Something in my chest tightens at the fact that I straight-out lied to her face about my surname. But I smile as the wine arrives, a deep red that Franco knows I prefer, and then we order. She goes for the pesto linguine, I order the carbonara, and then we’re alone again in our little corner of the world.
“Tell me about Queenie,” Marley says, taking a sip of her wine.
I can’t help but smile. “What do you wanna know?”
“Everything. You light up when you talk about her.”
Do I?I’ve never noticed, but hearing Marley say it makes something warm ignite in my chest.
“She raised me,” I start, the words coming easier than they usually do. “My parents… they died when I was a teen. But Queenie, she’s the one who actually raised me. Worked three jobs to put me through school and paid for my music lessons.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about your parents…” She pauses with a sigh. “But I really want to see you play the flute. It’s hard to imagine, but I am sure it’s beautiful to hear.”
“Queenie loves it when I play. I actually got a scholarship to Juilliard.”
Her mouth drops open. “Juilliard? That’s… Nitro, that’s incredible. Did you go?”
I shake my head. “Queenie got sick. Breast cancer. She beat it, but the medical bills were brutal, and I couldn’t leave her. Couldn’t be across the country while she was fighting for her life.”
Marley reaches across the table, her small hand covering mine. Her touch is electric.
“You gave up Juilliard for her,” she says softly.
“It wasn’t giving up anything. That woman gave meeverything. Staying close to her, helping with those bills… it was theleastI could do.”
Her thumb traces circles over my knuckles, and I have to fight the urge to turn my hand over and lace our fingers together.
“That’s beautiful,” she whispers. “You’re beautiful.”
The words hit me harder than they should.
Beautiful?
Nobody’s ever called me fucking beautiful.
Intimidating, sure.
Dangerous, absolutely.
But beautiful?
“Your turn,” I say, needing to shift focus before I do something stupid like haul her across the table and kiss her senseless. “Tell me about your family.”
She pulls her hand back, and I immediately miss the warmth. “Well, there’s my parents… they live in Oregon now, they’re both retired. And then there’s my brothers, Callum and Beck.”
“The ones Sage mentioned?”
“Yeah.” Her smile is fond. “Cal is the oldest. He’s thirty-five, married to this amazing woman named Tessa. They have two kids, Lola, who’s seven and has me wrapped around her tiny finger, and Finn, who’s three and is basically a tornado in toddler form.”
I grin. “You’re the fun aunt.”
“Absolutely. I spoil them rotten, and Cal pretends to be mad about it.”
“And Beck?”
Her entire face transforms when she talks about him. “Beck is twenty-six, gay, and one of the most talented photographers I’ve ever seen. He’s funny, sarcastic, gives zero fucks about what anyone thinks, and he’s just gotten out of a three-year relationship. He’s going through it right now. We kinda became single at the same time, so hating on our exes over FaceTime has been fun.”
“Sounds like you’re close.”
