A kind smile spread to Sofia’s face once again. “Palermo, Sicily. We moved here sixteen years ago when Dean was ten.”
I calculated the years in my head as she described what their life was like back then. He was 26, four years older than me.
Sofia told me they lived by the sea, bought fresh flowers and bread from the markets, and made themselves sick on gelatos every Friday afternoon. She mentioned her career as a professional dancer at a local theater and how when she had Dean, she retired but continued to dance anyway. Mostly in the kitchen with a baby on her hip.
“I do miss home. The smell of the sea,” Sofia said nostalgically.
I folded my arms on the table as I leaned into them. Losing myself in her stories, I smiled easily. “I imagine it was a bit of a culture shock coming here?”
“Sì.” Her smile wavered. “My husband was the only one who could speak English.”
It wasn’t until she mentioned this that I wondered where Dean’s father was. He hadn’t been in any of the photographs in the hall, and there weren’t any signs of a third person living in their home. It also wasn’t any of my business though, so I didn’t pry. Plus, Dean arriving at the table with a plate loaded with seasoned, scrambled eggs had quickly changed the subject.
He leaned across the small table to place the plate in front of me, then dropped into the seat opposite me. Brushing a hand through his damp hair again as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans, he arched his hips slightly to retrieve his phone while his shirt rode up a little.
I caught a glimpse of his tanned skin and the dips of muscle formed a V above the waistband of his jeans. Never in my life had I averted my gaze from something so quickly. The scrambled eggs in front of me were suddenly the most intriguing thing I had ever laid eyes on. In a way, it was true. They looked and smelled mouth-watering.
My stomach rumbled as I scooped up a small mouthful and popped it in my mouth. I could taste parmesan and parsley with a mix of other herbs. The added salt didn’t overpower any of it either, blending perfectly into the fluffiness and warmth of the egg and milk. I reigned in a groan as I hungrily took another bite. Then another. The last time I ate felt like forever ago, and I had nothing in my stomach after last night. This was heavenly.
“See? I knew she was hungry,” Sofia said, pulling me from my food-induced daze.
I looked up with a mouthful to find them watching. Dean had his right elbow on the table, his chin in his right hand, and his phone in the other where his thumb hovered above the screen. He paused mid-scroll as he looked side-on at me.
I swallowed my mouthful as my face warmed under his gaze.
“I think I will finish that book I’m reading,” Sofia said, backing her wheelchair away from the table with a little smile. “Enjoy your breakfast, Lily.”
She made her way behind my seat, through the kitchen, and out into the living room, humming as she went and leaving Dean and me alone. Bringing my attention back to the plate, I tried to keep my reaction to the food a little less enthusiastic as I took another bite.
“I did take you back to your place last night,” Dean said, resting back in his seat as he traced a finger over the pattern in the tablecloth. “But I couldn’t find the swipe key to get inside.”
The thought of Dean attempting to carry me inside, only to bump into Susan on the way up, crossed my mind if he had found my key. The sight of me unconscious in a stranger’s arms would’ve sent Susan into a gossiping frenzy.
“Oh, that’s okay. It’s probably hidden in the bottom of my bag or something.” I pulled my bag up, chewing as I set it on my knee and rummaged through it. Only to come up short for any swipe key. Which meant I had left it at home before my shift last night.
I took out my phone as the lock screen lit up with a new text message. It was 11:05 AM, and I had multiple missed calls and texts. Most were from Mom, wondering why I hadn’t shown up to work this morning. My eyes widened when I read her most recent text. She wanted to drop by the apartment in 20 minutes to check on me but had sent that message five minutes ago.
The appetite I had developed for breakfast dropped away in a heartbeat.
“No-no-no-no-no.” I shoved my phone back into my bag and stood quickly, smashing my thighs against the lip of the table and causing the cutlery to clink. I palmed at the sore area on my legs while looping my bag over my shoulder and grimacing at Dean. “I have to go. Thank you for breakfast.”
A furrow creased his brow as he looked at my legs, and then my face. I didn’t have time to explain and hastily stepped away from the table, preparing to sprint home if I had to. Except I had no clue where in Brooklyn I was.
Dean’s chair groaned against the tiled floor, and I paused in the kitchen to look back.
“I’ll drive,” he said as he approached, reaching across in front of me to collect his keys from the kitchen counter.
I wrung my hands around the strap of my bag. “Are you sure?”
He shrugged and walked into the lounge room. “Got nothin’ better to do.”
I followed him as he crossed to the front door, waving a quick goodbye to Sofia, who sat reading while Dean held the door open for me. On the way through said door and across the porch, I decided to shoot Kira a text, typing as quickly as I could.
Me: Hey. I'm fine. Meet me at ours ASAP. Locked my swipe key inside and Mom is on her way.
I tapped send and, at the same time, misjudged the width of the porch as I stepped into air. My foot went down to the second step, knocking me off balance as I stumbled. I clutched at my phone, let out a yelp, and prepared to land flat on my ass right when Dean caught my upper arm. His grip was firm but gentle as he simply pulled me up.
“You good?” He asked as we stopped on the stairs for a second, his hand wrapped around my arm like he thought I might suddenly fall again.
