The Alpha King Call Boy
Chapter 98

Fiona

I was relaxing in the tub with my eyes closed and head back on a fluffy bath pillow when I heard Alexander returning to our room.

He found me in the bathroom. I'd left the door ajar.

"Hey," he said, pushing it open slowly and taking a couple step inside.

"Hi." I rolled my head to the side to look at him. I'd brushed out my hair and tied it into a messy knot on the top of my head. The steaming hot pine and lavender scented bath was lulling me into a very sleepy state.

This week had been strange. This evening had been exhausting. And even though sometimes anger felt good to indulge in, it was a big emotion to let loose and it came with a come-down.

"That's done," Alexander said, leaning against the wall. He'd removed his jacket and shoes at the door, and now started to loosen his shirt sleeves and roll them up over his wrists. "Yeah?"

"I don't think she'll bother you anymore. And I'm sorry again, Fiona. I never expected her to act like this. The Iris I knew when we were young was a very different person."

"You knew her when you were young?" This seemed like new information.

He frowned. "Just in passing. I told you that she was my mother's maid and caregiver."

I was too tired to ask any more questions. I closed my eyes and resumed my position with my head straight back. It felt good to align my spine like this while soaking in the heat of the bath.

"Can we stop talking about her now?" Alexander asked quietly.

"Yes." I kept my eyes closed - it felt so good to let them rest - and heard him pacing over to the big clawfoot tub. He crouched down and knelt beside it, just inches from me.

I felt the warmth of his hand approaching before the gentle touch of his rough fingertips on my chest. It shocked me awake. I opened my eyes and found him looking at me very seriously, his eyes intent. His fingers were sliding delicately up and down my breasts, my neck, my throat.

"What do you want to do tonight?" he asked.

"I'm tired," I told him. As if it weren't apparent. "And hungry. Can we eat in here tonight? I don't want to walk anymore."

"Of course. I'll grab something from the kitchen. We can eat in bed if you want."

"I would like that very much."

"Any requests?"

"Hmm." Alexander was always intent on having me eat healthy food here. I was usually fine with doing that, getting my fried food and sugar fixes with Nina at the diner a couple times a week. But I just felt like being real with him right now.

I put a damp hand to Alexander's cheek, looked him in the eye and told him very seriously, "I need you to let me be bad tonight. I want a cheeseburger and fries. And a vanilla milkshake."

He was surprised. But smiled wide and said, "Okay."

He was up and heading out when I decided to add, "Maybe two cheeseburgers."

Now he burst out into full laughter. "Okay," he said again. "Anything else?"

"I think that should do it. Thank you."

"Onions on the burgers? Pickles?"

"Yes and yes."

What Alexander returned with was a veritable feast.

There were four bacon cheeseburgers - I figured two for each of us - with heaps of grilled onions and all the fixings, huge and held together with steak knives speared down the center like skewers. There were also several baskets of fries, some covered in garlic, others with melted cheese. And three gigantic milkshakes, vanilla, strawberry and chocolate, all topped with whipped cream and candied cherries. "This is next level," I told him, awe-struck.

"If you're going to be bad," he said with a mischievous smile, "might as well go all in."

It wound up being a different kind of night for us in a lot of ways. No more sexy stuff transpired. I changed into a big t-shirt and some silky little shorts after my bath and left my hair in the top knot. We enjoyed our junk food feast and for the first time ever laid in bed cuddling and watching a movie together.

I fell asleep before the movie ended, my head heavy against the crook of Alexander's shoulder, while he stroked the length of my forearm lightly. I didn't wake up till morning, replaceing myself tucked under the covers neatly with his arm draped over my side. He made me breakfast in the kitchen again. It was our weekend morning routine now and one I enjoyed greatly.

Each time we did this, he whipped up something different. Today started with a cup of chamomile-lavender tea and a chocolate chip scone. He had me enjoying this first course at the little table while he worked on the next - poached eggs and hollandaise on toast with steamed spinach and caramelized onions.

"So did you have a nice visit with my grandfather the other day?" I asked him casually while he worked.

He kept his eyes on the stove, bit his lower lip for a second and then said, "I did indeed. Did he tell you about that?"

"In fact he did."

Now Alexander met my eyes. "Oh, yeah? What did he say about it?"

"Not much. Just that you had been there and had breakfast with him."

He chuckled. "Well, I popped by for a few minutes and he happened to be having breakfast at the time."

"Why did you go to see him?"

Alexander gave me a puzzled look. Then the pot of water that the eggs were bathing in began to froth and overboil and he had to return his attention to his cooking for a moment.

"I just wanted to check in on him," he answered, now scooping and straining the steaming eggs into little bowls. "He's important to you, so he is important to me."

I was struck with a rather uncomfortable fluttering feeling in the center of my chest.

"That's very nice of you," I told him. "Thank you for doing that."

He smirked. "It was fun. He's a funny guy."

Finally breakfast was served. Alexander made up our artful plates and sat beside me and at last we got to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

For a few minutes.

Then his phone began to ring. It was on silent, but it was quiet in the kitchen save for the morning songs of the birds in the tall trees outside, and I could hear it vibrating in his pocket. "Sorry," he said, wiping his hands on a napkin before pulling the phone out and glancing at the screen.

He sighed. And silenced the call.

I raised an eyebrow at him when he looked back up.

"Yes. It was Iris. But I'm not going to answer right now."

He put the phone back in his pocket.

About two minutes later, though, it rang again.

"Just get it," I told him.

"I'm sorry. I will be right back." He got up and stepped out into the hallway, just a short distance, still within earshot.

I listened as they conversed briefly. Iris was saying she had a headache and wanted Alexander to come and "sit with her" while she felt unwell. He told her he was going to call the doctor.

He came strolling back to the table thirty seconds later after a little more back and forth.

"I'm sorry, Fiona. She's just-"

"I heard. Why is she calling you when she's not feeling well? Can you have her just call the doctor directly herself?"

"Yes. I have asked her to do that."

"And?"

"And, well, she's skittish about the doctors. I'm sorry, Fiona. I promise I'll reiterate our agreement about boundaries. But please understand, she's still settling in and I'm the only person here she has known for longer than a few days." "It's fine." I returned to my breakfast.

He paused, watching me. The air between us was feeling tense. "I'm going to go call the doctor," he said, standing up again. "So that they can go check on her. That's all. I'm not going over there. I'll be right back, okay?"

I nodded, told him again, "It's really fine." Then took my knife and sliced through the center of my egg. It steamed as the molten yolk erupted out.

He was only in the hall talking on the phone for another minute. But his breakfast was already cold by the time he got back to the table.