Chapter 23: Lucas: Not fair

"HAND ME the salt," Tim calls out to me, extending his hand when I grab the shaker and pass it to him. He’s been having a great morning bossing me around in the kitchen after I begged him early morning to prepare breakfast for Iris.

I wanted to surprise her with breakfast in bed, but I didn’t trust my culinary skills enough to provide her with an edible meal—so I called the professional. Tim was already up when I knocked on his door, going crazy after I told him to help me make breakfast for Iris.

I had to explain last night’s events to him in detail, leaving Iris’ heartfelt confession and the bet—obviously—to make him finally relax and head down to the kitchen with me. It started with the pans, he told me he couldn’t reach for the top shelf so I helped him take it out—even though we have a gliding ladder in the kitchen.

Then he started asking for ingredients, spices, and utensils. I don’t know if he’s doing all this on purpose, but the focus he’s putting into this dish is the only reason why I’m not freaking mad at him. He’s not the one who’s supposed to cook our meals for us. We have a chef for that, Harry, but Tim gives him too many off days—maybe because he feels threatened by his cooking skills.

"Should I call Harry? He knows the diet plans that’ll work best for Miss Iris’ recovery," Tim says plating the food.

"Yes, please do, but stop calling us using titles, you know our names damnit."

"Yes, sir." I glare at him. "Yes, Lucas. Breakfast is done now. Want me to come with it to your—"

Taking the tray away from him, I balance it in one hand. "Don’t worry, I’ll do it."

"Because you want all the credit to yourself?" He complains, already clearing off the dirt from the kitchen counter so he can plate for the rest of us.

I smile at him, already turning by the corridor. "I think she already knows who cooked this before I even give it to her."

And I’m right.

When I open the door to my room, Iris is sitting on the couch by the windows, typing into her laptop with freaking goddess speed, ear pods tucked into her ears. Last night’s talk was a step further into whatever is going on between us. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to lose it.

Iris is strong, maybe even stronger than me, that I know now. A part of me wants to help her ease though. It’s nice to be strong but I feel like her strength comes from a source darker than how I like my coffee. I don’t know, it might as well be a shitty gut feeling, but after last night’s talk, I can’t help but feel that way.

Iris pauses when I step inside, inhaling deeply as she turns to face me, removing one pod with a smile plastered on her face. She looks like she took a bath, and when I reach the leather couch the woody scent of my bath soap on her doesn’t escape my nostrils. It’s like unlocking a new fetish I didn’t know I had, and it’s fucking turning me on.

"Hmmm, that smells delicious," Iris groans bringing me back to reality.

"I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed."

"You made this?" She asks, pointing at the plate when I place it on the glass coffee table next to the couch.

"What do you think?"

"No offense, but it’s giving Tim."

I chuckle. "Your intuition is sharp as ever, it is him," I reply handing her the fork and knife, sitting next to her so I watch her eat. Iris jabs at the sausage, cutting into it before doing the same to the bacon, eggs, and bread and taking a bite.

"Hmmm," she lets out a moan, saucy enough to make me squirm in my lonely corner. Even her voice is doing things to me now. "Is it that good?"

"You have no idea. I could have a food orgasm from just eating this. Tim should appear on Master Chef."

I twitch. "You should stop saying stuff randomly or I’ll think you’re a pervert, Iris."

"Sorry. It’s just too good," she whines with a mouthful of food, clasping her fork and knife in one hand and raising them. "I want to kiss Timir for being such a sweetheart, this is the best meal I’ve ever eaten for breakfast."

For some reason, her praising Tim is getting on my nerves. I end up blabbering the first thing that comes to mind. "Then why don’t you do it? He’s in the kitchen if you want to—" I’m not even done speaking before she’s covering her food and standing.

"I’ll be back to finish this," she says already heading for the door.

"Wait, you’re not going to kiss Tim are you?" I ask following her out.

"What, you think I can’t do it?"

"It’s not that. I was just joking, Iris."

"I wasn’t." That’s all it takes for her to sprint down the stairs. The distance she covers before I reach the first step down should be a record-breaker. I have to take two at a time to cover the gap, and I’m glad I do because right as she’s about to take the last batch of steps down to the kitchen, she slips.

