because she h
ad big boobs.

  Because I had to admit, despite being mortified, I had never made sounds like that in bed. I’d had to fake it a lot in my last relationship because he just hadn’t been very good at sex.

  “I think you’re lying.” His words elicited a shiver in response. “I think you wish you could be fucked like that.”

  Oh my. Fucked. The way he said that word made my body react in a burst of heat and tingles.

  I turned to him in fake indignation, desperately hoping to conceal the excitement that was coursing through my veins. I knew I should be pissed by his words, or at the very least offended. “I’ve had sex plenty of times!” I argued, wondering why I was letting him get to me so much.

  “Did I say anything about sex, Sky?” The way he said my name made my legs shake. “I’m talking about being fucked. I’m talking about being fucked good and hard.”

  Fucked. There was that word again.

  When he said it, there was a wild light in his eyes like he was talking about tearing someone apart. In a way, I guess that’s what he was doing.

  “I’m not interested in being fucked by anyone, especially you.” My voice sounded weak. He was getting to me, damn it.

  “Don’t worry,” Nick said with a scowl, stepping away from me, “you’re not exactly my type.”

  He seemed annoyed now; maybe because I was turning him down constantly.

  I raised a brow and finally mustered the strength to push my chair back and stand up. “Oh, yeah, and what’s your type? Easy?”

  I knew my comment had rubbed him the wrong way because his nostrils flared just the slightest. I guess smooth talking Nick Ruggarson could dish it out but he couldn’t take it. Well, I was definitely going to use that against him.

  “You know nothing about me. Don’t act like you have me all figured out, Sky.”

  He shot me a dirty look and did what he always did when things got too difficult for him—he left.

  Nick

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Lisa. Again.

  Lisa Manning was one of my oldest friends, all the way back from elementary school. She was one of the few people who knew the real me and who I felt I could actually be myself around.