Whisper Destiny

Chapter 46

~ Catherine ~

Natasha stopped her movement, her eyes wide and face flushed crimson, clearly taken aback by Chase's unfiltered remarks. But I do agreed with him. She's look glowing and radiant. Knowing I was the reason for her radiance, filled me with a warm, contented feeling.

"Shut up, Chase! Let's go," Natasha snapped, her voice sharper than earlier. She avoided looking in my direction, her embarrassment and frustration palpable. Yet, even in her flustered state, she was impossibly endearing. The way her eyes darted nervously, the faint tremor in her voice—each detail only made my affection for her grow stronger.

"Please, eat something before you go. I'll whip up something quick for both of you," I urged, my voice gentle but carrying a quiet insistence.

"No thanks, let's go, Chase," Natasha replied quickly, her tone curt and dismissive.

"Let me pack something for you, then," I insisted, not wanting to let her leave without a proper breakfast.

Before Natasha could refuse, Chase chimed in, "Come on, Natty. We're not in a rush. At least let me enjoy my coffee. Cate makes it special for me. Plus, don't forget you ditched me for an hour. This is the very least you could do for me."

Natasha's gaze softened slightly, and she glanced back at me, her expression unreadable. There was a fleeting moment where our eyes met, and something unspoken passed between us—a mix of feelings including unresolved tension that had been simmering beneath the surface.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with indecision before she finally relented and took a seat at the kitchen table. A small wave of relief washed over me, and I moved swiftly, my hands deftly preparing breakfast for them. The familiar routine brought a small, quiet satisfaction.

As I prepare the meal, the soft murmur of Natasha and Chase's conversation reached my ears. Their voices were low, almost conspiratorial.

"Who is it? You better spill everything, don't spare any details," Chase pushed.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Chase, none of your business." Natasha retorted. I couldn't help but smile at their banter, a small, affectionate curl of my lips that I tried to hide as I focused on the task at hand.

From where I stood at the stove, I could feel the weight of a gaze resting on me. It was a subtle yet unmistakable sensation, a tingling awareness that sent a shiver down my spine. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was—Natasha's eyes had a way of making my skin prickle with a strange, electric warmth. She was the only person who could make my body react so acutely, so differently, just by looking at me. I felt a flush of self-consciousness creep up my neck, a delicate pink that I hoped wasn't too obvious.

As I brought the steaming cup of coffee and two plates of simple breakfast to the table, I dared a glance at Natasha. Her eyes were still fixed on me, unabashedly tracing my every move. There was no attempt to conceal her scrutiny, and it was evident she was fully aware that I had noticed. Her confident, almost brazen nature of her gaze only deepened my attraction towards her, sending a warm, fluttering sensation through my chest.

When I set the plate in front of her, our fingers brushed lightly. The brief contact sent a jolt of electricity up my arm, so intense that I instinctively pulled my hand back. Natasha's breath hitched slightly, a barely perceptible intake that betrayed a crack in her composed exterior. The moment was fleeting but charged, filled with an unspoken moment so that hung heavily in the air. I found myself fighting the urge to pin her against the kitchen counter and kiss her intensely.

Before I could dwell too long on the fantasy, Chase's voice broke through the silence, blissfully unaware of our silent exchange. "This omelette is so good, Cate. Where did you learn to cook?" he asked, his tone cheerful and appreciative as he dug into his meal.

"I studied abroad and lived alone for quite some time. And, I learned how to cook from my mother," I shared, my voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. A pang of ache settled in my chest at the mention of my mother, a bittersweet feeling that I tried to push aside. I didn't want my emotions to surface, especially not in front of Natasha. The last thing I wanted was to show any vulnerability, so I decided to excuse myself and continue with my plans for the day.

"Enjoy your breakfast. I'll leave you both to it and have fun today," I said, forcing a light and casual tone. Natasha's eyes flicked to me briefly, and a flash of something unreadable crossed her face before she looked away.

As I began to retreat, Natasha's voice halted me in my tracks. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, her tone unbothered but laced with curiosity.

This was unusual. Natasha rarely inquired about my whereabouts, a shift that set off alarm bells in my mind. Her accusation from yesterday—that I was having an affair—echoed in my thoughts, casting a shadow over our conversation. I met her gaze, trying to gauge her mood, searching for any hint of the suspicion she might still harbor.

"Yes, I will head to the office quickly to pick up my camera. I need it for my work today," I answered honestly, keeping my tone even and watching her expression closely. Her eyes held a flicker of something unspoken, an unasked question that hung between us.

"Alone?" she asked, the single word heavy with unspoken implications. There was an edge to her voice, a subtle challenge that hinted at the lingering distrust.

"Yes, unless you want to tag along," I offered, even though I knew she was unlikely to accept.

She snorted softly. "In your dreams," she muttered, lifting her coffee cup to her lips.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Chase watching our interaction, a look of stunned amusement on his face. He finally broke the silence with a teasing comment, "You two are actually matching like a couple today. I feel like I'm third-wheeling. Should I leave you both alone?"

He was right; we did match, both wearing jeans and plain shirts—mine white, hers black. It was an unintentional coordination, yet the contrast between our outfits felt like a metaphor for the balance we often found in each other, even amidst our differences.

Natasha, however, seemed less amused. She grunted and turned to Chase with a mock-serious expression. "Are you done with your breakfast, Mr. Rowe? If yes, let's go." Her voice was brisk, cutting through the lightness of Chase's tease.

"Thank you for the coffee and breakfast, Cate. It was awesome. Invite me again in the future," Chase said, a grin spreading across his face.

"You're welcome anytime in this house, Chase," I replied, smiling at his enthusiasm.

Chase's grin widened at my response. "Oh, and I'll send my portfolio and profile to your office on Monday. I'm really excited and looking forward to it," he added, a note of anticipation in his voice.

Natasha turned to him with a curious expression. "What portfolio?" she queried, her tone sharp with interest.

"I'll tell you in the car. Now, let's go," Chase replied, sidestepping the question for the moment.

As they made their way out of the kitchen, I headed to my room to grab my backpack. Just as I rounded the corner, I collided with Natasha. The impact was sudden, and my hands instinctively reached out to steady her. For a moment, we stood close, the unexpected proximity sending a jolt through me. The warmth of her body, the subtle scent of her perfume, the soft, surprised expression on her face—it all made my heart race, urging me to close the gap and kiss her. And for a split second, just a split second, I can see her eyes gravitate to my lips.

But my rational mind kicked in, and I reluctantly pulled back, putting a careful distance between us. "Do you need anything?" I asked, my voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach.

"I left my phone..." she trailed off, her voice barely a whisper, seem surprised with our unexpected exchange.

I nodded, acknowledging her answer. As she turned to go, a sudden impulse made me call out to her. "Tash..." She paused, glancing back at me with a questioning look.

"Take care..."