Chapter 9: Full Bodied

“Guys, I’m hungry. What’s for lunch?” he said 

“Yea, I’m hungry too,” Zayn chimed in, “I heard someone brought over fried chicken,” his gaze was on me.

Ashton put both his hands on my shoulders behind me, “Sarah’s food is magic!”

“Oh, c’mon Ashton…” I groaned, embarrassed. He’d had some of my cooking before.

I didn’t think I was any special than an average home cook.

Eric nodded his head in agreement, “She’s good. Wait till you guys try it,”

Pelin made a face, “fried food is very unhealthy.”

“Not when it’s this good, Pelin sweetheart,” Zayn tilted his head at her mockingly.

Emre looked at me, his eyes strange. There was a challenge in them.

“She does make good food,” he put in.

I couldn’t say anything.

I could just look at Emre’s face. 

His expression was determined, as if he intended to burn down the ship until no one survived except him and me. 

What was he thinking? My heart was beating so fast, I thought it would burst out of my chest. 

Ashton, who still had his hands on my shoulders, must feel it too, I thought inanely.

Zerrin filled the silence, “How would you know?”

Emre didn’t say anything, just looked at my face. 

This made it worse. 

This was a nightmare, even Mert was staring.

After a tense beat of silence, Emre said, “What? I just meant Ashton knows his food.” 

I took a breath realizing now that I’d been holding it the entire time. 

Ashton pressed his hands onto my shoulders and laughed, but it felt strangely forced. He pushed me forward and steered me towards where we’d stored the boxes saying, “Let’s go deal with lunch.”

It felt like we’d escaped a minefield. 

“Well, well, well, my brother has a dramatic streak,” Ashton muttered, picking up a few containers of food and stacking them on top of each other.

“What do you mean?” I asked Ashton. He was acting very strange.

“Nothing… let’s hurry up.”

I picked up the leftover stuff and slowly followed him to the galley. The others had gathered behind us on the couches. Everyone wanted Mert to sing after lunch; apparently, he was a singer at a bar. I was surprised, I’d figured him for an office job, and he looked so serious and shy. Appearances were deceiving.

I opened my fried chicken and set it out on plates, then set about dressing my salad with the vinaigrette. We opened all the containers one by one, setting them out. Ashton and Zayn had brought all the other food, which consisted of mini sausage burgers, salsa with chips, and chicken noodle salad. Melisa had brought along fresh fruit—unsurprising as she seemed to live on fruit. 

No wonder the girl had skin like peaches and cream.

Zayn and Ashton left to get the drinks out of the fridge.

I felt someone behind me as I tossed the salad, but I knew who it was.

It would take amnesia to forget the presence of this man in my life. 

My hands stopped working on the salad. 

Before I could turn around, his hands come on top of my shoulders.

They traveled the length of my arms, causing me to give an involuntary shudder.

I looked around in panic but let my breath out in relief when I realized no one was around.

“Shh…let me help you out,” he said His hand came up on top of mine, and I hastily pulled mine back. 

“Sure,” I said and ducked out from under him.

“Gently,” he murmured as he made a show of tossing the salad.

Zerrin came up to us with a bottle of what looked like wine in her hand, and I looked away from his hands, which were making me feel insane with arousal.

She stood very close to him, almost leaning into him, and asked, “Did you make it, Emre? You know I love salad?”

I coughed. I love salad? Was that supposed to be a line?

“Actually, it’s Sarah’s.”

 “Oh, I didn’t know she’d brought anything healthy,” she made a face, “did you use olive oil in the vinaigrette or just normal oil?” She slid a pointed look my way.

“Olive oil,” I said sweetly, “but I should have used corn,” I muttered under my breath as I stacked the plates.

Emre had a small smile on his face.

“Here,” Zerrin presented the wine to Emre with a flourish, “This is for you, for inviting all of us.”

He smiled at her, “Thank you,”

“It’s a chardonnay. Let’s open it up.”

Was she into Emre? It seemed possible. Of course the two catty girls with the rhyming names, Pelin and Zerrin, would both be after the boys tangled up in my life. Oh hell.

This trip was turning into a soap opera pretty fast. 

Emre took out two wine glasses and expertly popped the cork. He gracefully poured the white wine for himself and Zerrin. 

Wow, he didn’t even ask if I wanted any. I didn’t like white wine as a general rule, but he could’ve asked.

He swirled and tasted it, all the while looking across at me, “Beautiful, full bodied,” he murmured.

I looked away from his knowing eyes, as if he had tasted me. I could still taste him on my tongue too.

“What do you think?” he looked at Zerrin.

“It’s a very refined choice. I doubt if it will work with fried chicken,” she sent a glance my way.

“Let’s let the person who made it decide, hmm?” Emre replied and extended his glass my way.

 I couldn’t turn away from such a blatant challenge and took the glass while Zerrin looked my way.

I drank from his glass, tasting the wine and rubbing my lips together and reserving judgment for a few seconds.

“Some things just go together, and some just don’t work out,” I said, even though I wanted to wipe that smirk off of Zerrin’s face.

My battle was with Emre; Zerrin didn’t matter to me. 

“Well then, we’ll just have to choose whatever we want more,” Emre said, and he took back the glass from my hands and kept it back on the counter. 

“I wouldn’t give up fried chicken for any kind of wine anyway.” He said as he sauntered away.

My head was reeling.