TASTE ( Stark and Stone #1)

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13: Talks & Knives


The sun was up and shining the next day and there was no sign of Alastair. After last night, my emotions were dangling between anger and concern because despite telling myself a hundred times that I’m not going to talk to him or even look at him, I texted him at night. It was too late for realization but I regretted it immediately.

I just wanted to know where he was but I got no reply back which further aggravated me. I’m not some clingy girl who needs to know where he is all the time but he should not have left me hanging on seen.

Since today was Sunday, I had no school. I woke up late and was having a large breakfast because I’m hangry. I even covered up for Alastair as if he was a teenager like a good sister that I am even when no one asked. I told his dad that he was feeling under the weather and that he wants no one to disturb him. Surprisingly, he believed me and didn’t even bother to check on his fake-sick son.

My mom and Grayson went out after 11 o’clock to some art gallery that one of their friends has opened recently. I sweetly smiled at my mom when she told me to be on my best behaviour and to not disturb poor sick Alastair.

As soon as they were out of the house I ran up to his room and removed the blankets wrapped around the pillows in frustration. I know I went over and beyond for him, even making a Fake-Alastair with pillows to be on the safe side but it doesn’t matter. If his dad had come up and checked up on him he would at least find a body, though a non-responding one at that.

I came back downstairs to finish the pasta that my mom makes specifically the only thing she can make when she feels the sudden urge to cook. Whenever she’s in a cooking mood she always cooks pasta, like every damn time. I still like it even after eating it almost every day after my parent’s divorce.

Something roared outside the house, something similar to the sound that comes from motorbikes which had me on high alert. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter and quietly padded across the hall on my toes. I removed the blinds enough to look at what is happening outside. No stranger is coming to my house without going down in the battle of blood.

My jaw dropped when I saw that it was Alastair. On a bike. In new clothes. I was fuming.

He removed his helmet and set it on the handle of the bike. He ran his hand over his hair and his cheeks seem to be sucked inside, the reaction when we are whistling. Someone is in a good mood. Must be a hell of a night I guess. I switched off all the lights and covered the blinds and sat down on the sofa with the knife in my hands.

The door creaked open. The sound that those horror movies love to put in every time just to scare you for no reason. Like, of course, the house door should be creaked open, it cannot be greased open, it needs to make a sound to give you a warning that the ghost is coming for you, and if you know better you will run for your life.

What is wrong with me? Why am I even thinking about this right now?

Focus Adelyn. Focus.

“Adelyn! Is that you?”
He was standing against the door with his eyes locked with mine which was slightly flickering to the knife in my hand.

“Oh no! I’m Hannah Montana. Don’t you remember me? You sucked my face, last night babe.”
He dared to look embarrassed and since he was a smart guy he knew I was angry with him. As he stepped closer I transferred the knife from one hand to another which made him stop midway. I walked over to him and he took a step back not really trusting me.

“Addy, your eyes are blinking really fast and the way you are smiling at me, I’m not getting a good feeling from this. I think you should drop that silver glinting object and listen to me without looking like a serial killer. I know we have so much to talk about. Let’s do that. I saw dad leave with your mom on my way so we have the house to ourselves. We can sort everything out before they come back. Are you with me on this?”
Okay so maybe I’m not the only one who has gone insane due to sexual starvation. Alastair was acting like he was Christian Grey and I was that psycho submissive ex, Leila, ready to shoot Anastasia’s head off or something.

“Quit playing the therapist idiot. I’m not on a murder spree. Yet. Now tell me where you were last night. Don’t leave a single detail.”
I walked over to the kitchen counter and placed the knife back where it belonged between the spoons or whatever. I took out a fresh bowl and served pasta for the Greek god to nibble on while he tells me all about his late-night adventure.

Alastair eyes me warily and I rolled my eyes at him. He shrugged out of his jacket and sat beside me and turned his chair towards me so we can have an uninterrupted chat. I passed the bowl to him and he tastes the pasta before dropping the fork back into it.

“Okay. Well, last night was something else. I know I shouldn’t have run off like that. We will come back to that later. After I left the house I went over to my friend’s house and he dragged me to this lame party. I don’t remember much but I drank a lot like I only woke up today because my head was hurting like a bitch. Then after I was completely wasted I somehow found myself in the middle of a garden and then I saw Lily.”

As soon as he said the girl’s name I had my hand over the knife again. Alastair chuckled but then dropped his smile as soon as he saw how serious I was. He calmly pushed the knife out of hands and held them in his, not because he was trying to be romantic but he doesn’t trust me with the knife I just held to murder him.

“Who the fuck is Lily?”
I think it was a fair enough question asked rather testily. I like to know if my guy spent his entire unconscious night with a girl I know nothing about.

My guy. I like the sound of that.

“Why are you smiling? Anyway, so she and I used to go out when we were in high school. We parted ways when we had to go to different universities. I was surprised to see her too and I think I told her about what happened between us too at some point. Frankly, I don’t remember much. All I know is that I was talking to her a lot and then I vomited a lot and she and my friend Jake brought me back to his house. I threw away my clothes and slept in Jake’s shirt and shorts. And he let me borrow his clothes this morning. And here I am right in front of you.”
He smiled like a movie star and for a second I was star struck. I want to question more about this Lily because something about her sounds familiar. But we have more important stuff to discuss right now.

“Now, let’s take this to your bedroom because you are very sick and feeling under the weather.”

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