She snorted. “You’d be surprised.” Twirling slightly under the high ceilings, she continued. “But this... this is perfect because?—”
I cut her off before she could finish, smirking. “Because sometimes you don’t want to eat what I’m eating. Or sometimes you want a whole-ass charcuterie board and a steak, and I’m just trying to eat a plate of cacio e pepe in peace.”
Her mouth twitched. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did, Luna girl.” I didn’t even have to think about it.
Her expression shifted for a second. That smile faltered, softened, like I’d said something too kind on accident. Like she didn’t expect me to still hold pieces of her in my memory that precisely.
How the hell could I forget? Back when we were us, this was the shit that mattered. The little things. The way she hated spicy food, but always ordered it anyway. The way she refused to eat cold sandwiches without a warm drink.
People talk about love like it’s grand gestures, but it’s not. It’s remembering how someone likes their steak. It’s knowing they’ll need three sugars in their espresso before they even sit down. It’s standing in the middle of a grocery store-slash-restaurant and watching her light up because she gets to choose exactly what she wants and no one’s telling her no.
“So what’ll it be, Luna girl?”
She laughed, a low, giddy sound, and slipped off her coat. Underneath, she wore a tight black long-sleeve top that clung to her body in all the ways that made it nearly impossible not to stare. Her tits were practically begging for attention, but I tore my gaze back to her face just in time to catch that mischievous glint in her eye.
“Come on,” she said, looping her arm through mine. “Let’s go explore.”
She dragged me past display cases filled with fresh mozzarella, ogling the hand-rolled pasta, sniffing candles that were wildly overpriced, and squealing over tiny jars of imported honey. She was darting from one section to the next like a kid on Christmas morning who couldn’t decide which present to open first. Her hair bounced, her eyes sparkled, and I swear to God, I forgot we were supposed to be playing it cool.
I... stared at her. Laughed quietly to myself at the way she wrinkled her nose when she passed the butcher counter, how she hovered indecisively between the risotto station and the pizza oven.
“I can’t pick,” she finally whined, spinning toward me with her hands dramatically outstretched. “Everything looks too good.”
“You always did have commitment issues.” I teased her, grabbing her by the wrist and gently steering her toward a quieter corner. “C’mon. Let’s sit before you faint from indecision.”
She rolled her eyes but followed, and we snagged a small two-top tucked near the back, surrounded by shelves of olive oil and wine.
“You good?”
“Yeah. That was... fun. I forgot what it felt like to just be.” She glanced around the restaurant. “You okay?”
My brows pulled together. “What?”
She nodded subtly toward the display. “Being around all this booze?”
I followed her gaze, then leaned back in my chair. “Yeah. I’m not drinking, obviously. But I’m fine.”
She let out a little breath and nodded. “I won’t drink either.” Then she looked down at the table, suddenly quiet. “I was an asshole to Austin.”
“Shit. I forgot you saw him over the holidays. How is he?”
She looked up. “Good. Sober.”
“That’s . . . that’s good.”
There was a beat.
“So what’d you do?”
“I brought in a bottle of wine,” she admitted, eyes darting away from mine. “Nova and Dirks thought it was a dick move.”
I blinked, then rubbed my jaw. “Kinda is, Lune.”
She groaned, burying her face in her hands for a second. “Fuck, I know. I-I wanted to see if he was legit sober. Because Nova has a baby now. Scarlette. I needed to be sure before... ”
“Fuck.” I leaned back, watching her wrestle with the guilt. “But Luna... ”
