Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“What happened?”
“I ran.”
“And you haven’t tried since?”
I shake my head. “I have, but every time I do, I still hear them…well, until tonight.” Now I’m for sure blushing. My cheeks are on fire. “You said you were hungry,” I say, changing the topic.
“I was.” His answer surprises me. I know he said it, but I didn’t expect him to be okay with me asking him again.
“Me too.” I look down at the table, finger absentmindedly touching the tines of the fork.
The silence between us becomes thick. The moment stretches as I wait for the tension to break.
“I’m sorry.” Gideon’s voice sounds like gravel.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Gideon cocks his head in a mocking gesture. “Only a month ago, you had a different opinion on the matter.”
“I realized Roman was a big boy. He made his own bed.”
“True.”
“How did you survive?”
“Winter was cold in New York, especially when you’re homeless, so I made my way to Florida. Miami, to be exact. That’s when I met my friend Tobias. We were both teens. The only difference was his family was in the business. Tobias got me a job. The rest is history.”
It’s obvious that this is the part where Gideon doesn’t want to tell me more, and to be honest, I’m surprised he told me as much as he did.
I don’t need him to tell me more because the man I know and the man who worked for Tobias and then took over are two separate people to me.
Luckily for me, the server chooses that moment to come over and places two menus in front of us.
After we both order, Gideon leans forward and rests his elbows on the table.
“Tell me one good memory.”
“From my childhood?” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, nervous energy starting to kick up in my stomach at the thought of talking about this with him.
“No. Tell me about a good memory with your brother.”
His question throws me off balance. I’ve spent so long hating my brother, I can barely remember a time when it was just the two of us when I didn’t.
My mouth opens and shuts.
“It can be anything, firefly. It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate. Just a good memory.” He says it so casually, but he doesn’t know what it was like.
But he does.
His family let him down too.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the memories to filter through my brain. When it hits me, I smile.
“You found one?” he asks, and I open my eyes to find him staring at me, his own smile lining his face.
“I did.”
“Tell me.”
I slant my head and stare off into space. “After my parents died, I often wondered how things would have been different. Not having a mom around was hard. You don’t realize at first how much a mom does, but then one winter, I did realize what I was missing. It was so cold. The snow had turned to ice, and we were too poor. I had no gloves, and we couldn’t afford anything.”
“What happened?”
“Roman found old gloves for me. They weren’t the right size, and there were rips everywhere. But he took out mom’s old sewing stuff. He had no idea how to sew, let alone how to thread the needle.” I can’t help but laugh. “But he sewed up every hole. They were the ugliest gloves you’d ever see. But they kept me warm.”
“I’m happy you had him. Even if you only had him for a short time.”
My eyes fill with tears. “I’m happy I had him too. I just wish I had longer.”
“I know. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
I shake my head, wiping the tears that fell from my eyes. “Thank you for reminding me. I almost forgot what he was like. What he was really like.”
Gideon reaches his hand out and squeezes my hand. “Well, then, I’m happy.”
We fall into silence, but it’s brief as the waitress returns with our food.
The meal that follows is nothing short of magnificent, and the rest of my evening passes in a blur, filled with light conversations that seem to last forever.
Being with Gideon reminds me of what I imagine holding stardust would be like. Beautiful and surreal, and you know it can’t possibly be real.
His eyes never stray from mine the whole time; they’re intense. This moment feels different. Like tonight changed everything.
And maybe it did.
After last night, I don’t know where we stand. I’ve kept my distance, but now I find myself hungry and with nervous energy coursing through me.
I make my way to the kitchen, and when I step inside, I’m immediately enveloped in warmth. The air is thick with the scent of spices and freshly baked bread.
This kitchen is a chef’s dream, I’m sure. In my apartment, I barely have a kitchen. A sink, a stove—so small it’s barely usable—and an oven just hardly allow it to pass as such. I don’t even have a dishwasher, but since it’s just me, it’s not the biggest deal.