Avenue Of Sins

part seven

Alma stirred in bed discovering that she was alone despite the fact that Bill had fallen asleep with her that night. She scanned her room briefly in her sleepy fog only to see he was nowhere to be found. The only difference she discovered was that her bedroom door was slightly ajar and the smell of rosemary and garlic wafted into her room. It felt familiar yet she couldn't remember exactly when the last time she smelt those homey aromas but it clued her in that Bill was in the kitchen cooking. She looked above her door, to the standard round clock mounted above thinking that it must have been dinner time but it was only just an hour afternoon. Propping herself up on her elbows, her head felt as if it weighed a ton. Even with the considerate amount of hours she slept, it wasn't enough to stave off the terrible cocaine crash she was experiencing. Her mouth felt dry, feeling as rough as a cats tongue and her hair stuck to the back of her sweaty neck. She collapsed against the mattress wishing for a few more hours of needed sleep but she begrudgingly rolled out of bed with a growling stomach for a quick shower.

With wet hair and a long tartan button up and panties she met Bill in the kitchen where he was plating fettuccine noodles topped off with chunks of chicken breast that had been cooked in a creamy sun-dried tomato sauce. He gave her a winking glance with a cigarette perched between his lips. Even in just his trousers and white tank top, she found him looking as handsome as he'd ever been.

"Cooking?" She smiled leaning against the archway between the kitchen and the small dining room.

"Yup it's been awhile," he said nudging his head for her to follow as he took both of their plates to the dining table.

"It has... and what about the club?"

"We can be a little later than usual. I already gave Cooch and Theo a heads up." Convincing Bill to give them keys to open the venue was a pain in the ass but it was nice to not have to be there early or rather in this case late and having to face their disgruntled employees as they waited outside for them. "Anyway, eat." He said handing her a fork as she took a seat. "I made your favorite."

She looked at him skeptically before wrapping her hand around the fork he held before her. "Everything is okay, right? You didn't... did you?"

"What?" Bill shook his head. "No, not that. I just thought we'd have a meal that isn't take-out or pizza for once."

Alma nodded, stabbing her fork into her chicken. Honestly, regardless of how good it looked and how tasty she knew it was, she wasn't very hungry but for his efforts, she dug in. Bill watched her twirl and twirl and twirl her fork full of noodles only to take small bites out of the mound she had accumulated on the tines. She had put a considerate dent into her meal but she couldn't help but feel just a little ungrateful when she saw Bill's plate nearly clean. Noticing, he was quick to suggest to save it for her as leftovers.

"Thanks," she smiled appreciatively. "I'm gonna get dressed," she pushed her chair across the linoleum floor but before heading off she stuck her thumb out to wipe away a speckle of sauce from his mustache. It was a courteous gesture but it was so loving. He wanted to kiss her, to wrap her in his arms yet he held back. They were both on the right foot again so he was cautious about derailing it by being too needy. After all, they had only made up the night before. Besides after last night, there was so much there that hadn't been addressed and quite frankly he didn't have the balls to.
...