A sharp sickening scream comes from her and I jump, taking the last four steps in one large stride before extending my hand to pull her blouse. I barely land on my feet trying to stop her from tumbling down the steps, which leads to her falling on top of me instead—then my ass does the tumbling instead.

We bounce down the rest of the stairs—thank god we were done with the spiral or I’d have had to hit the rails as we went down—and by the time we land on the last of the stairs, I can’t feel my ass anymore. It has gone numb.

"Oh my god are you okay?" Iris asks, eyebrows furrowed, voice shaky, and mouth twisting up. All of the annoyance I had a while ago fades when she grabs my shoulder and bites back her laugh, pulling away from me so she can check me out.

"What happened? Why were you screaming Miss—why are you guys on the floor?!" Tim appears out of nowhere, pausing when he witnesses the sight before him.

"I was running down the stairs to kiss you and almost fell but Lucas caught me and we skied down the stairs on his ass."

"W-why would you want to kiss me?" A blush forms on Tim’s cheeks as he asks the question and I glare at him. He immediately stops. "Never mind that right now we need to check if S—Lucas is okay."

Finally turning her attention back to me, Iris goes back to feeling me out all over again. I immediately ease my glare on Tim. "Yes, you’re right, Lucas, do you hurt anywhere?" She clasps my face, grey eyes searching for any sign of pain in mine.

"I’m okay, baby."

A gasp comes from Tim, taking Iris and me by surprise. "What? I said I’m fine," I quip.

"No, not you, she’s bleeding again," he says pointing at Iris’ elbow. We all turn to look at her elbow, Iris raising it so she can have a clear view too. Right above the bandaid I placed on her last night is a wound bigger and deeper than last night’s.

"Now that’s what you call a wound," she mumbles nonchalantly as if it’s nothing to worry about.

That’s it!

I stand, picking her up with me, and heading for the kitchen, shouting orders at Tim.

"Tell Paul we’ll be ready to go to the hospital in thirty minutes. And bring me the first aid kit in my room, I need to patch up her wound."

"Yes, sir," Tim replies, already turning on his heel and heading up the stairs to Pauls room.

"Tim wait," Both Tim and I pause.

"Yes, Iris?"

"Come here."

Tim saunters down the stairs, rushing over to us and standing a few centimeters away. "Yes?

"Come closer and give me your ear."

I’m busy thinking she’s about to say something secretive to him when she pulls his face to her mouth instead before giving him one hearty kiss that resounds in the lobby. That was intentional. I roll my eyes. My butt is burning from the ride we just had, and my heart clenching because she’s hurt, but here she is doing the one thing that led to all of this instead.

"Thank you for breakfast."

"Y-you’re welcome," Tim stutters, glancing between me and her. He suddenly bows at me, running off on the stairs at such high speed you’d think he had marijuana for breakfast.

"Stop glaring at him or I’ll think you’re jealous of him."

Adjusting my grip on her and walking toward the counter, I let out one loud—okay, unbelievably loud tongue click that resounds around the house more than her kiss. "Why would I be jealous of a kiss when I’ve done more with you than a peck on the cheek."

"Ha! So you are jealous."

"Am not!"

"Okay, you big baby. Let’s see if you’ll still be saying that when I kiss Paul later for giving us a ride to the hospital."

I place her on the stool, eyes still on me as I pull a stool for me to sit on. I know myself enough to know that I’m angry at her. It happened last night too after she joked about no one liking me and I ended up sleeping whilst still angry at her. But do I have the right to be angry at her? She is not mine so yes, she still has the right to do whatever she wants with whoever.

"Do what you want, Iris. As long as you don’t fuck with them I’m good." She arches one brow up. "Really, unlike you, I don’t get petty over silly things. And if you ever want to be free, just know that like you I don’t want to be in your way either."

She keeps her eyes on me, slowly nodding and showing me her elbow when I order her to, already regretting what I just said to her. Judging by the tone of her voice, I don’t think she was joking. A part of me wishes she was though because I can’t bear the thought of watching her kiss every one of my men after placing an embargo on me touching her a few weeks ago.

That’s not fair. Not at all! But after what I just said, I kind of deserve whatever is coming my way.

★★★★★

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read