"I get that things get busy," Mia panted after we broke apart. "Just don't forget to look after yourself and don't forget about me."
"It's very difficult to forget you, love."
Mia turned a faint shade of pink and I left her momentarily to retrieve the cake. Steering her back towards the bed, we both settled on it.
"Why'd you pick this?" I asked, slicing through the thin end of the cake.
"It's your favorite," she responded simply.
I stop the bite midway to my mouth and look at her. "What makes you think that?"
"It’s at the table least three times a week," Mia explained. "And that only increases if you're in a mood."
"There’s also at least two other desserts every single night," I commented. Lydia had always caved to our sweet tooth when we were children and even though we were adults she continued to indulge us.
"True," Mia said with a shrug. "But you always pick the fudge cake. I was sure you were going to stab D in the hand with a fork the other week when he went for the last slice."
It amazed me how Mia noticed the little details and cared enough not to dismiss them. Apart from Lydia and Dante, I wasn't sure who else paid attention to finer points.
We both leaned back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of us, and I finally took a bite. "Do you want some?"
"I'm good, thanks," Mia said with a wave of her hand. "I had a piece at dinner and Stefan took a slice of some pineapple upside-down cake. The moment you put fruit in a cake you ruin it."
Swallowing the dessert, I found I couldn't do the same for the jealousy that had begun to rise in me. Stefan had had her undivided attention over dinner. I would not miss another meal.
"I didn't realize you and Stefan knew each other," I said, stabbing the fork into the slice with more vigor. The exchange over breakfast hadn’t gone unnoticed and was not appreciated. It bothered me that someone, my own brother, may know Mia better than I did.
"We don't," Mia told me. "Not really. We were in the same year, but we didn't really speak."
Another bite of cake to disguise how glad I was to hear that Saint Stefan hadn't found a way to get to her. I put the plate to one side.
"He's lovely, though," she smiled. "You guys are a little different."
Those words made my heart stop. It was an observation that everyone made because it was so strikingly obvious, and I’d lived in my little brother's shadow for most of my life. I wanted to reach out and grab Mia before she could drift away from me and join Stefan's ever growing fan club.
"I mean, you're lovely too," Mia tried to recover.
I let out a harsh laugh. "Not sure many people would describe me as lovely, princess."
"You are," Mia told me. "But it's just that you're..."
"A little rougher around the edges?" I used a phrase that our Mom always did when we were growing up. I was rough around the edges, whereas Stefan was the more polished and refined son. Stefan chose a respectable profession and I took after my father.
Mia's hand in my own pulled me from my thoughts. "A diamond in the rough," she told me.
A simple sentence from Mia stopped the anxiety that wound in my chest and I squeezed her hand gently. "If you say so, sweetheart."
"Luc."
"Yes?"
She looked down at our hands, her thumb moved nervously against my skin. "Stefan mentioned that you were dealing with some family issues and I just wanted to let you know that I'm here if you ever want to talk."
I chose very carefully who I let close to me and what they saw of my life. Mia hadn’t been given a tour of the entire train wreck because I wanted to selfishly enjoy my time with her before introduction to the chaos. I refused to have Stefan try and force my hand whether he knew he was doing so or not.
"It's nothing, Mia."
"Are you sure?" she asked. "Something's been playing on your mind since..."
