Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“You cooked for me,” I said, seeing her stiffen at that. “I didn’t know, mouse,” I said. “Not until Elian just chewed my ass out about it.” She said nothing to that, just curled tighter into her ball, as though if she tried hard enough, she could fold into herself and disappear. “No one’s ever cooked for me before,” I said. “Looked good.”
I was getting nowhere.
And I was no good at this shit.
Sighing, I moved to stand, going toward the side of her body, then reaching out, sliding my hands under her, then starting to lift her.
“No,” she objected, jerking hard.
“Shh,” I murmured, pulling her tighter, knowing she liked being held, that it was the only tool I had in my arsenal here. That she liked being touched by me. Enough that, even though she was pissed and hurt, as soon as she was against my chest, she stopped struggling, and settled against me.
I kept her close as I moved down the catwalk, then the stairs, and across the apartment to place her down at her chair at the set table.
The second I released her and turned to go toward the island to get some food, though, I saw her stiffly stand.
“Lore,” I called, watching her stiffen at her name. “Work with me here,” I said. “I’m trying,” I added, watching as she turned to study my face for a second before sliding back onto the chair.
I moved around the kitchen, transferring some chicken piccata over noodles onto a plate, and reheating it in the microwave as I went to get us each a drink, having to look up the ingredients to that fruity drink Dav made Lore to make her one and bring it back.
I could feel her gaze on me the whole time, watching each move I made, and I found myself wanting to know what was on her mind as I brought back her drink, then the food, splitting it between our plates, and finally lighting the candles.
“Sure it’s not as good as what you made, but it’s…something,” I said.
I wanted to tell her that I was trying to, I don’t know, make shit better. That I was sorry for not seeing that she needed more from me.
But, well, I wasn’t good at that shit.
My life had never allowed for sitting around and talking about feelings. I wasn’t even sure if I even knew how I felt about any given situation. It never occurred to me to think about how I felt about shit.
In my world, feelings didn’t fucking matter.
What mattered were results and respect.
That was it.
“It smells good,” she said, clearly trying as well, even if her eyes still looked far away and sad.
We both reached for our forks and knives in silence, the only sound being the scratch across the plates as we cut, and the far away shriek of a police siren.
Christ.
What the fuck was I supposed to do here? Say?
Lore sure as fuck wasn’t going to start the conversation.
“I heard Avery came to visit,” I said, watching her head whip up, eyes wide. Like she was worried, maybe? “You can have anyone you want over, mouse,” I said, shaking my head. “Her brother was here tonight and mentioned it.”
“I, uh, I had coffee with her and Cinna.”
Cinna.
That was interesting.
“Didn’t think Cinna would be someone you’d like much,” I said. The women couldn’t be more opposite.
“I like that she speaks her mind,” she said.
Maybe that made sense.
In this new world, having someone who would talk straight with her was probably an asset she decided she needed.
“That she does,” I agreed, nodding. “Everything alright with your family?”
“It sounds like it,” she said, a sad smile tugging at her lips.
She missed them.
Of course she did.
The Costas were a tight crew and an even tighter family. Lore was probably used to seeing dozens of the members most days of the week. And she was now weeks into not seeing any of them.
“She’s not going to tell them about this,” Lore said, making my gaze flick up to see her motioning to her face.
“You don’t have to keep secrets from your family.” I couldn’t imagine how torn between both worlds she felt. The family she was raised in, had blood with, and the family she chose for her future.
“I think it might be better to tell them after the bruise is gone,” Lore said. “Nico is…” she trailed off shaking her head as she reached for her drink.
“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking of her eldest brother. Who, from what I could gather from my intel, was a solid, sturdy, mature kind of guy. Not the type to get worked up over things. But this was his baby sister. If he saw a bruise on her cheek that he saw as evidence to back up his feelings about my family’s unworthiness to take care of her, I had no doubt that he would lose his fucking shit.