Chapter 22

The One With Plenty of Flirting

NATE

There’s a moan when Arielle and myself step into her house and I hear a man’s voice coming from somewhere inside the house. “You’re so hot,” he says lowly and Arielle and I look at one another.

I’m about to ask her what the fuck is going on, but she shushes me and begins to creep around the corner that leads towards her kitchen. If I remember correctly, I’ve only been in her house once and I only really hung out on her balcony. That was back when I found out Sara had been playing me and so I came here to warn her not to participate in the race that Sanders had caught on to.

I watch Arielle in front of me, cute little ass hidden in short shorts and my t-shirt. I’m assuming she had an extra pair of shorts hidden in her car because she wasn’t exactly wearing pants when she left my place.

When the two of us round the corner, we spot a man in the kitchen holding some sort of microwaved food in his hands. I slightly recognize him, but I can’t recall his name. I do know that he’s Arielle’s best friend and roommate, however.

“Chase! What the fuck,” Arielle scolds. “I thought you were fucking someone in my kitchen.”

Chase, right.

“Excuse me, but this is our kitchen.” He places the plate down on the countertop and looks towards a far cabinet in the corner. “You might not wanna’ prep there.”

Arielle rolls her eyes, and I think hey, sex on the island countertop might not be all that bad.

“You remember Nate?” She questions Chase as he stuffs his face with whatever it is he’s cooked. It doesn’t exactly smell very enticing.

“Yeah,” he nods his head. “What’s up, man?”

“The fuck are you eating?” I joke, “Need to open a fuckin’ window in here.”

Arielle laughs, brushing past him to grab two beers from her fridge. She twists the lids off and approaches me, handing me one that I take a swig from.

Chase shrugs. “Found it in the freezer.”

“Chase, we need the kitchen. Get out,” Arielle demands, shooing him out of the space.

“If you think I’m gonna’ leave so you can fuck him in our kitchen, you’ve lost your damn mind.” Chase says as he grabs his plate and takes the few steps over to their living room.

“Hey, you being here isn’t gonna’ stop me from getting laid.”

I chuckle at Arielle’s admission, adding, “I reckon we don’t mind an audience.”

I approach Arielle from where she stands on the opposite side of the island, setting my beer down on the marble top and grabbing her hips, pressing the front of my pelvis into the back of hers.

Glancing around the room, I notice a bouquet of flowers that have long ago died and I brush her hair to the side, pressing my lips against her neck. I spot the tiniest of cards stashed in between the deceased plants and ignore it for the moment, wondering who gave her the flowers.

Arielle turns around in my arms, and I rest my hands on her ass as she grabs hold of my leather jacket and rifles through my inside pocket. Ultimately, she grabs hold of my little tin and puts it on the counter before us.

She wastes no time in pulling out ingredients as I saunter nonchalantly over to the dining table, making it appear as if I’m only doing it as a place to hang my jacket. I shrug the material off, hooking it over the back of one of the chairs.

I’m able to read Hayes written at the bottom of the card, and I turn to see Arielle pulling out a pan from one of the drawers. Chase is busy stuffing his face while watching some comedic television show.

She tucks her hair behind her ear, reading over the recipe. “You helping?” She inquires when she notices that I’m staring at her. She pulls out a coffee grinder and places some of my weed into it, ensuring that it becomes a fine powder.

“Sure, babe. Tell me what you want me to do,” I offer, taking another sip of my beer.

“Get the saucepan with oil ready, please.”

I do as she asks, turning the stovetop on low and pouring oil into the pan she provided as I wait for her to come over with the ground weed. Arielle tosses the drug into the oil and the two of us turn to look at Chase as he speaks up.

“Arielle, when are you gonna’ throw that shit out?” He questions as he points over at the flowers. I don’t miss it when he glances over at me to see if he’s gotten a reaction at the mention of the bouquet. I remain stoic, simply wetting my lips and having some more alcohol.

Arielle laughs mockingly at Chase, walking over to the gift. She carries the vase over to the trash can and tosses the dead flowers into the garbage along with the card, keeping the vase to wash. “You fuckin’ live here, too, Chase.”