“He brings out the pout, and it’s game over, Boo.” Saylor chuckles.
“Fine,” I relent, sitting on the van floor with my feet on the ground, Lio following suit as I pull the Tupperware out of the basket, placing it into my lap. I open the container and have to suppress a groan as the smell of the still-warm pasta comes into my nose.
Tomatoes, basil,parmesan cheese.
My stomach growls, and Lio laughs. “Your tummyishungry.”
My cheeks turn red, and I glance up at Hunter, who smiles softly. “Go ahead, try. I think we did even better than last time.”
I push a forkful in my mouth and close my eyes, savoring the taste. He’s right. Itiseven better than last time. And having something warm in my belly is a comfort I didn’t know I needed. But the taste brings memories back to mind, how we ate together, how it was like being home, doing the dishes, watching television, playing with Lio, Hunter kissing me…
That goddamn first kiss.
Tears start to well up in my eyes, and Hunter notices, shifting his weight around, fidgeting as he probably feels my mood falling through the ground. I can see that he’s barely holding back from reaching out to comfort me. He would sit next to me and pull me into his lap if he could. It’s written all over his face.
“It’s really good,” I compliment Lio, my voice watery, and I force myself to smile. “You should think about becoming a chef when you grow up.”
I try hard to distract myself, but Hunter’s longing connects to my heart, pulling on it.
“No, I’m going to be a fisherman,” Lio declares.
“Worst idea ever.” Saylor laughs sarcastically.
“But if you want, I promise to cook for you every day,” Lio declares, standing a little taller.
The Jones boys and their promises.
“That’s so nice of you, buddy, but it’s not necessary. It’s already getting late. You should go home and make sure your daddy and Nash have something to eat too.”
“Funny that you care about that,” Saylor chimes in from behind me again.
Could you fucking not?
With a heavy sigh, Hunter nods, clearly hurt by my reaction. He turns to Lio. “She’s right. I bet Nash is hungry, and it would be good for Daddy to get something in his tummy that’s not brown liquid for once.”
North’s drinking?
I mean, I know he is, but am I the reason now?
Why do I even care?
“Okay, see you tomorrow, Sloany,” Lio tells me as he hops off the van ledge, heading over to reach for Hunter’s hand with ease. No trace of the once-worrisome cough.
“Bye, Lio,” I whisper, sticking my fork into the tray of pasta before I stand.
“Bye, Shortcake,” Hunter whispers before turning and walking away.
His expression makes my stomach turn, and the hungry feeling I just had is gone when I step back into the van, close the sliding door, and put the tray onto my little kitchen counter.
“He’s right. You need to eat some more,” Saylor observes as I sit on the bed. He comes to sit on the edge, too, and the shimmers running down my back tell me he’s stroking it in slow, rhythmic circles.
“I can’t,” I breathe out, feeling how my nose burns and my eyes fill with tears.
“Hey, Boo.” Saylor tries to soothe me, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “It’s going to be fine. Everything will be all right.”
“Stop saying that all the time,” I accuse, my hackles rising, my tone sharp. “Just because you always say it doesn’t make it true.”
I shouldn’t take my frustration out on him. He is the last person who did anything to deserve it.
