Laurent and the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 1)
Page 61
“I’m Martina,” a woman with flaming red hair and a thick layer of kohl around the eyes shook Laurent’s hand before he could decide if it was an appropriate thing to do. “Did you like the breakfast? I wasn’t sure if you’re not vegan or something.”
Nao, whom Laurent thankfully already met before walked up to them with a smile. “Look at you! Those baggy pants were hiding all that?”
Laurent dared to smile, relieved that at least someone here was shorter than him, even if she was a woman. “Thank you. Beast helped me choose.”
Martina’s eyebrows shot up. “Beast helped you with shopping?”
“I know, right?” Nao asked, casually putting her arm around Martina’s waist and picking up a glass of thick juice from the counter. “Ain’t he sweet? King never wants to go,” she scowled, and Martina rolled her eyes.
“King never wants to do anything that isn’t about him being the center of attention. Last time he took me shopping, we split after half an hour, and he spent all that time buying stuff for himself. I ended up waiting for him, and he was late to the movies. Aren’t men always complaining that they have to wait for their women? They’re just the same as us.”
Nao moaned and patted her friend’s back. “You should have called me. I wanted to see that film anyway. You know how hot I am for Tom Hardy in pretty much anything.”
Only now did it hit Laurent that Nao was King’s ‘girlfriend’, which he’d already worked out meant a kind of common law wife. “Is… I don’t mean to be rude, I just wanted to inquire. Is it acceptable for a man to go out with another woman when he already has a girlfriend?”
Martina’s face blanked, but then she burst out with laughter and nudged Nao with her elbow. “Oh, my God! You were right! He is precious.”
Laurent groaned, focusing on the tabletop instead. When would he start getting things right?
Nao waved her hand dismissively. “We’re both King’s girlfriends, sweetie.”
Laurent frowned but decided to leave the question about bigamy to himself.
Nao snickered, leaning back as if Laurent was an artwork to wonder at. “Look at his eyes. He’s so confused. Sweet baby, it’s all fine. We both agreed to this, so it’s not cheating.”
Beast’s laughter carried across the room and drilled itself into Laurent’s ears. It would have been rude to look away from his partners in conversation, but he so very much wanted to know what caused such an outburst of glee in a man so permanently scowling.
“We were waiting for you two with the chili,” Martina said and pointed Laurent to a silver metallic box with numbers and symbols on one side. “Put it on for three minutes.”
Laurent swallowed, hesitant over what she meant, yet not wanting to seem hopelessly dumb. He nodded and walked up to the box with his heart beating faster by the minute. He would never learn about this future world. There would always be something to surprise him, and make him the outsider.
With his heart in his throat, he pushed the button with the number ‘3’ on it, but when nothing happened, he pressed another, with a red triangle, then one with waves, the ‘3’ again, which only ended up with the number ‘33’ showing up in signs on the display.
He didn’t know if he heard Beast’s voice first or sensed his presence behind his back, but all of a sudden the mountainous man was there, standing behind Laurent and speaking from above his head as the fresh, citrusy scent of cologne flooded Laurent's senses.
“It’s called a microwave. It uses invisible energy to heat food,” Beast said and reached past Laurent, touching one of the buttons. The numbers zeroed, but all Laurent could think of was the thick arm worthy of a harbour labourer faintly brushing against his shoulder and the heat of Beast’s chest that he could sense even without touch.
Laurent put his hands against the counter on which the ‘microwave’ stood and swallowed around the uneasiness that formed in his throat from Beast’s proximity. “I would have understood it in the end,” he whispered, but he was sure he would have never come up with the concept of invisible energy heating food. How could the source of it be invisible? Where did it come from? Why would it be used for three minutes, not five or two?
“Are you really mansplaining a microwave to him?” Martina asked from behind the counter. She was mixing up some sort of drink made of crushed tomatoes and water.
Beast stiffened, and his face twisted. “It’s not mansplaining if he’s a man. Besides, he knows nothing about anything, so he needs to be warned not to put cutlery inside and shit!”
Laurent rubbed his forehead in frustration. He knew things. He knew Latin and French, and read quickly, and knew how books were printed, and had a keen interest in philosophy, history, and novels. But how was he supposed to convey that in a world with technology on par with magic?