Elijah makes a noise under his breath, handing me a plate and offering me the first slice.
“Does he not feed you?” he asks a little while later.
I slap a napkin over my mouth. Okay, so I demolished half a pizza in five seconds flat, but so what? Olga only feeds me salad. One time she caught me in the pantry eating chips, and I swear since then, she’s done everything to eradicate carbs from our house. And Max has a thing about dinner only consisting of boring grilled chicken and veggies.
“Sorry.”
He shakes his head, grinning, and then grabs a remote. A second later what I thought was a picture frame turns into a TV.
“Has that been here the whole time?” I ask midbite.
This time his mask slips when he asks, “Did Max even bother to give you a tour of the place?”
I shrug, shrinking back into the brown leather couch. When I first arrived I went from room to room, exploring the place but I was too afraid to mess with anything. There’s our bedroom and the kitchen. The library is off the living room,and then the empty bedrooms on the other side which never get any foot traffic. “Max is so particular, I don’t like to touch his stuff.”
And no TV in the living room totally fits his personality. I don’t think he even watches sports.
Elijah snorts. “Maxie grew up with two brothers and employs a full time maid. Make a fucking mess if you want. It’s your home now too.”
Gray eyes bore down on me when he says the last sentence. I focus on the TV knowing there’s over a month’s worth of pop culture I need to catch up on.
“I saw your cupcakes. You like baking?”
I’m slightly embarrassed somebody so well put together saw that disaster of a creation. “Sort of.”
“They look good.”
I give him a look.
“They look edible,” he amends.
I slowly finish eating my fifth slice of pizza. I’m going to be bloated but it’s worth it.
“Does Max leave you here alone often?” he asks.
Here we go. The real reason he’s here. To snoop. “Normally Olga’s here.” There’s no harm in giving the information away since it’s probably well-known.
“And where is she now?” he asks.
His shit-eating smirk implies he knows the answer. “Did you?” I ask.
The grin widens. He offers me another slice of pizza.
My defenses were down because of the food, but they’re back up in an instant. “Why are you here?”
“Because you need a friend,” he says, propping up his feet on the glass coffee table. “You know Sergei isn’t here on Thursday evenings.”
This is news to me. He always remains outside while I’m in the house. Of course, there’s got to be a shift change atsome point and hopefully, Max doesn’t make him work seven days a week.
“Where is he at?”
“No idea,” Elijah says and I don’t believe him for a second. If Elijah wanted the codes to some nukes I think he could achieve it. Worse, he might actually use such a weapon.
My legs are crossed, my plate in my lap. I yanked the bobby pins out of my head as soon as I could after lunch and I’m wearing pajamas. For once I’m comfortable, even while sitting next to this cunning man.
“Do you hate your brother?”
His surprise appears genuine. And so does the soft look in his eyes. “No.”
