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“You sure that’s what you’re hungry for?” Nora purrs in my ear, her palm sliding over my stomach to grab a handful of my cock. I close my eyes and swear. Any other night, I’d be down. Probably right here in the entryway. As gently as I can, I step out of her embrace. I’m not trying to piss off Nora. She’s up for anything at any time. I’m not sure who she’s here to see. It might be me, but with her, you never can tell. We’ve all had a taste of Nora.
With an exaggerated groan, I tap her chin. “As good as that sounds, I can’t right now. I’ll call you later, though,” I lie, watching a frown darken her face. She’s not happy. That’s too bad, though. Nora can be a little clingy, and I’m not about that. Plus, after the hickey shit the other night, I’m still pissed at her. I don’t want her to know that. Just in case I really do call her later. Flashing her my dimples, I turn and take the stairs two at a time, making sure to lock the door when I enter my room.
“You get lost?” Saffie clips.
With a laugh, I set the bags down on the coffee table and start removing containers. When everything is laid out, I sit on the floor, my legs stretched in front of me. Saffie settles across from me, her legs folded as she leans against the chair. I watch as she opens all the boxes, placing mine in front of me along with a fork and a pair of chopsticks. I reach for my container of Lo Mein and the sticks. “Have you tried this place since you’ve been here?”
She shakes her head. “Is it really called Mr. Miyagi’s?” Saffie asks, snapping her chopsticks apart, an incredulous smile tilting her lips.
“No, but the guy who owns it looks straight up like Mr. Miyagi. It’s what he told us to call him. He loves it. He used to enter look-alike contests. I’m not sure how the hell he found them.” I laugh. “Has pictures hanging all over the restaurant.”
“The menu is huge,” she says as she opens her container.
“He calls it Tri-Asian. They serve Thai, Chinese and Japanese. It’s the best and cheapest meal you’ll get on campus.”
“Good to know.” I watch as she dips her sticks into the white box and pulls out a saucy piece of pork. I’m mesmerized by the way she wraps her tongue around it and pulls it into her mouth. Fuck.
“I’m surprised you know how to use those.” I point at her with my own pair. Doing my best to make small talk and not allow my dick to get any harder.
“Chopsticks? Yeah. My dad was a foodie.”
“Ahhh, so that explains the name.”
She stops chewing for a minute and then nods. “Yeah. My sisters are Rosemary and Sage.”
“You’re shitting me, right?”
Saffie looks up at me, a mouthful of food. “Umm...no,” she answers.
“Rosemary, Sage, and Saffron.” I'm doing my best not to laugh.
“Yup.” She’s not amused.
“Was he a chef or something?”
“No. He was the fire chief.”
“Well, I guess it could have been worse, and you guys could have been named like Smokey, Ash, and Fire Starter.” Her face looks pinched as she tries to hold back her laughter. Finally, it bursts from her, the sound sexy and throaty. I decide I like making her laugh. A lot.
“He would have kicked your ass for making fun of our names. Everyone blew him shit for it,” she says, smiling around her chopsticks at the thought.
“Gotta be tough if you’re gonna name your daughters after herbs and spices, man.”
“He was.” Her tone drops an octave. The laughter turned melancholy.
“Did he die in a fire?” Saffie’s face tightens, her eyes fluttering as if she’s trying to fight back tears. Shit. It’s too late to take it back.
“No. Believe it or not, he died while he was on a fishing trip with his buddies.” She glances up at me before turning her attention back to her food. “They were out on the lake, heading back in because the weather was changing, when a young boy got caught in a rip current. My dad jumped in to save him.” She stirs the noodles around, picking at them, thoughtful. “He couldn’t save them both.”
I’m sorry I asked because I don’t like seeing her sad, but I’m glad she opened up and told me. I nudge her with my foot. “Your dad died a hero. Even if he did have shit taste in names.” I wink, hoping to lighten the mood.
Saffie laughs and pegs me with a pea pod, the sauce leaving a brown blob on my shirt. “Ooooh, my sisters are gonna be pissed at you if that stains,” I tease, reaching over my shoulder to pull my shirt off. I toss it toward the hamper, running a hand through my hair to try to tame it. Hockey season is in full swing, which means hockey hair is too. Your flow is as much a part of your uniform as your sweater.
I’m just about to ask her why she’s so quiet when I catch her eyeing up my bare chest. Knowing that if I say anything, she’ll crank up the ice queen thing she’s working all over again, I give her a second to look her fill. She can deny her attraction to me all she wants. I know what she sees. She may not like me, but she wants me. And that’s fine with me. I’m not looking for a girlfriend. I’m just trying to enjoy my last year before real life starts.
With a shake of her head, she returns to eating her food. “Tell your sisters you deserved it.”
“They’ll never believe that,” I tease, smiling around the mouthful of egg roll.
