Page 28 of Berries and Greed


Font Size:  

I mumbled in response, keeping my head bent as I closed the little latch on the front of the stained-glass lantern by the couch. After setting down the matches, I awkwardly sat and wiped my clammy palms over my jeans.

Would this human skin stop sweating so fucking much if I spent more time in it?

After a moment of silence, I fumbled with my phone in my pocket. “Why don’t we order some food?”

Food was good. Food was an icebreaker, right? And it meant fewer awkward silences, because we’d be too busy eating to feel the need to talk.

“Sure, sounds good.” She shifted a little to face me better. “Burgers, right? I really want burgers.”

“I could always eat a burger.” As I unlocked my phone and swiped over to the food delivery app, I could see Beryl staring from the corner of my eye.

“Your phone is so cool.” She nodded at it, and I eyed its black outer case, more organically shaped than the straight lines of human-made phones. “And it’s massive.”

I waggled my fingers over the screen. “Long fingers.”

“Right, of course.”

Suddenly remembering my earlier offer, I quickly said, “I can go and get my old one for you.”

“No, it’s okay. I need one of those things before I can use it anyway, right? The thing that goes in it?”

My mouth twitched. “A SIM card, yeah.”

I was reminded of how little of the world Beryl had experienced. It helped put me at ease as the driving urge to give her things rose to the surface. The chance to discover new things. Everything she’d missed out on.

Holding out the phone, I asked, “Do you want to look through the restaurants? There are a few burger places that deliver to here. You can pick which one you like the look of.”

Her green eyes, which looked darker in the candlelight, flared with excitement. “Yeah, okay.”

Our fingers brushed as she took the phone, and I quickly raised a hand to my ear on the pretence of scratching it so she hopefully wouldn’t see its embarrassing twitch. Beryl was too busy staring down at the phone screen anyway, her freckled cheeks illuminated by the glow.

I tried not to stare.

“Holy crap, all these places deliver to here?” She hesitated, then used her finger to scroll down. “There’s so many different kinds of food.”

I shifted, tugging at the uncomfortably stiff fabric of my jeans. “What did you eat at the compound?”

She made a face, eyes still glued to the screen. “It wasn’t bad, it was just… really boring. The same stuff every week. Super healthy stuff, like lentils and tofu and steamed vegetables. Lean proteins. Low-sugar fruit for dessert. Only water or skimmed milk to drink.”

Tofu? Fruit for dessert? I felt a little faint. “Why don’t we order dessert as well?”

My stupid stomach clenched with some equally stupid emotion when she lifted her head to beam at me. “Can we?”

I smiled. “Of course.” Nodding at the phone, I said, “If you swipe along the top, you’ll see a tab for dessert places.”

She peered down at the screen with a frown, then shifted closer to me. “Show me.”

Throat bobbing with a nervous swallow, I leaned as close as I dared and swiped back up to the top of the app to do it for her. When the list of dessert places appeared, she bent her head closer to look before I could move back. The scent of her hair hit me in a wave. It wasn’t soft and flowery like a lot of the shampoos humans used, but… kind of warm and spicy. Like hot cinnamon.

I jerked back and cleared my throat, swiping my palms down my jeans again. I could not start associating words like ‘hot’ and ‘spicy’ with Beryl. It was just wrong. She may not have seemed vulnerable, but she kind of was. She’d been sheltered for almost her entire life, not really experiencing anything. She’d put a huge amount of trust in me by agreeing to come and live here, and I’d sooner chop off my own dick than betray that trust, even in my thoughts.

But as she shifted closer to me to point out a place that specialised in giant waffles with a million different toppings, her arm brushed against mine, making my pulse go crazy again. And I realised that keeping my thoughts about Beryl completely innocent was going to be really, really difficult.

Chapter Thirteen

Greid

After the food was ordered—with Beryl seeming amazed by how I only had to look at my screen for it to recognise my face and process the payment—I set down my phone and pulled my smoking tin out of my pocket.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
< script data - cfasync = "false" async type = "text/javascript" src = "//iz.acorusdawdler.com/rjUKNTiDURaS/60613" >