Prey Drive

Chapter 5: The Tea

Hello, Chapter update on time! No, I DIDN'T SET MY COMPUTERS CLOCK BACK?? why would you ask! Thank you all for reading, If you are following this story please let me know. Comments, likes, and critiques are so very much appreciated! Tell me what you think of these two characters' dynamics.

Thank you!!

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"I made us some tea." He gestures over to a wooden side table, two black mugs sit there. Along with a teapot on a coaster, and a pile of fabric. "I brought you some clothes too. They're mine so they might be a little big." Understatement of the year. "But I thought you might feel more comfortable in more than just a blanket."

He hands me the clothes.

"Thank you... uh"  My eyes widen. I haven't asked this guy his name yet! I am just bee-bopping around his cabin and I haven't had the decency to ask what he is called.

"What's wrong?" He takes a step closer to my chair, eyes scanning the room.

"I just realized I never asked your name." I play with a piece of my hair, it was just a name. Why did this feel so intimate?

I can feel his stare on the side of my face, when I look up he is grinning at me. "Clayton, but you can call me clay."

"Thanks... Clay." My face feels like it is on fire. Get it together! Just. A. Name!

"Anytime, Quinn. The bathroom is the first door on the right" He gestures to a hallway past the kitchen.

I shuffle in the direction he points.

Huh.  I stop. I didn't remember telling him my name? Then again I can barely remember the days of the week.

I shrug it off and open the bathroom door.

.........

The grey undershirt Clayton gives me is the same one he is wearing. It smells good. Not like I smelled it in the bathroom or anything, okay I did, but only to make sure it was clean. That's not weird- It's not!

The shirt clings to his body. His broad shoulders stretch the material between them, his biceps didn't give the fabric a break either. Seriously what was this guy?

As for me, the shirt drapes like another blanket. It hits me mid-thigh, my petite frame and distinct curves give the outfit a box-like appearance. The black sport shorts he gives me fall below the knee and are snug on my hips. I am thankful for the length of the top. No one wants an eyeful of all this, trust me.

When I walk out of the bathroom he has pushed the couch closer to the fire and was sitting on one end.  The mugs of tea are on a tray resting on the middle cushion. I perch myself on the other end.

"I uh, didn't know what type you wanted so I made my favorite."  He pours some tea into the cups. I wait for him to take a sip before I begin to drink mine.

He brings it his lips and I watch as he breathes in the scent eyes fluttering shut. "My parents brought some back one year from the negotiations. I have asked for it ever since don't know why I like it so much." He lets out a chuckle before he takes a sip.

I look at the golden liquid, it seems familiar. I bring the cup to my mouth and follow suit. Wait a minute...

This is my tea! I make it!

"I, I made this! I make this tea blend!"

He looks at me shocked.

"Really? All these years, you..." his voiced trails off, "You make this."