Page 77 of Speak No Claim

I didn’t think anything of it. It was typical to hear when you left your house in Peru. It was usually accompanied by the cross being symbolized on your face, followed by a kiss on your cheek. If it were your direct family, especially your parents or grandparents, then it was more like a thousand kisses, not just one, displayed all over your face.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous on my walk over, mostly because I didn’t know how he’d react to me being there for him. I guess it depended on his mood. My guess was he was on some sort of drugs for the pain, so maybe I’d get the guy from Friday night. However, I was unsure which was worse, Jekyll or Hyde.

Swallowing hard, I used the back stairs to their estate like Caspian told me to, trying to go completely unnoticed. The last thing I wanted to do was answer any more questions or explain why I was there in the first place.

I watched Deja leave his room, slamming the door behind her.

“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “He must be peachy keen.”

Ignoring the anxiety exuding from my pores, I waited until she was gone to make my way to his bedroom. After I knocked, I heard Caspian’s voice, telling me to enter.

Gathering my resolve, I opened the door and came face-to-face with the man who’d taken a lashing for simply kissing me. My heart couldn’t have felt more broken than it did at that moment. I was used to seeing Onyx strong and determined. There, leaning against his headboard and sitting up in his bed, he looked anything but that.

He appeared exhausted despite being knocked out for almost two days.

Finding my voice, I greeted, “Hey.”

Caspian was smiling like a Chester cat, exiting the same way I walked in.

He shut the door behind him, and I resisted the urge to lean against it. Instead, I walked twenty steps to the side of his bed, counting to not lose my nerve.

Meeting his tired eyes, I declared, “I made you some soup.”

His gaze shifted to the container in my hands. I opened it to show him. It was nice and steamy.

“What’s in it?” he questioned.

“It’s aguadito. It’s Peruvian and has chicken, potatoes, a little rice, some cilantro, and healing spices.”

“Healing spices, huh?”

I nodded, not looking at him. Sitting down beside him, I placed the drinks on his nightstand, opening his first and then mine.

“It’s Inca Kola, Peruvian too. Some people say it tastes like pink bubble gum and others say it resembles a banana flavor.”

“What do you think it tastes like?”

I could tell by his tone he was flirting with me.

Still not meeting his intense stare, I shrugged. “Good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He went to grab it, hissing when he moved his arm in that direction.

“Here,” I said, holding it instead. “I’ll do it for you.”

Holding the straw to his mouth, he drank a sip.

“What do you think?” I asked when he was done, setting it back down on his nightstand.

“It tastes like candy.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.” He nodded to the soup in my lap. “Are you going to feed me next?”

I shrugged again. “If you want me to.”

Again, in a flirty tone, he teased, “What did I do to deserve this?”